Page 34 of Kiss of Death
“The blades transferred the curse once it came into contact with his blood,” Hawk said. “Maybe it works the same with the platinum.”
“We stab him?” I asked incredulously. “That can’t be right.”
“Then what’s your idea?” he snapped.
“Hey, I’ve been traveling for two weeks to get this, so let’s dim the attitude.”
“Perhaps he’s supposed to ingest it,” Mom said. “Melt it into liquid form.”
Too dangerous.
“Melt it into a liquid, let it cool until it’s almost a solid, and then apply it over the wound.” Viper approached our congregation and stopped at my side. “It should seal the wound closed from the outside to stop the bleeding, and hopefully, infuse whatever properties it possesses directly into his tissues.”
Hawk stared at Viper as he considered the idea then looked back at the block in his hand.
“I think that’s worth a try,” I said. “Makes the most sense.”
“It’ll burn and scar his skin,” Mom said.
“Dad won’t give a damn about that,” Hawk said. “I say we do it.” He looked to all of us for agreement.
I nodded, and so did Mom. Khazmuda too.
“Alright, let’s try it.”
We had the blacksmith remove a portion of the platinum slab and melt it down into a liquid inside an iron cup. It was sealed and covered before being given to me on Zehemoth’s back. I was able to get it to the castle in less than a minute and then handed it off to Hawk, who sprinted inside to bring it to the healer waiting at my father’s bedside.
I slid off Zehemoth and ran through the castle until I reached the royal chambers. When I walked inside, my mother had just removed the bandage that was already soiled with blood, and then the healer applied the hot platinum to the skin with an iron paddle.
My father didn’t move, but he gave a slight cringe, like the pain was strong enough to pierce the fog in his mind.
The healer continued to apply the melted platinum into the wound at his shoulder, blood pouring down his body until the wound was fully sealed with the viscous material. Once the skin was fully coated, he withdrew the paddle and dropped it onto the iron plate on the nightstand. The remaining platinum was set aside.
My father continued to cringe and breathe deeply for minutes, the metal burning his flesh and releasing a hint of stench into the air. But it eventually cooled to the temperature of his body, and he stopped reacting.
We all stood there, waiting and hoping he would open his eyes and be exactly as we remembered.
But an hour went by, and nothing changed.
Was I foolish to expect this to work?
Was that two-week journey for absolutely nothing?
“Nothing’s happening.” My brother was the first one to speak, to cave into the raw disappointment. He looked at the healer as if he would have an explanation.
“I don’t know if it will work,” he said. “But if it does work, it will take time. The platinum will need to dissolve the curse within hisflesh, and then his body will need time to heal that wound. We need to be patient.”
Do you feel any changes?I silently asked Khazmuda.
No. We’re continuing to fuel his body at the same rate.
The disappointment was so strong it almost made me collapse in tears.
He will still need our strength to heal, so don’t despair.
Two days passed, and there was no sign of a change with my father.
I didn’t sleep at first, too afraid he might wake up at any second. But then my body collapsed in exhaustion, and I slept for nearly an entire day. When I woke up, my father was still comatose…and Callum still wasn’t there.
