Page 107 of The Sea Witch
“There’s only one way to bring an end to it.”
“Using the fail-safe.”
They were silent together, worry and doubt and apprehension shuddering between them.
There was a kind of comfort in their shared anxiety.
A knock sounded on the door, and when Alys bid them entrance, Stasia came in briskly.
“Fatima tells me no one will cross the River Styx,” she said, crisp. “Nothing to be amputated, no one lost eyes. A few days, and everyone will be healed. We will recover.” She glanced at the crimson stained bandage around Alys’s thigh. “Everything is shipshape topside.”
“I want you above,” Alys commanded, “where you’re needed.”
Moments after Stasia left, there was another knock on the door.
“Captain?” came a voice on the other side. “It’s Fatima.”
Ben strode across the cabin and pulled the door open. “Doctor.”
Shouldering past him, Fatima carried her bag under her arm. She went to stand beside Alys’s chair. “I’ll need you on your berth.”
Alys cursed. “Don’t think I can stand. Not now.”
Cautiously, Ben approached, offering his arm. “Might I?”
“Tell no one of this.” Alys aimed this at both Ben and Fatima.
“The silence between the patient and the doctor will be preserved,” Fatima answered.
“Gossiping with the crew is not one of my diversions,” Ben added.
He helped Alys to her feet and remained solid as she leaned heavily against him, and they slowly made their way to her berth. She swore the entire journey.
Slowly, she lowered herself onto the mattress. Fatima bent over her leg and unwrapped the drenched bandage. Alys clenched her teeth as Fatima examined her wound.
“I must clean it,” the doctor announced, “and then sew it shut.”
“As you please,” Alys said.
“We can summon someone to cast a numbing spell,” Fatima suggested.
“After all the magic we’ve used today?” Alys shook her head. “Everyone’s exhausted. More rum will do.”
The filled cup was in her hand instantly, courtesy of Ben. Once she drained it, he filled it again, and she downed all the rum within it. As she attempted to drink herself insensible, Fatima put on a pair of spectacles and prepared her instruments.
To distract herself from the agony coursing through her, Alys studied the medical tools. They were beautifully engravedmetal instruments of many shapes, delicate and precise works of art, forged by experts to perform complicated and important work. They were adorned with red enamel flowers and vines, the color of the lacquer likely chosen to hide any blood. Fatima had brought them with her when she had joined the crew, saying they had once belonged to her great grandfather but had passed to her when none of her male relatives expressed an interest in pursuing medicine. She had added to her collection over the course of the year, and had taken tools from some of the vessels they’d captured—always careful to let the ships’ doctors keep the most essential equipment so they could continue to perform their duties.
Fatima helped Alys strip off her boots and ruined breeches. Then, with her leg completely bared, the doctor bent over the wound, her curved needle and catgut ready.
Alys reached out her hand. At once, Ben took it. He held her firmly through the whole painful procedure.
Despite Fatima’s urging that what Alys needed was rest, she called a gathering together in her quarters. Luna had brought a chart of the area, and spread it on the table.
Alys sat, while Stasia, Polly, Luna, and Ben stood around the table, as everyone contemplated the map, showing them all the possible routes to Lethal Lambert’s enclave.
“TheJupiterand its creatures stand between us and our destination,” Stasia mused. “Now that they are riled, there is no way past them. They will patrol in widening circles and be ready to attack with their beasts.”
“You look like you’ve got an opinion,” Alys said to Ben.
