Page 3 of Bound By Stardust
“Here, this will help.”
He eyed the cup skeptically. “What is it?”
“Just water, for now,” I said, grabbing the half-filled bucket of stardust. While he slept, I’d return for the rest.
With a shaking hand, he gulped down the water and dropped the cup over the side of the wheelbarrow. I scowled as I retrieved it.Rude.
“Let’s get you inside,” I muttered as I helped him to the table.
He lay back, chest rising and falling while I lit candles to examine my patient. Try as I might, I couldn’t find any wounds or scars. The skin on his chest, albeit dirty, was clear. Was it internal?
I brought him more water and this time, he propped himself up while he drank, his hands steadier. His golden gaze lingered on me, and even though I wasn’t one to be uncomfortable, I recalled that I hadn’t brushed my hair this morning or bothered to change after spilling a potion down my dress. I must look a sight, even though the one judging me had been buried alive.
To busy myself, I poured stardust into jars, which wasn’t as easy as it sounded. “What happened to you?” I asked Drazhan. “You don’t have any wounds, at least not that I can see.”
When he spoke, his voice was less rough. “I…I…it’s hard to remember. I recall being stabbed and then…it was dark, so dark, with so many bones. I got lost in a sea of nothingness and then you, or perhaps it was the stardust, woke me.”
I leveled my gaze at him; it wasn’t uncommon for people to forget something terrible that happened to them. Probably better that they did, but he was a Master. He should recall what happened to him. “I didn’t see any stab wounds.”
He pressed a hand to his chest, then peered down at his filthy body. “You must have healed me.”
I frowned. “I did nothing, aside from bringing you home and giving you water.” My arms were still burning from pushing him through the forest, and I felt quite grumpy about that.
“All the same, you have my thanks.”
I didn’t want his thanks, and I didn’t like the way my body glowed under his praise. To keep from looking at him, I put the stardust on the shelf and started making him a tincture. “You need to rest. I’ll make you a drink, and then I have to go collect the rest of the stardust.”
He lay back and folded his hands over his chest. Perfectly dirty hands, with long fingers. I shouldn’t be staring at his chest, or the way his muscles rippled, but his eyes were closed, and he didn’t notice. In all my days of mending wounds, I’d never seen such a perfectly toned body.
He spoke again, jerking me out of my thoughts.
“I’m quite dirty, and I’m lying on your table. I apologize for that.”
“Stop apologizing,” I snapped as I put the kettle over the fire.
He was silent while I finished the mixture and brought it over to him. Propping himself up again, he drank it down with a sigh. “You are very kind.”
“I’m not kind. I am just doing my job,” I told him honestly.
“All the same,” he said.
“Sleep. It’s healing, since I don’t know about your injuries. In the morning, see how you feel, and we can go from there.”
“Thank you, Asira.”
I watched as his face relaxed; I knew he’d have good dreams. As for me, I had a long night ahead of me. Leaving the stranger on my table, I picked up the wheelbarrow and headed back to the boneyard.
2
Drazhan
The scent of peppermint woke me, or perhaps it was eucalyptus. I opened my eyes to dried roots and herbs hanging from the rafters above me, and my night came rushing back. I was in the cottage of the woman, Asira, who had pulled me out of the boneyard, and I felt alive. Relief sang through my veins, underlaid with weariness, even though I’d slept an entire night. Most of it, anyway.
Disdainful brown eyes met mine as I turned my head. It was Asira herself, dressed in the same gown as last night, with the stain on the front of it. She was tall and willowy, with brown skin and a plait of messy, golden-brown hair, but her figure hid surprising strength. She had pushed me through the forest in a strange contraption last night, something she called a wheelbarrow.
I couldn’t look away from her, and I realized what a relief it was to look at someone who wasn’t wearing a mask. It was as though she were bare, and I could see her soul shining out of her eyes. They were sharp, shrewd, with a slight weariness behind them. Had she slept at all?
“My savior,” I murmured.
