Page 95 of House of Dusk
“Unless you’d prefer to walk around in charred rags?”
“No,” she said, the word rough.
“Turn round,” he told her. “I’ll check the burns.”
If she had longer arms she might have refused. Instead she did as he asked, trying not to flinch at his touch. He was gentle—probably gentler than she would be if their positions were reversed—but the bandages clung in places, and she couldn’t help hissing as he removed them. Then again, at the numbing relief of the salve, the soft sweep of his fingers across her skin. She caught herself against the maddening and utterly ridiculous urge to lean into his touch.
Instead she stared ahead, biting her lip, searching for something to distract her.
There were carvings in the stones that formed the walls of the shelter. A few rough outlines of animals and people, but mostly words, some foul, others nonsensical. Then one she recognized.
Nilos. The name had been carved carefully into one of the smoothest rocks, just beside the doorway. And under it, more roughly:is an ass-faced weasel.
“Is that you?” she asked, nodding to the graffito.
A beat. Was he trying to concoct a lie?
“Yes.”
She cocked her head, trying to see his face, but he shifted, bending closer to bind the fresh bandages across her burns. His breath brushed over the nape of her neck, making her skin prickle.
“Bold to tell the whole world how you really see yourself.”
“My brother added that part.” He sounded faintly irritated. Sephre hid her smile.
“So you have a brother? And...a home? Here?” She supposed even wandering serpent cultists came from somewhere. Still, it was a strange thought. Imagining Nilos as a boy.
More silence. There was a heaviness to it, a space that held pain or loss. “Cardis and I grew up in this village.” He drew on a smile. “Not quite the secret serpent-mystic temple you were expecting?”
No, it wasn’t. And it only seeded more questions. How had a boy from a village like this ended up on a quest to restore the Serpent? Then again, her own home wasn’t dissimilar.
“Is your brother still here?”
“No.” He moved more briskly now, securing the bandages. “How does it feel?”
Fine. What did it matter who Nilos was? Let him keep his secrets, so long as he took her to Stara Sidea and Timeus. She rolled her shoulders, cautiously at first, then with more confidence. There was still pain, but it was the dull tug of healing skin, not the raw agony of the previous day. “Better.” Better than it should. She turned, frowning at him. “What exactly is in that salve? Aside from yarrow and sunbane?”
“Ah.” He smiled, completely ignoring her question. “You’re an herbalist.”
“Which is how I know even yarrow and sunbane don’t heal burns overnight.”
“Then you still have something to learn.”
“Your brother had it right,” she told him sourly, but it only made him laugh.
CHAPTER 26
SEPHRE
Nilos was gone the next morning. She rolled up from her blanket, only biting her lip once at the ache of her healing skin. A quick survey of the shelter told her he must not be far. His pack was propped against the wall, and there was even a pot bubbling in the embers of the campfire, smelling of oats and honey. But the man himself was nowhere to be seen.
He’d left his sword beside her blanket. For her? In case the skotoi grew impatient of waiting and came hunting?
She stared at the weapon for a long moment. Bending, she brushed her fingers just above the leather-bound grip. It had been over nine years, but she still remembered the feel of a sword in her hand. The strength and surety of it.False strength,she reminded herself.False surety.Then drew her hand away. He’d probably just gone off into the scrubby woodland to piss.
She busied herself putting on the new clothing. It was unnerving, to look down and see no gray, only muted blue and warm brown. It made her feel displaced, unreal. The same feeling she remembered from those first weeks after the end of the war, missing the heaviness of her armor, the routine of her soldier’s life.
Sephre glanced at the brightening horizon. Either Nilos had a bladder the size of the moon, or he was off on some other business.Trust is too easily broken, indeed.
