I startled. “I didn’t see you standing there.”
He stepped closer, into a pool of light. “Would it have mattered if you had?”
“Probably not,” I answered truthfully. “Finished already?”
“I did promise to make it quick.”
“Males often do.”
Henri chuckled softly while sidestepping us, and I decided I liked the sound.
I kicked Ghedi’s hip, urging him to follow.
“Wait here.” Henri put a finger to my lips. “No—don’t argue. I need room to work.”
I bit his pointer. His breath caught when my teeth pierced his skin. I liked the sound of that too.
Without another word, the good doctor left us to amuse ourselves in the hall.
Ghedi and I exchanged a glance.
“Don’t go there,” he said quietly.
“He’s Araneidae royalty.” Second born son or not. “I’m not going anywhere.”
We stood in comfortable silence, listening as Henri’s muffled voice droned while he questioned Fynn. Without Ghedi acting as a translator, which left me as the odd female out, I assumed they were of the yes or no variety. That was a good thing if that meant Fynn was cognizant enough for answers.
The monotony had almost lulled me to sleep when the door opened and Henri motioned to us.
“Enter if you like.” He studied me while drying his hands with a rag. “You look tired.”
Ghedi volunteered, “I am.”
My cheeks burned as though I had been chewing hot coals.
He nudged Henri aside, his silent laughter jarring my shoulder. “My arms could use a rest.”
My treacherous brother swept me into the room, plopping me into a chair angled toward the bed. Henri placed a stool at my feet and set a pillow atop it before gently lifting my leg. He arranged my calf on the cushion he’d made for me and left my foot dangling. Having my ankle elevated helped with the throbbing pain that had worsened the longer Ghedi carried me, but my sigh of relief was short-lived.
Henri straightened with a promise. “I’ll tend to you in a minute.”
“I can wait.” I’d broken my share of bones as a child. I knew what misery lay ahead. I could wait quite happily for my turn.
Ghedi caught Henri’s arm. “Shouldn’t you examine her wound now that Fynn’s stabilized?”
Henri surprised us both by breaking the hold with one precise twist of his arm. “His condition is more serious than I first suspected. If you can stay there and keep still, I’ll resume his examination.”
He crossed the room to a painted cupboard and withdrew a gleaming tray of silver instruments.
Ghedi positioned himself by my chair. “If he stuck his nose any higher, he’d drown in the rain.”
“Let him work.” I peeled the cap off my head and tousled my hair. Ghedi shook his head at me. His hair was longer than mine now. I didn’t envy him as I tamed the sweaty spikes against my scalp.
He leaned down, even with my ear. “How are you—?”
“Not another word.” I shoved him. “I’m fine.”
He righted himself. “You’d say that if an ursus was mauling you.”
I grimaced. “I’m not that bad.”
His eyebrows climbed.
My brow lowered. “Why don’t you see to our ursus? The stables are less confining than this.”
Ghedi’s restlessness frazzled my already sensitive nerves.
“This is where I’m needed.” He planted his feet wide apart. “The ursus can wait.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” Turning my attention to Henri’s methodical inspection of Fynn’s skull, I was about to ask what caused the frown tugging at his mouth when my lips became too stiff to bend, words too difficult to form. My head lolled, too heavy for me to hold upright.
I plummeted into a dreamy state where even Ghedi’s nattering no longer annoyed me. He cupped my good shoulder while he ripped off my coat with the other.
I didn’t mind. It didn’t hurt. Not anymore.
If I focused on his lips, I could read the tumble of words spewing from his mouth: Get over here now. I don’t give two damns about the bump on Fynn’s head. Help Zuri. What’s the matter with her?
Henri fell to his knees at my side and pressed two fingers against my pulse. The shock of his finger probing my wound made me strangle on a whimper.
“Zuri?” He cupped my face and tilted my head back. “Can you hear me? Zuri?”
His eyes were mesmerizing up close. Too bad the closer he got, the louder he became.
I wanted to shout I wasn’t in need of saving, that I was tired, that if they would only let me rest, I would be fine. But the harder I struggled to surface, the more impossible it became to keep my eyes open. Lost in the abyss, I was drowning. The faster I sank, the fiercer I fought its drugging surrender.
Black waters closed over my head. All the air in my lungs expelled on a terrified scream.
Chapter Three
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“Hmm?”
Warm hands smoothed over my skin, a perfect counterpoint to the frigid weight encasing my leg. Only a dream. I snuggled deeper beneath my blanket, but the same numbing chill penetrated my shoulder.
“I took the liberty of setting your ankle while you slept.”
My eyes flipped open. I lay in a room I had never seen before with Henri running his hands over my leg. “Am I still dreaming?” No. Dream Henri wouldn’t have stopped at my knee. “Where am I?” Fabric slid off my shoulder when I shifted. “What is this—a dressing gown? Where are my clothes?”
“You are in the room across from Fynn’s.” Henri wiped his forehead with his wrist. He sat on a stool pulled near the foot of the bed. His hands were covered in white paste, and strips of fabric hung over his thigh. He tapped my kneecap, leaving a white fingerprint. “Straighten this leg and hold still. As to your attire, yes, it is a dressing gown. Your clothes were ruined. I had to cut you out of them.”
“Better you than my brothers,” I supposed. “How long was I out?”
“The better part of a day.” He chose a strip, soaked it in the solution at his feet then applied it.
“What are you doing?” I wiggled my toes. They were the only unbound part of my lower leg.
“I’m making a cast to support your ankle.” He caressed me slowly from my knee to my heel, not that I felt it. “Several rows of silk were used in its construction. It must be removed—by me—with a specialized saw. No one else can cut it, so don’t try and remove it by yourself when it starts itching.”
“Araneidae silk, I presume?” Did they keep skeins of it lying around for such purposes?
He lifted a mottled hand. Thread hung from his pointer. “It was the last time I checked.”
“You’ll have to remove it.” My stomach pitched. “I can’t afford that.”
“It’s done, and undoing it would be pointless.” He glanced up. “We’ll discuss payment later.”
I nodded, feeling more nauseous than grateful. “You used your own silk.”
Why that struck me as scandalous, I couldn’t say. Perhaps because he was Araneidae royalty. Or perhaps because his silk, even a few strands, would fetch such a handsome price in the black market stalls in Cathis, I could sell my cast and finance my brothers and my early retirement as mercenaries. All of a sudden, my leg itched miserably. I wanted to scratch off plaster in chunks and fling it at him.
I was used to being bought. This felt like something more. It felt like pity. Or worse, kindness.
I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think I liked either.
He paused to study me. “Don’t you use your silk in your trade?”
“Of course I do.” I wove as fine a net as any of my kin. “But I don’t spin Araneidae silk.”
Their silk was pearlescent and sumptuous. Rumor had it, each strand was unbreakable. With my head clearing, I remembered Henri had mentioned the tunnels were reinforced with silk. No wonder their nest was touted as th
e deepest and most extensive underground living space ever constructed.
“You think I ought to only spin silk when there is profit to be made?” His slight grin reappeared.
“I didn’t consider how common its use is for you.” I slumped against my pillows and appraised him. “It would be wasteful not to use the gifts the gods gave you. It’s what my clan does. I shouldn’t have expected less from yours.” A yawn stretched my jaw. “Where are my brothers? How is Fynn?”
“He woke before you.” At my look, he went on to say, “He had a concussion. As to why he was slow to rouse, I believe blood loss was the culprit. Head wounds bleed profusely, and circumstances kept you from bandaging him properly. He required stitches, but not as many as you. Malik is with him now. Tau and Kaleb are in my laboratory, guarding your ward. Ghedi went to eat. He hasn’t left your side since you blacked out, so I assured him that I would remain here with you until his return.”
“That was kind of you,” I ventured.
“I had a cast to finish.” He took a damp rag and cleaned the starchy splatter from my knee, then scrubbed the dried clumps from his hands and pants. “There was no sense in us both going hungry.”
“Oh.” I plucked at my covers.
“Did I say something wrong?” He began tidying his work area.
“Does bedside service cost more?” I ignored his question. “I doubt I can afford your attention.”
“Be that as it may…” his gaze held mine, “…you have it.”
“I…” I struggled for the right words, settling on, “Thank you.”
He accepted my gratitude with an obliging nod. “How is your shoulder?”
“Good.” I rotated the joint and felt only mild discomfort. “Shouldn’t I be in more pain?”
He stopped with his arms full of implements. “I can arrange for you to be if you prefer it.”
“Um, no.” Battered as I knew I must be, I marveled at how well I felt. “I was simply curious.”
“I dabble in herbology.” He rolled a shoulder. “Honestly, I’m more herbologist than physician.”
What could I say to that? “Your skills seem wasted on plants.”
“I don’t think so.” He set his supplies in a box by the door, tossing the dirty rag on top. “There’s only so much a physician can do without medicine, wouldn’t you agree? Where does he get herbs for his concoctions? From a herbologist. A physician’s days are consumed by patients. They have no time to cultivate herbs. Without studies and trials, there can be no advances in the medical field. If I had a—” Red crept from his cheeks into his hairline. “All this talk must bore someone like yourself.”
He reclaimed his seat, resting his elbows on his knees while he examined his work.
I was tempted to thump his skull. If he had been one of my brothers, I would have.
“I might have been raised by simple river folk,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean I am simple.”
His cool hand clasped mine. “I meant no insult, Zuri. You’ve seen places I’ve only read about in textbooks.” He straightened. “What you must have seen…where you might have been…I envy you.”
“With such fine brothers as she has, who wouldn’t envy her?” Ghedi appeared with a tray in his hands. Sweeping Henri aside, he approached the bed. “Well, how is the patient? She looks…flushed. Is her fever coming back? You said her…” His knuckles whitened where he gripped the tray. “I see.”
He slapped the tray down hard enough the silverware jingled.
I flinched.
Henri ignored Ghedi and headed for the door.
“The swelling in her shoulder has gone down.” Henri nudged his box into the hall with his foot. “When I return this afternoon, I’ll check her stitches. The cast is done but must harden. That should take the rest of today. She must stay off her ankle for four weeks. At that point, I’ll reassess.” Henri snapped his fingers. “Oh. I gave her herbs for pain after you left. I brewed them into her tea. There’s more in the kettle there. Give her a half cup every four hours. More than that causes stomach upset.”
“Four weeks.” I pushed myself upright. “Is that how long you’ve hired us?”
“I haven’t decided.” He tugged at his collar. “I’ll think on it and let you know.”
“You do that.”
“Rest if you can. I’ll see you this afternoon.” He slid from the room and didn’t look back.
I ruffled my sleep-matted hair. “He sounds reluctant to have us working for him, doesn’t he?”
Ghedi shook his head. “You didn’t give him a choice.”
I snorted. “Males with his resources are never without options.”
“I will grant you that,” he said, “and he was the one who decided to employ us.”
“Guilt?” I asked.
He appeared to consider that. “Or desperation.”
“As long as the pay’s good, I can make use of either.”
“I never had any doubt.”
“What’s with that face?” I asked. “Scowl any harder and you might break something.”
“You could have been killed,” he said. “This is my my-sister-almost-died face.”
“And to think people say females are dramatic. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine.”
“Fynn is stable. You—” His jaw flexed. “I can’t trust you to tell me when you’re not fine.”
“I had no choice.” Surely he must see that. “Our ward was seconds from escaping.”
“I was not even an arm’s length away,” he snapped. “You could have asked me for help.”
“I didn’t need your help,” I snapped back.
“That’s your problem. Right there. You never think you do. You charge into a situation and grab it by the balls. I just—” He exhaled. “I don’t understand. We are a family. We work as a team.”
“You don’t know what it was like, before, having you five as brothers. You were legends. I was the little girl who was left behind whenever you set off on your adventures. Don’t tell me I can’t risk my neck when that’s the legacy you five handed down. Everything I know I learned by watching you.” My throat tightened, but I forced out the words. “I wanted—I want—to make you all proud.”
“Mercy be.” He stared at me. “I don’t know what Henri put in that tea, but that’s as close to sense as you’ve ever made.” He approached the bed and took my hand. “I am proud—all of us are.”
I ducked under the blanket. “That’s enough. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“But you did, and we’re going to get this out. If this weighs so heavily on you, then you ought to hear it.” He inhaled. “It’s hard to watch you take the same risks we do. That doesn’t mean we don’t respect you. It means you’re the only sister we have. It seems like yesterday you were diving off the dock and squealing to be caught before you hit the water. We know you’re grown. We just need time to accept it. Do us all a favor and don’t get killed attempting to pry open our eyes in the meantime.”
I squeezed his fingers. “I will give it my best effort.”
“That’s all I ask.” He pulled away and returned with the tray. “Feel like eating?”
“It depends.” I sniffed. “What do you have under there?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Varanus steak, roasted potatoes and some type of leafy greens.”
My mouth watered. “I hope you plated some for yourself.”
“I ate with Fynn.” He held the tray over my head. “Can you unfold the legs?”
“I don’t need the legs.” I had eaten with a plate balanced on my lap for most of my life.
“You are stubborn for stubborn’s sake.” He shifted the tray and lowered the hinged feet himself.
“It’s frivolous and pointless.” Did the Araneidae eat meals in bed so often as to require these?
“It’s courteous to use what our host provides.” He saddled my lap with a flourish. “I assume that Henri skimmed the part about how you can’t use your arm for a few days, until
the stitches heal up.”
“No.” I snatched the roll from my plate and bit into it. “He neglected to mention that part.”
“You’ll be eating one-handed. Unless…” He grinned. “I could feed you.”
In answer, I snubbed the silverware he had arranged and picked up the steak with my hand.
“I thought you’d say that.” He reached into a pocket and withdrew a crinkled linen napkin.
Buttery soft as the meat was, I moaned at the first bite. The potatoes and greens required a fork, but I had made my point, silly as it was. After swallowing the last mouthful, I collapsed onto the pillows. Ghedi flung the napkin at me, hitting me on the forehead. I shook out the folds. “Thanks.”
“Do I detect sarcasm, dear sister?”
“Why no, brother dearest.” I rolled my eyes. “My profuse gratitude must have confused you.”
“You’re right.” He smirked. “If you ever showed gratitude, it would confuse me.”
While I grumbled, Ghedi returned the tray to the table by the door. While his back was turned, I balled the napkin tight in my good hand. Waiting until he spun back around with a cup in his hand, I hurled the greasy cloth between his eyes as hard as I could. It tapped his biceps then fell to the floor.
“Great.” I would have to injure my dominant arm. “Now my aim is as good as yours.”
Rather than accept how far off the mark I’d been, I nestled into my covers.
Tipping my head back, I shut my eyes and pretended to sleep while wishing I had thought to ask Henri how our ward was enjoying her new quarters. Rest was elusive while my frantic mind whirred.
Too long had we guarded her for me to relinquish custody without a few proprietary twinges.
Ghedi was seconds from mutiny. I studied him from behind my cup of tea while I sipped the bitter dregs. One day trapped in the tunnels, in a room, with me, and he was wild-eyed and sweating.
I tossed a pillow at him. “Do you mind?”
“Rarely.” He bent and scooped up the cushion. “How do you stand it?”
I swept my arm down my leg. “I don’t have much choice, do I?” I lifted the edge of the net I had begun weaving. It was a new pattern, tighter, stronger than my usual designs. “What do you think?”
Breath of Winter, A Page 4