Page 51 of Witchlight
“We’ll have to stay off the road,” Safi said.
“Yes.” Aeduan blinked slowly. “The horses ran off, but I will find them and bring them back.”
“No.” Iseult reached for him before he could stride away. She didn’t touch him, though. “We should stay t-together, Aeduan.”Do not lock up your feelings and walk away.
His lips parted. One heartbeat stuttered past. Two. Then his spine slackened ever so slightly. “As you wish. We will stay together.”
The last thing Iseult saw before she followed Aeduan and Safi into the grass was a bloodied head fallen atop the snow. Empty eyes stared into frozen nothing.Sever, sever, twist and sever.For all that she had avoided using her magic and avoided taking control…
People had still died here. The wickedness had come anyway.
It slowed them considerably to be off the road. Snow fell. Small, hard flakes that found their way into gaps in Iseult’s clothing. The high grass whipped against the horses. Night was fast approaching. It also slowed them that Safi was hurt. It wasn’t a life-threatening wound, but it was bad enough that it would need tending—and bad enough that nothing but curses had left Safi’s lips for almost an hour.
Until she abruptly groaned out: “What’s that?” Safi pointed with her left hand; Iseult squinted into the darkening sky. Something thrust up from the grass, almost like a tree except it was only the trunk.
Aeduan was the one to answer: “A shrine.” He had once more tucked himself inside his hood. His voice was muffled by snowfall and salamander fibers. “There are many of them across the Plains.”
Iseult nodded; she knew of these shrines, for Nomatsis often stoppedat them to pay their respects to Middle Sister Swallow. “Is it safe to make camp there?” she asked him. “Or will N-Nomatsis stop there too?”
What she didn’t add was that most Nomatsis had taken up the cause of the Raider King, so she couldn’t even trust her own people.
“I think we can stop for the night.” Aeduan’s hood swiveled, as if he sniffed with his Bloodwitchery. But there was no one for his magic to find, just as there were no Threads to brush against Iseult’s magic. And this time, Iseultreallyreached—even as it drained her. Even as she felt her other senses get muddy and numbed.
She couldn’t let them be ambushed again. She didn’t think they could survive another fight like that.
Soon, they were near enough to the shrine that grass and snow could no longer hide it: a stone pillar poking from the soil, twice Iseult’s height. Winds had kicked all the snow to one side of the clearing, carrying with it offerings: food, trinkets, coins, and the uncut stones of a Threadwitch. The Nomatsis feared Swallow’s fickle temper on the Plains; these gifts were meant to appease her.
Safi was the first to dismount—stiffly and with no attempts to hide her pain. Not that her Threads could hide it anyway. “Sit,” Iseult ordered, pointing to a smooth, smaller stone rising up from the snow. “Aeduan and I will make camp.”
Safi scoffed. A sound that was loud enough to reach across the winds. “You’ve got tits for brains if you think I’ll let you do this alone. I’m injured, not useless.”
Two seconds later, a snowball hit Safi’s head—and Safi’s laugh split the falling night.
In the end, Safi did help Iseult and Aeduan by using her heels to drive Nomatsi tent stakes into the earth. Then they guided the horses into the tent, arranging them at the back and using the remaining space to lay out a single pallet for Safi. This would not be the first night they’d shared their tent with the horses, but it would be the first night someone was injured.
Safi was worse off than she claimed—a fact which became obvious as soon as she tried to remove her cloak and her arm wouldn’t lift higher than a few inches. It made her face and Threads crumple with pain. So Iseult helped her peel off layers, each one more soaked with blood than the last. It filled the tent with a coppery scent that overwhelmed even the smell of the horses.
“Well, that doesn’t look great.” Safi grimaced at her arm in the light ofa Firewitched lantern. They hadn’t made a proper fire; the smoke would be too dangerous. For now, the warmth of so many bodies would have to be enough. “It didn’t hurt that much when it happened.”
“Could you not sense how bad this was getting?” Iseult aimed her question at Aeduan, her voice sharp. “Why didn’t your magic alert you?”
He didn’t answer right away. He was rubbing down the horses, and his ministrations to Cloud continued uninterrupted. Gentle, steady. Until at last he paused near Cloud’s hindquarters and said, “Yes, I sensed the blood, but it was not a life-threatening wound.”
“And it still isn’t,” Safi insisted. “I’ve had worse.” She grunted and shifted her weight. The lantern wobbled.
“Sit st-still,Safi.” Iseult studied the gash. It was an ugly shredding of skin and muscle that hadn’t sliced cleanly through. Bits of cloth and fur were stuck in the open flesh, and although Iseult had brought Evrane’s healing kit…
Well, maybe they should have simply brought Evrane.
“We’ve switched places.” Safi’s voice was light, joking—but her Threads gave her away. “Only a few months ago, you were the one with an injury, and I was the one taking care of you.”
Iseult was willing to play along. “You meanEvranetook care of me.”
“I helped her.”
“Sure. By pissing off a prince, attracting sea foxes, kidnapping a Firewitch healer—”
“Yes, yes, I did all of that too.” Safi laughed, but it rang false. And no matter how many times Iseult murmuredRelax,Safi couldn’t seem to soften her muscles or deepen her breaths.
