Page 37 of When the Wicked Sing
“Lay her down over there,” Spiro instructed, motioning toward a low cot near the fireplace.
Dax carefully set Mari down, brushing a hand against her cheek as her head lolled to the side. Her skin was still feverish, her breaths were shallow, and she murmured faintly, the words too soft to make out.
Kenna lingered in the doorway, crossing her arms. “She doesn’t look good,” she said softly.
Spiro glanced up. “Kenna, fill the tub with warm water,” they said, gesturing toward the large wooden tub in the corner.
“Got it.”
“Let’s get her armor off,” Spiro instructed, kneeling beside the cot to help unbuckle the chest armor. As the last piece came away, a few of the scales Mari was shedding fell onto the fur blankets. Spiro picked one up, their shrewd gaze inspecting the colorless fragment before glancing at Dax.
“Siren?”
Dax gave a short nod, crossing his arms.
Spiro’s jaw tightened slightly, but they said nothing. Instead, they lowered themselves to the floor, placing their hands over Mari’s chest and closing their eyes. Their gray hands, covered in silver rings, stood out starkly against Mari’s inflamed skin.
Dax watched her chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths. The sight coiled something tight and uncomfortable in his chest. He hated it—the helplessness, the ache.
“What’s happening to her?” he asked, his voice darker than he intended.
Spiro’s white brows furrowed, their lips tightening as though they were concentrating deeply. “She’s shifting. Her body is battling the change.”
“The change?” Kenna asked, returning to stand beside Dax.
Spiro opened their eyes, their expression grim as they pressed a hand to Mari’s forehead. “She’s been turned into a fae.”
Dax’s hands clenched at his sides. “Can you heal her?”
Spiro sighed. “I don’t know. Her fever is gone now, but her body is weakened. It will take time to accept what’s already been done.”
The village leader’s touch was gentle as they brushed a few strands of hair away from Mari’s sweaty face. Then their head turned toward Dax. “Who did this to her?”
Dax swallowed beneath the intimidating stare. “I don’t know.”
“How’d you end up with her, anyway?” Kenna asked, one brow arched in curiosity.
Dax’s jaw tightened. He was unwilling to meet her gaze. “It’s complicated.”
“Everything with you is complicated,” she muttered, annoyance clear in her tone. “Does she have anything to do with why you’ve been gone for so long?”
Dax glared at her briefly but said nothing.
“Kenna,” Spiro said gently with a tired look on their face. “Leave him be and go get some food.”
With a deep sigh, Kenna left the clinic.
Alone, Dax met Spiro’s curious gaze and waited for the inevitable slew of questions. But none came. Instead, the leaderstood and dipped their fingers into the tub, feeling the temperature of the water.
“I can’t imagine what it felt like,” Spiro murmured as they stared into the steaming water. “The transition … it must have been excruciating.”
Dax glanced out the stained glass window, the dark sway of branches the only thing visible. But that was not what he saw. Instead, he saw a frightened, screaming siren kneeling on the edge of a river.
“It was awful,” he finally admitted softly. “She kept screaming until her voice gave out.”
A hand gently gripped his forearm as his eyes flickered back to Spiro’s. An unspoken understanding passed between them.
“C’mon, let’s get her in the tub. The warm water will help soothe her.”
