Page 12 of Oathborn
“Nurse,” Captain Javen said, with that same dispassionate voice. “Did you not apply silverbane?”
“Silverbane?” Zari asked. The flowering vine had small, heart-shaped leaves that smelled minty when crushed, but she knew no medicinal value for it.
“The attacker used a fae blade,” he drawled. “Which, if you had a scrap of brain, you’d already have realized from the wounds.”
“How can you be sure? The Accords state—”
“Do not quote the Accords to me.” He dropped his finished cigarette and ground it beneath his perfectly polished boot, leaving a dark streak on thewhite tile floor. “If a wound will not stitch closed, either you can’t manage a needle, or magic is involved. Which one is it, nurse?”
Zari’s face heated. No response came to mind. None, except acknowledging that magic might be at play. “Silverbane,” she said, slowly. Perhaps its power was a secret kept by a select few, like so much else about the fae. “We have some in the garden.”
Captain Javen nodded. “Go, then.”
“How much should I pick?”
“You’re the medical expert,” he replied.
“You’re the one who said we needed the plant.”
“Because, apparently,” Captain Javen said, “that knowledge has already been lost, despite saving many on the battlefields.”
“It was not written about in anything I’ve read.” Her face burned at the sarcasm in his words. She was a good nurse, a skilled one, and yet, Captain Javen made her feel like she was nothing more than playing at the career.
“Textbooks.” He shook his head. “Is that all you know of being a healer?”
“Of course not! I’ve worked here for almost ten years. I’ve taken the entrance exams for the Women’s College of Medicine and passed.”
“And yet you do not appear to be there?”
“The classes haven’t begun.” Zari had also struggled to save up enough for tuition, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell this arrogant man that small detail. “Let’s go get the silverbane. And I’ll have you know I am a good nurse.”
Javen followed her as she headed down the hall and outside. “For the soldiers’ sakes, I hope so.”
The hospital courtyard’s garden had been a favorite lunchtime spot of Zari for years, but she’d never given much thought to the silverbane growing among the strawberries. Now she wondered if some war-time medic had believed in the folklore and planted the small, flat-leafed plant for similar reasons? If so, their superstition would save lives tonight.
Zari knelt by the daffodils, reaching out for the first tendril of small green leaves.
Or perhaps,she wondered,the knowledge of the plant was restricted to men in power, and away from us women.There was so little women had been told about the war. So much kept from them, on the false basis they couldn’t handle the truth.
As if no woman had ever faced danger before in her life.
She shook her head and focused on the task. Soon, her bag was half full.
Captain Javen offered no help. Was picking a plant beneath him? Her father had disliked those sorts of officers who seemed to think their rank absolved them from menial tasks.Soldiers trust those who go through hardship alongside them,he’d told her. Even as a general, her father had stayed out in the freezing cold with his troops, and in return, earned their deepest respect. It was also why he’d died, alongside all of those soldiers, the night Blood Ember attacked.
“Sir,” Zari said, looking at Javen, who stood smoking another cigarette. “This would go faster with a second set of hands.”
He didn’t acknowledge her comment.
She sighed. “If silverbane is so helpful, then why did no one tell me?”
“If?” he asked, raising his brow. “You doubt me? Do you think nothing was learned from over a century of conflict?”
“Why weren’t more people told about it?”
“Because it was assumed the fae would never attack again.” Javen jerked his head toward the open door, as if she were just another soldier under his command. “Enough. The wounded are waiting.”
Her footsteps sounded heavy as she walked inside, her fears swirling within her. Had the Accords only brought a temporary ceasefire, not peace? If so, they might as well melt her father’s memorial for bullets.
