“Were you … a part of the war between the humans and fae?”

Revna’s expression grew dark and her hand clutched the armrest so forcefully her fingers blanched. “That’s a talk for another day, but all great empires fall at one point or another. Anyhow, let me show you a skilled move. Bring your leg up here. I’ll show you how to heal.”

Kolfinna stilled. Heal … her leg? Had she heard right? That shouldn’t have been possible. How could runes heal something when they were just a set of rules?

She gave Revna a strange look, trying to discern if she was serious, but when Revna only raised an eyebrow, Kolfinna’s body went slack. That couldn’t be right. Could she actually heal her?

“You can … heal my leg?” Even saying the words out loud felt like a hopeless dream. If her leg was healed, she wouldn’t have to endure the stares. Or the frustration of not getting to one place fast enough like she used to. Or especially the pain. Would she really no longer have to feel her muscles resist and strain with every forward movement?

Revna nodded.

Kolfinna’s lower lip trembled and she fought the urge to cry. She didn’t want to grasp onto such a notion. It shouldn’t have been possible. She didn’t want to bring her hopes up. “Are you telling the truth?” she asked. “How can runes do that?”

“Runes can do many things,” Revna said. “If it’s to benefit you, your mana will not repel it. You weren’t born with a crippled leg, were you? Because if that’s the case, I can’t ‘heal’ it because there’s nothing to heal. That’s your body’s natural state. But if it’s an injury that didn’t heal properly, I can heal it. So, were you born like that?”

“No.”

“I expected as much. Let me see your leg.”

Kolfinna repositioned herself on the couch and brought her leg up to rest on Revna’s lap. Her body bristled when Revna pulled the hem of her pants all the way up to her knee, exposing the jagged scars running up the length of her shin and ankle. Revna examined it for a minute and placed her cold and leathery hands on Kolfinna’s bare skin.

“Using rune magic to heal is extremely difficult to do and you need years of practice to do it properly. I’m not saying I’m a master, per se, but I can do it,” Revna said. “How did you damage your leg?”

“I shattered it.” Kolfinna fought the urge to glance at Blár. “It didn’t set correctly.”

“So I’ll have to force all the fragments to mend together the way they used to be,” Revna murmured, as if speaking to herself. She tightened her hold on Kolfinna’s leg and gave her a hard look. “Thiswillhurt.”

Revna’s eyelids lowered and heat spread from her fingers onto Kolfinna’s skin. Kolfinna lowered her head on the armrest and closed her eyes, anticipating the pain. All she felt was the thrum of mana bursting from Revna’s hands, warming her leg. It wasn’t bad at all. She had been hurt far more than just that. Injuring her leg had been an excruciating experience. Her ankle had snapped and her shin had shattered, making her leg useless. At the time, she had fallen to the ground, screaming and holding her thigh, too scared to look or touch anything beyond her knee. And then those cold eyes had fallen on her. That scene had replayed in her nightmares over and over again.

Kolfinna shifted in the seat, trying to get more comfortable, even though that task was nearly impossible whilst having her bare leg in a stranger’s lap. She instead focused on the crackly ceiling with peeling white paint. Uneven breaths stole from her chest as she waited in anticipation for the pain to come, but it didn’t.

“I don’t feel any—” she started.

And then it hit her, the feeling that her leg was being broken all over again. She gasped and gripped the armrest below her head to keep herself from spasming on the couch. Shards of glass seemed to shred through her calf muscles. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth together to keep from screaming.

“Just a bit more,” Revna said.

She held her position and focused on her breathing. In and out. In and out. Even when her muscles felt like they were tearing from her bone. In and out. In and out. Even as her bones tugged out of place. In and out.

She couldn’t take it anymore.

But just as she thought that, the pain stopped altogether. In the absence of it, even breathing felt like a chore. She tried unclenching her jaw. Her body trembled and she pushed herself into a sitting position. A thin sheen of sweat dampened her skin.

“Try to walk now. It should feel much better.” Revna leaned into the couch, her face pale and sweat beading her forehead. “I’m sure you were in constant pain just walking and standing.”

Kolfinna quickly pulled down the hem of her pants until her leg was covered, then rose to her feet slowly, unsurely. She didn’t feel any different, but when she took her first step, there was no shooting pain. No awkwardness that forced her to walk on the side of her foot.

Kolfinna took a few steps and then jumped. And then jumped again. It was like she had never been injured in the first place.

Shock stunned her to silence and she walked around the room. She turned to Blár to show him, but he remained in his mountain of blankets, his whole body hidden within it. A frown twisted her lips. He had been the one to do it to her, so why was she so excited to show him how her leg was now?

“Thank you.” Tears formed in her eyes and her face crumpled. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I can imagine.” Revna’s eyes saddened. “Kolfinna, someone did that to you, didn’t they?”

Kolfinna pressed her palms into her eyes. How could she tell her that Blár had been the one to cripple her? To cause her so much pain for months on end? He didn’t even realize how much he had hurt her when he shattered her leg. How immobile he had made her.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kolfinna said with a strained smile. She stretched her leg forward and wriggled her toes before taking another step. She could walk without pain; it was the strangest feeling, but it felt so natural at the same time.