Page 71 of Ties of Frost

“And if I need you to lie down, we’ll have to move, so stop wasting time. Besides, I already put my tools on the bed.” Rouven stomped to the bed and turned around to glare at me.

A slight pressure on my lower back marked Kyrundar steering me toward the bed, and I let him. Sure enough, a scalpel, pair of shears, towel, bowl of water, needle and thread, and roll of bandages waited on the foot of the bed. Stiffly, I sat on the edge of the mattress, surprised at its plushness. For living alone in the middle of nowhere, Rouven certainly had made his life as comfortable as possible.

At the healer’s prompting, I removed my pauldron. With speedy precision, Rouven used the shears to cut off my bandage and cut away some more of my sleeve. His frown deepened as he looked at the wound. Without speaking, he cleaned the area and wiped it dry.

“Do you feel this?”

I looked down to see his fingertips prodding at the blackish edges of the small dark-red wound in my arm. “No,” I whispered.

Rouven sighed and dropped his hand to his side. “I wish we had a fleshmage here. That would help. As it is, if we can destroy the curse—and that isif—I’m going to need to cut out the parts of your flesh that have necrotized. Evenfleshmages can’t bring this back, but they can speed up the healing and help you regrow at least some of the flesh. But if you survive, you’re going to have at least a large scar. At worst, you may have a permanent indent in this arm. You may have some tightness there that will never fully go away.”

I gulped. It mattered little, although I prayed it wouldn’t affect my ability to swing a sword. “Understood.”

“Now I’m going to examine the magical part of this malady.”

“It may hurt,” Kyrundar warned.

Rouven released a frustrated grunt and waved a hand. “Of course it will hurt, boy. It’s tainted and malicious magic.”

As the physician cupped his hands around my arm, I braced myself. Rouven’s magic felt different from Kyrundar’s—colder and sharper, like needles of ice exploring under my skin. I gritted my teeth and clenched fistfuls of the soft bedspread. Perspiration beaded on Rouven’s face.

Finally, the pain stopped. He released my arm and stepped back with a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as if under a great weight. He wiped his forehead and turned to Kyrundar.

“You did well.” His tone sounded begrudging. “Exceptional work, demonstrating skill and power.” He rolled his neck and straightened. “Which is good, because you’re going to need all of that expertise and strength if we’re going to save her life. The ice curse has latched onto her, like thousands of tiny barbs—but barbs that have a sort of life to them, that want to grow and spread. As I’m sure youdiscovered, attempting to remove the curse requires far too much effort and will cause her too much pain. We’ll have to destroy it inside her.”

“How?” Kyrundar asked the question I couldn’t voice, sounding as shocked as I was.

“It basically involves compressing it until it implodes, but let me worry about that.” Rouven pointed at Kyrundar. “Your task is to keep the curse and my magic contained. You’ll have to strengthen and maintain your barrier and ensure that its size remains consistent and that none of my magic or the curse gets past you. If your barrier fails, I may lose control, and she’ll freeze before your eyes. Can you do that?”

I worked my throat, trying to find the words to reassure Kyrundar that he could do this, but the only thought in my mind wasshe’ll freeze before your eyeson repeat.

Had we survived three assassination attempts only for me to die now?

I didn’t want to die. Not now. Not yet. I’d fallen asleep in the belly of the ship reciting prayers, and I had dreamed—not regular dreams, but dreams I knew were from Iskyr. While they were hazy now, Kyrundar and the heartbond had featured heavily in them, and I knew Iskyr was telling me to trust his gifts and plan. I’d awoken determined that if the heartbond survived the removal of the curse, that would be my sign that the love I felt for Kyrundar was true. And while I’d waited on theTristanfor Kyrundar to return, fretting about whether the magical traps would hurt him or worse, I’d realized I regretted pushing him away.

I couldn’t die. Not before I’d kissed him again.

I almost grabbed him and kissed him right that moment, but he needed focus, not a distraction. Besides, I wasn’t entirely sure I could make my limbs move. I felt half frozen already.

Was that the curse, or my fear?

Kyrundar’s wide eyes locked with mine. Then a look of steely resolve overcame his countenance. He nodded once. “I won’t let you down. Iskyr, give me strength.”

Rouven nodded. “Iskyr strengthen and guide our magic and our skill and protect our patient.” He motioned toward the bed. “Zidra, please lie down. This is going to be painful. You may get lightheaded, so I’d prefer you didn’t fall. Actually…” He stomped back to the door and threw it open. “You—whatever your name was, with the muscles. It’s going to be crowded, but I need you in here.”

The ice elf returned, and Sajen ducked through the door, the tight space emphasizing his bulk. “What do you need me for, exactly?”

“Get on the bed on Zidra’s other side and be ready to hold her down if she starts thrashing.”

Blood drained from my face at the same time as Kyrundar went pale as snow.

“Is that likely to happen?” he asked, his voice strained.

“How should I know? I’ve never operated on her before, and no one has ever tried this.”

Sajen raised his brows and glanced between the physician and me as if questioning whether this was a good idea.

That made two of us.

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