“I don’t think so.”
Inari set aside the cloth and the water he’d used, reaching for the bowl of thick dark liquid. “Your arm.”
She offered it without protest. He dipped a finger in the substance and spread a generous amount across one cut on her forearm. It was cold, and the effect was a little numbing. She gasped, almost tugging her arm away, though he held her in place.
“Did that hurt?” he asked.
“No,” she said. “But you’re rubbing mud into my open wound. While I’m no healer, even I know that can’t be good.”
He chuckled. “It’s not mud. It’s a poultice. Look.” He took up another cloth and dipped it into the second bowl of unused water. Wringing it out, he swept the poultice away. The substance lifted, leaving unblemished skin behind.
“What?” Aloisia pulled her wrist from his grasp, inspecting the skin more closely. What had been a fairly deep gash moments ago was now perfectly healed. There was not even a scar to show it had happened.
“Your wounds are minor,” he said. “It is of small issue to repair them.” He reached for her again, waiting for her to allow him to continue.
Aloisia paused a moment, baffled by the magic. She brushed her fingers over the skin again, fascinated. At the back of her mind, the judiciaries warning niggled at her. Lusana had said the practice of his magic in Teneria was a crime. Whilst she could trust her sisters, and she knew neither Mavka nor Kaja would breathe a word of it to anyone beyond their guild, she still feared the repercussions of it.
“You know shamans were outlawed in Teneria, don’t you?” she asked.
He inclined his head. “I do.”
“Why risk it?”
“Who would know?” He shrugged. “It is a simple poultice. Your people have healers. They do much the same, though not as effective, of course.”
“Why risk meeting with the judiciaries? They could imprison you. Or worse.”
“I cannot stay in that forest forever,” he uttered, his voice soft, as if he were more telling himself than her. “When I came here, I made my choice. And I made my choice when I offered to help you. If I do not assist, if I sit back and do nothing, what then? What would that achieve? These creatures are more of a problem than your people wish to acknowledge. If I can help to make them admit the danger they face, then at least it’s something.”
“Why are you here, Inari? In Teneria.”
He tilted his head, meeting her gaze. He was silent for so long she feared he wouldn’t answer. At least this time, he was not hiding his face. His shoulders tensed, his eyes narrowed, though she could see in their hazel depths the workings of his mind as he filtered through what to say, if anything.
“I had nowhere else to go,” he murmured, quiet enough she almost missed the words. He lowered his gaze, his lashes hiding the pain there, not before Aloisia glimpsed it.
“Why?”
He let out a sigh. “It is a long story. Come, let’s get you patched up.” Inari reached for her again and she gave him her arm.
Aloisia studied him as he spread the poultice on each scratch, wiping it away with the cloth. Each time, it surprised her anew at the wonder of it, at the incredible way the skin closed over the wound as if it had never been there.
She knew better than to push further answers out of him. It was more than he had told her of his past prior to now, but she couldn’t help pondering what he meant. Why did he have nowhere else to go? What had happened to his home? To his people?
Inari started with her arms, where the worst of the scratches were. He glanced at her before sweeping her hair back over her shoulder, examining the scrape along her collarbone. Heat rose in her cheeks as he pulled aside the thick strap of her bodice, his fingers moving deftly across her clavicle and up around her shoulder. As close as he was, she could feel his breath stir upon her bare skin. He dabbed the cloth over it, and the sting of the cut eased. Carefully, he replaced her strap atop her shoulder.
The shaman sat back, wringing out the cloth, and Aloisia hoped he hadn’t noticed the flush of her cheeks. He moved onto her face, applying the poultice on her cheekbone and forehead. Her breath hitched as he drew closer. A small smile tugged at Inari’s lips.
“There,” he said, once done, “as good as new.”
Aloisia cleared her throat. “Thank you. You didn’t have to.”
“Perhaps not. What good are these powers if I can’t use them?”
“I wouldn’t say that to the judiciaries.” She breathed a laugh. “I don’t think they would agree.” She wove her fingers together in her lap. “You can stay here, if you like? Whilst we’re out on the hunt. It may be too dangerous to return to your hut just yet.”
“You may be right.” Inari busied himself clearing away the bowls and cloths. “Those woods may be dangerous for a while yet.”
“You’re more than welcome here.”
