to the side of a soldier lying on a nearby bed. The man’s eyes were bandaged and he flailed his arms about, groping for something as he mumbled a scarcely comprehensible demand that his wife light the lanterns.
Vaelin got to his feet as Sherin calmed the soldier, easing him back into the bed and murmuring soft reassurances until he settled. Surveying the temple, Vaelin saw every bed now held an occupant, whilst the less grievously wounded lay on blankets on the bare floor, as he had. The nuns and monks moved amongst them ceaselessly, each face showing signs of fatigue that told of a long and arduous night. He saw Chien holding a man’s leg still as one of the healers stitched a deep cut in his thigh.
“How many?” Vaelin asked Sherin.
She smoothed a hand over the blinded soldier’s brow and moved away, going to a neat stack of rolled bandages. “The general has ordered that a count of the casualties no longer be kept,” she said, a well-controlled bitterness pervading her tone. “It’s bad for morale, apparently.”
She took a basket and began filling it with bandages. “Time to make my rounds,” she said. “I had to tell the others to wait outside. Your niece was being a particular nuisance, I must say.”
“As is her way.” He reached out to take the basket. “Rounds can wait. I need something from you.”
Juhkar lay on a bunk in one of the monk’s chambers, skin beaded with sweat and eyes dim as he stared up at Vaelin. The bandage on his thigh was clean and spotted with a few drops of blood, but the covering on his shoulder was dark and Vaelin’s nostrils twitched at the familiar scent of corrupted flesh.
“So you got another,” the tracker said, pale lips forming a smile. “Seems you don’t need me after all.”
Vaelin chose not to tell him that the Gifted they had claimed the night before had been a child, maddened and cruel to be sure, but still a child. “Nonsense,” he said, pressing a reassuring hand to Juhkar’s arm. “We need you more than ever.”
He moved to Sherin’s side, lowering his voice. “His shoulder?”
“Gangrene,” she confirmed. “I had an effective curative for it but used most of it healing the Stahlhast boy, the rest during the last few days. I’ve tried a few alternatives, but none work quite as well.”
Sherin angled her head as understanding dawned. “You want me to heal him.” She let out a short laugh and shook her head. “You assign that outlaw woman to render me unconscious if I try to use my gift—don’t lie, she told me that’s why she’s really here—now this. Why?”
“Because I doubt this city will have a chance without him,” Vaelin responded in simple honesty, knowing it would be the only tactic likely to win her over.
She sighed and nodded. “Very well, wait outside. It won’t take long . . .”
“There’s something else,” Vaelin cut in as she started towards the bed. “He’s Gifted.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“Something always comes back. Weaver told me that once. Every time he healed someone, they gave something of themselves in return. By the time we parted he was possibly the most powerful and dangerous being alive. If you heal this man, it’s likely you won’t possess just one gift.”
She paused, crossing her arms as she looked hard at Juhkar’s feverish form. “Why tell me this?” she asked, voice faint.
“It has to be a choice you make freely,” he told her. “Knowing full well the consequences.”
“Having already told me the consequences if I don’t. Always the way with you, nothing but hard choices.” She uncrossed her arms, moving to sit on the bed and taking Juhkar’s hand. “Wait outside,” she repeated.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
“You’re alive.” Eresa’s small face was blank with astonishment as her eyes tracked him from head to toe.
“So it seems,” Vaelin said.
“Told you,” Ellese said, coming forward to embrace her uncle. “A few sparks could never put him down.”
Vaelin saw mostly relief in her expression as she stepped back, but also a new shadow behind her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Guilt, he supposed, had been a rare sensation for her until now.
“The boy?” he asked.
“Swift-footed little bugger, the arrow just grazed him.” She shrugged, forcing a grin that didn’t last long. “It was enough.”
“Brother.” Nortah came to Ellese’s side, Vaelin seeing a depth of shame in his face greater even than in the aftermath of his most drunken excesses. “I . . .”