The cream smelled of tea-tree oil, sweet-sharp and faintly resinous. It also stung, and she glared at him while he smeared it on. The needle was a proper surgeon’s tool, curved and razor-tipped; light gleamed and splintered off the tip. She wondered how many patrons the innkeeper stitched up. Adam’s hands were steady as he threaded it.
Isyllt braced herself and swallowed. Her head ached, the edge of her vision too dark—more magic would only make it worse.
Her resolve lasted till the third stitch. Then the cold came, sweet and soothing. The throb in her temple became a spike, but instead of fire and wasp stings in her arm, she felt only the soft pop of skin, the slide and tug of the thread.
When he clipped the last knot, she tilted her arm to look. Ugly, thread black and stark against her skin and the red edges of the wound; at least the stitches were neat. Adam dabbed on more ointment, then bound her arm in bandages.
The pain had dulled to a queasy red blur by the time he was done. She stank of blood and sweat, and breathing ached where Li had landed on her ribs. All her luggage was at the Khas.
“Now this,” Adam said softly, reaching for her left hand. The concern in his voice was no comfort. “Have you numbed the pain?”
She shook her head and quickly regretted it.
“Good. I need to know where it hurts.”
Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as he tested each finger, put gentle pressure on her palm. She could move her thumb and her first and last fingers, but the middle two curled uselessly, and she whimpered when he touched them. The nearly healed cut from the exorcism had torn open again, a four-rayed star cupped in her palm. Her hand felt too light without the diamond.
“I think a bone is cracked,” he said at last. “And the tendon’s severed.”
She swallowed, lips pressed tight; for a moment she thought she would be sick. She’d seen enough dissections to understand the worst of it. The physicians at the Arcanost might repair such an injury, but it had to be done quickly. Nearly a month of water lay between her and Erisín. And she still had work to do.
“Pack it,” she said at last. “Pack it and splint it and wrap it tight.”
Adam nodded and reached for the ointment again.
The markers didn’t entirely lie. Traces of ghost-blight lingered in the woods: barren patches of earth and withered trees, patches of sickly grass. Xinai felt spirits flittering through the jungle around them—curious, cautious, but not malevolent. Whatever evil had happened here, it was long cold.
The worst scare came when they finally crossed a kueh trail before the bird had left it. Xinai looked up, and up, and found herself staring at a sharp, curving beak. A male, by the brilliant blue neck and crimson wattle. A dark bone crest curved from the top of its beak to the back of its skull. It rasped a loud kweh and flared its wings—black on the outsides, bronze shading to dark gold beneath.
Xinai’s breath caught as one golden eye fixed on her. Claws longer than her hand scratched the earth. Her hand tightened around a knife hilt, but could she draw faster than the bird could kick?
Before she had to answer, a freezing wind whipped over them. The kueh shrieked and flapped, hopped backward awkwardly before it turned and bolted into the brush.
Xinai’s blood tingled, stabbed pins and needles. She let out a shuddering gasp and pried her half-numb hand off her knife.
“Ancestors,” Riuh hissed. “Is that a ghost?”
Xinai grinned past him, where Shaiyung faded from sight. “Don’t worry, she’s with us. But you can walk ahead for a while.”
Lingering excitement sped them up for a while, though they finally forced themselves to a steadier pace. The diamond pulsed against Xinai’s chest, and she knew they were going the right way now. The sun had begun its westward slide when Riuh caught her arm and drew her to a halt.
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Look.” He pointed toward a broken vine, a thread snagged in tree bark. “There are men about. We’ll rush straight into them if we’re not careful.”
So they edged south till the diamond’s throb slowed, and crept in slow and soft. Once or twice they heard men passing nearby, but Xinai’s charms and Riuh’s stealth held up. Soon she heard voices and distant splashing. The trees thinned and