away from Ryon’s still form. If he dies, would that make me a murderer?
“. . . got enough honey,” Waelyn was saying. “Sylendrin, you reckon the lotus are in bloom yet?”
Sylendrin tapped a stripped bone on his plate as if in thought. “Maybe.”
“Get me as many buds as you can find.” Waelyn tossed a cut of Ryon’s armor aside. “But to treat an infection this bad, I’d also . . .” He trailed off and silently stared down at Ryon’s wound as if he could see it. His fingers reached out and gingerly brushed its surface.
“What?” Kira’s voice sounded like a bullfrog’s croak. “What do you need?”
Waelyn looked up at her with empty orange eyes. He was still for so long that Kira squirmed. “D’hakka oil.”
The few bites of pita roiled in her stomach. “What’s that?”
“A ghastly oil secreted by d’hakka where their legs meet their back,” Sylendrin said with obvious disdain. “It lubricates their chitin armor plates.”
Kira recalled the way the moonlight gleamed on the d’hakka they’d fought and shuddered. “You don’t . . . have any already?”
“No.” Waelyn stared blankly at the wall. “The sleep venom from a d’hakka’s tail spike is healing, as you might have noticed, so we do have some of that. But their oil is highly flammable. Dangerous to keep around.”
Kira swallowed. “Where’s the nearest settlement that might have some?” She wondered how valuable such a substance was. “Jadenvive?”
“He’d be dead by the time we got back. Or beyond hope at the very least,” Waelyn murmured. He put a wrinkled hand on Kira’s knee, making her jump. “I’m sorry, chickadee, but his only chance would be you gettin’ some directly from the source.”
Oh no. No. Nope. Kira took another step back. She pointed at Sylendrin. “You go. I’ll get the lotus.”
“D’hakka won’t let me anywhere near them, beautiful.” Sylendrin leaned back in his chair and lifted the bone. “That oil is why d’hakka are terrified of fire—they’d go up like a torch if a cinder landed on their backs.” The bone in his hand abruptly burst into flame, then snuffed out to a black char. “Which is why they avoid silverbloods like me at all costs.”
The room fell into silence aside from Ryon’s labored breathing. Kira stared at the puddle of his spilled tea as everything within her protested. The only place she ever wanted to see a d’hakka again was her nightmares. Well, not even there.
How am I supposed to kill a d’hakka? Well, her big game trap had worked against a trace cat, but . . . No. Even if it could work, no. Just no.
Ryon’s scratchy breaths pulled her gaze to his face. Sweat beaded across his forehead, which was paler than his former olive complexion. Even in sleep, his brow knitted as if in pain or concentration. The swelling of his shoulder burned in the corner of her vision, but she refused to look at it again.
If he hadn’t given me Granny’s herbs for my stupid ankle, would his wound have gotten infected? Kira’s gaze drifted along Ryon’s jawline, then tore away to the floor at her feet. He wouldn’t have been the most handsome guy in any town, but he pulled off his mischievous charm flawlessly regardless. When he wasn’t being a presumptuous peacock.
Why didn’t he say anything?
“It’s all right, chickadee. No sense in sendin’ you out to die as well.” Waelyn yanked Ryon’s cloak out from under him and bundled it around his arm. “We’ll help him pass as comfort—”
“How much do you need?” The words escaped Kira’s lips without her permission.
Waelyn paused. “The oil’s potent. The sacs from one adult would do it.” His voice lowered. “But Zamara would sentence me to Zoth if I got you killed over this.”
“I won’t die.” Kira tried to ignore the dread pooling in her gut. “I’m a trapper. All I need is rope and bait.” And a serrated blade would be nice. She glanced down at Ryon’s knife sheath, then unbuckled his belt and slipped it around her own waist before she could think better of it.
“I’ll go with you.” Sylendrin stood up from the table and dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
Kira struggled with Ryon’s thick belt buckle. “I thought you just said you couldn’t go because they’d sense you.”
“That’s true, but I can help you set up the trap.” Sylendrin’s alluring smile caught her off guard. “Bet you could use some muscle.”
“No,” Waelyn said.
Sylendrin frowned. “Aren’t you concerned for her safety?”
“That’s exactly why you won’t be going,” Waelyn