She reached into the small pouch at her belt and produced a silver needle and silk thread from her healing kit. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”
He stared at her for a long moment, clearly skeptical, then sighed. “Do it quickly. Dawn isn’t far off.”
She worked as fast as she dared, cleaning the wounds with the remaining soap and water before beginning to stitch. Her handsshook at first—she’d never sewn flesh before, only practiced on fabric—but the familiar rhythm of needle and thread steadied her.
“Why?” Brandt asked quietly as she worked. “Why do you keep putting yourself in danger for this bite you want so badly?”
She kept her eyes on her stitching. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
“There are people who need to see that you’re not the perfect protectors everyone believes you to be.” The words felt hollow even as she spoke them. After watching Brandt risk himself to save her yet again, Lord Wilkin’s cause seemed less clear-cut than it had in his marble parlor.
“And you’re willing to die for this cause?”
“I had no plans to die.” She tied off the thread on his calf and moved to his ribs.
He was quiet while she worked, grimacing as she cleaned his wounds there. These were shallower and only needed a few stitches. Then she rubbed a comfrey salve over all the injuries.
“That gargoyle who attacked you…he’ll be deployed with my watch in a few days. If I hadn’t been here, if he’d killed you...” He shook his head. “He’s arrogant and reckless, but he’s not a murderer. The guilt would have eaten him alive. They would have taken his wings. His family would lose their roost. It might happen anyway if this story gets out.”
Idabel’s fists clenched involuntarily. She certainly knew what it felt like to have her home and limbs in jeopardy. It hurt to put another in the same position, even if it was necessary. “I’m sorry. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix anything.” But Brandt’s voice was gentle rather than angry. “You can’t keep doing this, Idabel. I can’t protect you forever.”
A sound from the passageway made them both freeze. Footsteps, and the rustle of wings.
“Brandt?” came his mother’s voice, sharp with concern. “I heard there was trouble in the training halls—”
He was on his feet in an instant, hauling Idabel with him toward an archway with a hefty wooden door. “My nest,” he hissed, pushing her through it. “Hide. Don’t make a sound.”
The space inside was smaller and more intimate than the main chamber, dominated by a large depression in the floor lined with soft furs and cushions. His sleeping place. She curled up in the shadows behind a carved screen, her heart hammering as she listened to the muffled conversation outside.
“—just a training accident,” Brandt was saying. “Rikard got a bit overenthusiastic. Nothing serious.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Barely scratches. How was the skyball?”
“Crowded as usual. I talked with a fourth-tier female whose daughter might be looking for a mate next year.”
Brandt made a noncommittal grunt. There was a pause, and Idabel held her breath. Could his mother smell her? Even washed, did some trace of the war-bat scent remain?
“If you’re certain you’re all right...”
“I’m fine. Go roost. Dawn will be here soon.”
More footsteps, then the sound of a door closing. After what felt like an eternity, Brandt appeared in the archway to the nest. In the pre-dawn gloom, she could barely make out his silhouette.
“Stay here until full light,” he said quietly. “Then slip out while we’re stone. If the keepers ask you what happened, pretend ignorance of the whole affair. It’s better if they don’t drag you in front of the Nadir.”
She nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
She could feel his heavy gaze on her even in the darkness. “This has to stop, Idabel. Whatever you’re truly after, whatever someone has promised you, it’s not worth your life. I told you, we don’tbite.”
“I know,” she whispered, cheeks heating with shame. He had warned her against it. Some things were worth the risk, though, even if it didn’t work out.
“Do you? Because I’m leaving soon. I won’t be here to pull you away from the cliff’s edge next time.”
