Eres watches my face like he’s examining me for illness. “Any dizziness?”
“No.” I flex my fingers, startled by how much they feel. The scars pull slightly, but I can feel my luminththere, present in a way it hasn't been since the Veilspire. “It’s… it’s like my hands woke up.”
He nods, satisfied. “Good. Give it a minute. Then you can try.”
Try.
“What if it doesn’t work?” I flex them again, pushing down my own impatience.
Eres’s gaze lifts to mine. “Then we’ll try again.”
I wait for a few, impatient minutes until he gives me a nod. Glad the room is empty of patients, I lift my hands slowly and turn my palms upward. “It’s usually close to immediate.”
For a moment, nothing happens. Panic claws at my throat.
Then—
A faint glow blooms in my right palm, and my breath catches. It flickers into a small, glowing light, only the faintest ache accompanying it.
Eres grins at the look on my face. “I’d like to bottle that expression.”
“Of course you would,” I mutter, still concentrating. “Healer.”
But I’m smiling. I push it a little more, calling up the daggers. They slide into my palms, and I wrap my hands around them, feeling the familiar warmth. “I’ve missed these.”
“Not too much.” But Eres is watching my palm, fascination in his eyes. “It’s not so different from erevas, really.”
Light and dark. I close my palms regretfully, letting them slip away and leaving a pleasant tingle behind.
A shaky laugh escapes me. And then I swallow, wiping at my eyes with the heel of my hand. “Thank you.”
His gaze holds mine. “Please don’t kill anyone.”
“I won’t,” I study my hands. “I can’t anyway. The Binding.”
Eres sighs. “I doubt very much that Erevan would see killing Nythen as a betrayal of me, but let’s not test it.”
I bite my cheek again to hide my grin. “There’s some violence inside you, Eres.”
He arches his brow. “You only just noticed?”
He keeps me occupied with stocking supplies and useless, interesting pieces of knowledge until lunchtime. Grateful for the distraction, I sit down opposite him at his workbench, taking the vegetable stew he hands me. “Thank you for distracting me.”
His hand brushes my cheek. “I’m not sure who’s the biggest distraction.”
I’m close to smiling when the door slams open hard enough to rattle the shelves. Cold air sweeps into the room, carrying the scent of rust with it.
“Elspeth?” Eres is on his feet instantly, stool scraping back as I follow, pushing myself upright.
Sera’s partner is tall and broad-shouldered, her leathers torn at the elbows. Her hair is braided tightly into rows, but loose strands cling to her petite, russet-brown face, traced with narrow riftlines that spread out over her damp cheeks. “Eres.” She’s shaking. “She needs—she needs help.”
Her voice breaks. The bite of my meal turns to ash in my mouth.
In her arms she carries a body, cradling it gently. “Please.”
Sera.
Her head lolls, dark hair plastered to her forehead. Blood saturates the front of her leather uniform in a spreading stain, so dark it’s almost black.
