Page 15 of Practical Boots

Davos ruined it all, of course. He surged forward, trying to break out of Cat's grip. He nearly broke his own shoulder instead, and screamed quite convincingly. Cat ended up with her knee planted in the middle of his back, and his wrist twisted much higher than it should go. "How much of the antidote does he need? And remember, if you lie to me…" She left the threat dangling, in hopes that his imagination would be scarier than hers.

Really, though, 'left to die in, and of, the Waste, with bonus iron poisoning' was scary enough. Davos snarled, but answered, and Cat said, "You're going to have to make a cup of your hands," to Rick, who looked queasy again.

"I can't drink a cup of his blood, Cat."

"Unless you're carrying a syringe, you're going to have to."

"Even if I could, that's not how antivenoms work!"

"Rick," Cat said, as steadily as she could, "you've been poisoned by a venom from an aelfhaim on the far side of a shapeless Waste, where you are currently stuck with someone who was born of both worlds and can not only traverse, but forge that Waste, and you're worried about how antivenoms work in the World?"

His gaze lit, desperation replaced by hope. "Can't you shape a syringe? Honestly, I don't think I can drink his blood."

"If your other option is dying, I bet you'll find you can. And no. I can't shape a syringe." Actually, she could, but she had no idea what else it might draw from Davos, besides his blood. Artifacts were not often only the simple things they appeared to be on their surface.

More to the point, perhaps, it would mean letting go of Davos, and she didn't imagine that would end well. "Unless you can hold him down like this."

Rick said, "What?" faintly.

"If you can hold Davos down, I can shape a syringe. I need both hands to do it."

There was a reason, she decided, that Rick liked the kind of courier gig that involved taking lots of cash money to fly around the world and clean up expensive messes, rather than taking breakneck rides across the city through unforgiving traffic. He was, at heart, a gentle soul. Gentler than Cat had imagined, even. Kallie would have stuffed Davos full of knives and drunk from him like a fountain, but Rick was honestly just a good-hearted, kind...himbo. Stabbing people, it appeared, was not something himbos did.

He did rise, though, and come to stand shakily at Cat's side. "Knee here," she said, pushing hers into Davos's spine, much to his displeasure. "Hand here. Keep the pressure on it and he shouldn't move. If he does," she said, switching places with the human man, "stick him with this." She handed over the cold iron knife, and Rick looked like he might throw up. Cat squatted beside Davos, waggling her fingers to draw his attention. "You and I both know you can probably throw him off. Let me strongly recommend not pursuing that course of action."

Davos growled, but nodded. Cat moved back a few steps and began to draw the stuff of the Waste together, considering what Artifact might come of her efforts.

It could not, by its nature, be a simple syringe. Its purpose was to draw the antidote from Davos's veins; to draw, in essence, the magic from his blood.

An Artifact that could steal magic from the Torn-born was the kind of weapon she never wanted her father to think of.

It required limits. The vial itself could provide those limits, and if not diluted by theblood, the antidote itself would in all likelihood require a lesser quantity than what Davos had specified.

If not, she could always use it again. And again, and again, until Rick was out of danger, and Davos was drained dry, if necessary.

Every once in a while, Leandra Woodrow feared she might be her father's daughter after all.

The syringe came into being between her hands as she stretched and worked the stuff of the Waste. Glassy, but not; metallic, but not. Sharp, either way, and slenderly hollow in the way of the things of the World. Element by element, it became what she required, until a thing that had never existed before in all of time now did, because it was her will that it should exist, and nothing more. If it had anything in common with fairy tales, it was a thing like the sleeping spindle, but the commonalities were slim. Syringe in hand, she knelt and pushed the needle into the meaty part of Davos's shoulder. No one would draw blood that way, but it wasn't really blood she was looking for.

And the stuff that coalesced inside the syringe was not, and could never be mistaken for, blood. It spun around itself with a milky translucence with one turn of the light, and a foggy etherealness with the next. Davos whimpered, a sound more of fear than pain, and Cat, watching the power flex in the vial, couldn't blame him. She would be terrified if someone drew that substance from her own body.

When it had filled, she took it from Davos's arm and pushed Rick's sleeve up, prepared to plunge it into his. He flinched back, making Davos yelp, and said, "Aren't you gonna, I don't know,sterilizethat first?"

"It's magic, Rick. It can't infect you." She popped it in his arm before he could object again, then, as he went alternately white and red, said, "I wonder if that should have gone into your vein, actually. Oh well. Guess we'll find out."

Rick stared at her in visible dismay, but she only leaned down to Davos and murmured, "I'm gonna take another vial full as back up, in case he needs further treatment. And in the meantime, you'd better remember I'm literally carrying a fistful of your essence. Imagine what I could do withthat." She jerked her chin up, indicating Rick could move now. "After all, you're going to be very well behaved now, aren't you, Dav."

"You cold-blooded witch," Davos said as Rick let him up.

"Oh no." Cat felt the coldness of her brief smile. "I'm not a witch, Davos. I'm much, much more powerful than that. Too bad you didn't realize that before now. How you feeling, Rick?"

"Woozy?"

"We'll assume that's normal." Cat frowned thoughtfully between the two men, and finally muttered, "Dammit. The fastest thing to do would be bring you with me to the Torn."

Hope shot through Davos's expression, and pure horrified terror shot through Rick's. "No fuckingway," he declared. "If I get to go and Kallie doesn’t, she'll straight-up murder me."

"You know, for a guy who just got himself captured, you're suddenly evidencing a remarkable amount of self-preservation," Cat said. "Trust me. I'm not taking you anywhere that Kallie wants to see.” Cat sighed and turned to Davos. “I wish you’d just asked for help. It would have made this all a lot easier. Do you have something of Savos's?"

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