Page 155 of Bitten & Burned
My father turned back to me. “So? Are they?”
I met his gaze. “Yes.”
He nodded once, then sipped his brandy. Completely unruffled.
“Well,” he said, “I suppose that answers my next question—who is taking care of you while you convalesce?”
Behind me, someone coughed. The bond fluttered ragged, a ripple of nervous energy from all of them at once. Fig meowed and struggled in my arms, so I set him down. He ran to go bat at the fringe on the bottom of a chair.
I resisted the urge to bury my face in my hands. “Can we… focus on the actual reason you came?”
“Yes, the wound. You say it’s gotten worse? And you’ve seen healers, to no avail?”
The mark burned hot under my skirts, answering the accusation for me.
“Indeed,” I continued. “My old cursework professor has even been attempting to help me. He charmed an amulet to help mitigate the pain.”
Dad’s face tightened slightly. “Your old cursework professor? Drummond?”
“The same, yes.”
“Alright… may I?” He gestured to me, clearly indicating that he wished to see the amulet.
“Of course.” I slipped it off my neck and into his open palm.
He peered at it before lifting it in his hands to test the weight. “What did he tell you about it?”
“It’s bloodstone. And silver. It absorbs some of the toxin the curse leeches into my bloodstream.”
He made a soft huff of indignation. “No, it doesn’t.”
“What?”
“It does nothing of the sort.”
“Bloodstone does indeed absorb certain curses when dispersed in the bloodstream.”
“Indeed, but what you are wearing right now isn’t bloodstone. You’d know that if--” He paused, swallowed, and continued. “If you had paid attention.”
“Not if I paid attention; if I’d taken over the business.”
“Yes, well, water under the bridge,” he said. “You didn’t, and now we’re here.”
“If it’s not bloodstone, then what is it?” I asked.
“I’d have to take a closer look to tell. Your mother would have known by sight, but…” He trailed off before continuing again. “But, from what I know about the color and the weight… It’s dyed selenite. Common to the western edge of Verdune, near the quartz mines. They chemically alter lots of it there for decor and fashion purposes. They have it in abundance, and it’s cheaper than importing other stones.”
“If it’s a chemically altered selenite… then what is it doing?” I asked, voice low.
“That,” he said, pulling a fineglass from his breast pocket, “is what I aim to find out.”
He brought it up to his eye, lens clicking into place as he adjusted the angle to catch the light. I could feel the others shift behind me—Quil and Vael especially.
He didn’t speak for a long moment.
Then:
“There’s a sigil etched into the back of the setting.”
