Under a thousand Nords piled into the little village of Rex Cross and crammed into any niche they could find. Danton and his men were amidst the guards who escorted our prisoners to the stables and tied them up for later questioning, and Alex, Vera, Myez, and I gathered together our injured and followed Thad to the local apothecary, aptly named Mortar and Pestle. The owner was a frail, elderly gentleman, named Eifred, who looked quite shocked at the sight of us, all covered in filth and blood. But when he saw how many Nords were lined up at his doors, he eagerly deferred all medicinal decisions to Thad.
One would think the Eifred had handed Thad the keys to the kingdom. Thad bounced around everywhere, barking demands while sorting through Eifred's stock of herbs and poultices. Myez offered to help with sutures, and after about a five-minute stare-down from Vera, Thad finally agreed to let him help.
Men piled into the Mortar and Pestle, lying all over floors and tables, making it a challenge to even walk. Alex and I worked side by side, going quickly through the stores of analgesics, astringents, and antiseptics while Thad hurried to keep making them. Thad also kept a stick of incense smoking in one corner. It smelled like cedar and burning, and was much too strong for my taste, but he swore to the seven territories it would relax the men and keep the demons away.
For hours it went on like this, all of us with our heads down, working. There was so much I wanted to say and ask Alex, and I could tell there was so much he wanted to say and ask me, but the task at hand didn't permit that yet. These men needed to be taken care of now. Still, with every glance and every light touch, the promise of that conversation passed wordlessly between us.
It felt so good working with Alex on a task, just like we used to do…before. Before everything turned complicated and the consequences so deadly. But working together now, we fell naturally into old patterns, reading each other's movements and anticipating each other's needs. I'd hold an arm while he'd wrap it, he'd hand me a jar of salve just as I was about to reach for it myself. On these occasions, we'd smile at each other, but the moments were quick and then we'd get back to work.
The night matured and bright moonlight shone through the windows of the apothecary. The candles we'd lit had already burnt halfway, and many of our patients were either sleeping or trying to. I finished replacing a bandage around a Nord's calf when I noticed Alex discreetly standing in a corner, examining his arm. I maneuvered around the bodies and over to him, and when he saw me, he abruptly dropped his arm to his side and pushed his sleeve down.
"Let me see it." I reached for his arm.
He pulled it away. "I'm fine."
"Yeah, and you were also fine that day Jinx sent you to the hospital. Let me see it." I reached for his arm again.
A grin teased his mouth, and this time he let me grab his hand and push his sleeve up. A deep red gash ran perpendicular along his forearm, and there was another one just beneath his scrunched-up sleeve. They'd stopped bleeding, but they were deep and the skin around them was inflamed.
"Alex." I looked up at him with scorn. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"It wasn't an emergency."
"Do you remember how this happened?"
"Ah, I think it was the gargon…when he pinned me down." At my glower, he said, "I wanted to wait until we took care of things here. They need help more than I do."
"Well, now it's an emergency. It's infected. Are gargon talons poisonous?"
"I don't think so—otherwise I would've experienced side effects hours ago."
I narrowed my eyes on him. He beamed innocently.
I scowled. "Wait here."
"Why do I feel like you just put me in time-out?"
"Because I did," I said.
He chuckled softly and I left him to find Thad, whom I spotted with Vera in the opposite corner, working on a man with a huge gash on his thigh.
"—a bleeder," Thad was saying to Vera as I approached. "No, it's better if you do it like this…" He slid his arms around her and pressed his hands on top of hers, which were pressing against the linens wrapped around the man's wound. Vera stiffened at his contact and her eyes opened big and wide, but Thad didn't seem to notice or care. Not until he glanced up and caught me watching them, and then they both jumped to their feet so fast one would think I'd caught them doing something inappropriate.
"Uh…hey, Rook." Thad moved over to me, careful not to step on one of the many sleeping, injured Nords. Vera, however, turned completely away from me and busied herself with the injured man.
Huh. Well, this was interesting. "Hi." I looked down at Vera's back then pointedly at Thad.
He glanced away and fanned the tips of his hair. "Need something?"
Fine. I'd get it out of him later. "Yeah, actually…that gargon gave Alex some pretty nasty lacerations on his arm. I need supplies…and probably something to stitch him up with. Just in case."
"You gonna do some sewing, Rook?" He said sewing like it was a code word for something else.
I shoved his shoulder.
He gasped as if he'd been wrongfully accused. "I didn't even say anything!"
"You don't have to."
"I swear…" He started sifting through jars and dried herbs. "Here I am, risking my life for you and Del Can't, and all you two ever do is mouth off." He slammed a jar of salve down on a table. "Both of you."
I snatched the jar. "Thanks. Antiseptic, and a needle and string?"
"Not even an apology?"
"Maybe when you deserve one."
"Sometimes I really hate that we're related," he said.
"Why's that?"
"Because you're too much like me." He handed me a small flask, a long metal needle, and a wad of string.
"Someone's gotta show you how irritating you are." I took the supplies from him with a wink.
He grinned. "Point proven." And then he scanned the room, drumming his fingers on the counter, thinking. "There's not really any more room down here for you to work, so why don't you two go upstairs?"
"Upstairs…?" I had no idea there was an upstairs in this place.
"Yeah, there's a little loft up there. It's where the witch doctor sleeps, but, well…" He nodded to the space behind him, where Eifred had passed out in a corner, head slumped forward and snoring. "I think you two could use the privacy, anyway." Thad gave me a knowing look.
I didn't respond. Mostly because privacy with Alex sounded nice. More than nice. "And how do we get upstairs?"
"There's a staircase on the other side of this wall, right before you get to the storage closet."
I hadn't even noticed it. But then again, Thad hadn't let any of us back there. He hadn't wanted any of us messing up his system. "Thanks," I said and started walking away.
"And Rook…"
I knew I wouldn't like what he was going to say based on his smirk. He had an assortment of smirks, and this particular one translated as 'what I'm thinking is totally inappropriate, and if I said it aloud, it could possibly get me smacked.'
So, true to form, he said it aloud.
"I'll make sure no one goes upstairs tonight." He winked. He looked so proud of himself, so glorious, certain he was getting under my skin.
So I smiled. Broadly. "Thank you."
He laughed as he shook his head, and then he got back to grinding something in a mortar and pestle. I gestured for Alex to follow me, and he stepped carefully over the bodies and met me at the back of the room.
"See what I've had to put up with?" He nodded toward Thad.
I chuckled. "You heard all that, huh?"
He grinned as he held out his hands to help carry some of the supplies, and I handed him the linens and the jar of salve. "Though I have to admit: I am looking forward to a little bit of privacy," Alex said for only me to hear.
The way he looked at me made my entire body fill with butterflies, and I smiled, feeling my cheeks warm. "I am too."
Sure enough, a small wooden stair sat right between two walls, and a torch burned at the top landing. Alex followe
d right behind me, the planks of wood creaking and groaning as we ascended, and the top ended in a door that had been left slightly ajar. I pushed it open, and it creaked on its hinges.
To call it a loft was generous. This space was about the size of a large broom closet, with a low, angled ceiling and a twin bed and small table—equipped with an oil lamp—miraculously squeezed inside. A sash of pale moonlight streamed from a little round window on the far wall, illuminating a small washstand and mirror nestled in the only remaining corner.
I ducked through the low, oblique lintel. "Watch your head," I said.
He followed close behind, ducked through the low doorway and closed the door after him, but the loft's ceiling wasn't much better. It sloped upward, but even at its tallest point, near the washstand, it still brushed the top of his hair. He was too big for this room.
I grinned. "I guess this is a perk of being short."
"Whatever makes you feel better about it." His eyes sparked with something I hadn't seen in a very long time.
"I don't believe you're in any position to be teasing me right now." I waved the needle.
"I'm not in a position to be doing much of anything, so…" He tapped on the ceiling, which currently pressed his head down at an uncomfortable angle.
I laughed then took the supplies from Alex. "Take off your shirt."
"Only six months as a princess, and look how demanding you've become."
"You don't know the half of it."
"Oh, but I do."
I made a face and he laughed. I loved hearing him laugh, and the sound of it warmed me from the inside out. And then he moved to the edge of the room, near the washstand where the ceiling was a little higher, and he took off his shirt.
I couldn't help it. The sight of him momentarily paralyzed me. His smooth and tanned skin, the muscles working in his abs and arms and back as he pulled his shirt up and over his head. Sometimes—like now—he looked so beautiful I forgot to breathe. That had to be some sort of superpower: being so beautiful you stun your enemies and they asphyxiate to death. He tossed his leather shirt on the bed, looked back at me, and caught me staring. He smiled innocently.
I laughed and shoved a linen at him. "Wash up."
He didn't move a single perfectly toned muscle.
"Please," I said. "You smell terrible."
He laughed again then moved to the washstand, turned on the faucet, and set to scrubbing his hands, arms, chest, face, and hair. There I was staring at him again, so I plopped down on the bed, set our supplies on the table, and used a little bit of magic to light the little oil lamp.
"I'm so glad you got that fire thing under control," Alex teased.
I chuckled, and the mattress shifted as Alex sat down right beside me, his thigh touching mine. His hair was still damp and he'd flung the linen around his neck, and his arm brushed against mine as he leaned forward and picked the needle off the table. "By the way, have you even done sutures before?"
"No, but I figured you have, so if you need them you can tell me what to do."
He didn't look very convinced.
"Oh, shush, or I'll forget to give you anesthetic."
He laughed lightly as he set the needle back on the table. I turned to face him, one leg bent beneath me and the other hanging over the bed, and I examined the lacerations on his left arm. There were three of them: one across his forearm, one across the space above his elbow, and another across his shoulder. The cuts weren't very wide, but the line above his elbow ran particularly deep. "What do you think? Stitches on this one here?"
"Mm," he bent his head close to mine as he studied it. Now he smelled like winter and incense. "I think so. We'll have to see how it looks once it's clean."
I lightly pressed the skin around the cuts and he flinched.
I gave him a look. "Fine, huh?"
"That's just because you're touching me." He grinned and I grinned back. And then I unscrewed the lid of the salve Thad had given me. Alex promptly grabbed the jar from my hands to read the ingredients. Satisfied, he handed it back.
"Is it to your standards?" I asked.
He grinned. "It'll do."
"Good, may I start now?"
His grin spread, and then it changed a little as he ran his hand through my hair and cupped the back of my head. His eyes flickered over my face, and he slowly leaned forward and kissed me. He pulled back much too quickly, but it left me breathless all the same. He trailed his thumb over my bottom lip. "Now you may start."
Now I didn't want to start. Now I wanted him to kiss me like that, but not stop. By the smile on his face, I knew he sensed that.
Well, then, think about this: blood, pus, lacerations…
Thanks, Conscience. That did the trick.
First, I gave Alex the topical anesthetic, and once he sufficiently couldn't feel my fingertips around the open wounds, I started cleaning. I used a scrap of linen to squeeze fresh water over his cuts, and once I'd gotten out all the dirt and grime and old blood, I poured some of the antiseptic over them. The wounds bubbled and fizzed, and Alex hissed a word I didn't understand as he clenched his fists at his sides.
"More anesthetic?" I asked.
He grit his teeth, his face flushed. "No, that one's just really deep. I shouldn't be able to feel the needle too much."
"You're sure? I've got more."
He shook his head. "It's all right if I feel it."
I held his gaze a long moment, understanding completely. We got to stitching. The one in the middle was the only one that needed it, and Alex instructed me how to tie the knot, where to place the actual stitches, and just how deep I needed to make them. I felt his eyes on me while I sewed, but I focused, trying to keep the stitches small and even, zig-zagging my way through the skin while making sure I kept as close to the edge as possible without hemorrhaging the stitch. Alex flinched only once and when I was about to tie the knot at the end, he asked so softly, "Do you love him?"
I almost dropped the needle. Surprised, I looked up at Alex, but he was staring at my hand resting on his arm.
"I…didn't even think to ask you," he whispered. "Before."
I placed a hand on his cheek, turning his face so that he had to look at me. "No," I said, trying to communicate it with my eyes as well as my words. "I don't love Danton. He was good to me. He was kind…in his way. And he helped me escape. But it's not like that—at least not for me." I dropped my hand from his face, but he kept his gaze fastened on mine. "And just in case you were wondering, he behaved himself."
He grabbed a clump of my hair and twisted it between his fingertips. "That's exactly why I'm worried." His words fell so softly in the small space between us.
"Well, you don't need to be," I said, and then I leaned forward and kissed him. I kissed him because I wanted to, because I loved him, and I kissed him harder so he would know and understand it, but not too hard because he had a newly sewed laceration that still needed bandaging. I pulled back and he rested his forehead on mine with a sigh.
"Are you convinced now?" I asked.
"Getting there." I heard the smile in his voice.
I laughed and then said, "But…we do need to tie off this knot and finish bandaging you up before it rips open and I have to start all over again."
He gave me a heart-stopping smile before angling himself away from me so that I could finish. I tied a good knot, cut the string, and trailed my fingers over the tiny stitches. "So, what do you think?"
"I think I'm in trouble."
I glanced up to find him watching me with a look in his eyes that made me feel flush.
"You did a great job." He turned his attention back to my handiwork. "It's almost as good as if I'd done it myself."
I laughed again, and then we wrapped clean linens around each incision, and once we finished, I got up and walked over to the washstand to scrub the blood from my hands. Dark clumps and rusty water swirled down the drain, and once my hands were sufficiently clean, I started scrubbing my face. I was dabbing it dry
with a towel when Alex said so quietly, "I'm sorry about Stefan."
Stefan.
The thought of him sobered me immediately.
I set the towel down and took a slow, deep breath.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there," he continued. "For him. For you. I hate that I wasn't there."
"It's not your fault," I said, finally turning around and meeting his gaze. He looked as sad as I felt. And then I remembered his father had been there, too. "Have you…heard anything?"
He shook his head and raked a hand through his damp hair. "It's hard not hoping he somehow made it out alive. And my mother…" He sighed. "I don't know where she is, if she knows. This will kill her."
"She didn't leave with Sir Torren?" I asked, suddenly hopeful.
"She may have, but she'd also mentioned the possibility of going somewhere with Arioch Prime." He studied me curiously. "You know something, don't you?"
I hesitated. He didn't know what'd happened to Pendel.
"Daria…?" He sounded anxious now.
I slowly made my way back to the bed and sat down beside him. "Sir Torren isn't coming."
He stared at me, waiting, and I felt his anxiety surge.
"I…Nexus showed me," I said quietly.
"Nexus showed you what, exactly?"
"Sir Torren and his men arrived in Campagna, but…Lord Vega's men were waiting for them. I didn't see it happen…just the aftermath. Nexus flew me to the battlefield."
He sat quiet and still for a very long time. "Were there any survivors?"
"I don't know," I said. "None that I saw, but that doesn't mean some couldn't have snuck away. Maybe you can ask the prisoners."
Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) Page 47