“I have some salve,” I say decisively, because he’s come here forsolutions and I don’t want to let him down. Otherwise, I’m going to go get my ax and go after his father. “I have some muslin, too. We should wrap it.”
He nods.
I fetch some supplies, along with a fresh bowl of cool water. When I try to put his hand in it, he grimaces and pulls away.
“You have to clean it,” I say. “Jax, you’ve got soot everywhere.”
I keep my hand wrapped around his wrist, and after a moment, he allows me to immerse it in the bowl. He swears and his eyes water, and I reevaluate those tracks on his cheeks.
“Nora,” I say. “We’ll need some fresh eggs for the next loaves. While I help Jax, can you see if you can gather any more from the coop?”
“The hens hate me! They always peck my wrists!”
That’s true, but they peckmywrists, too. I inhale to tell her so, but Jax looks at her.
“Please, Nora,” he says.
Maybe it’s because he’s not a sibling, or maybe she can hear the whisper of pain in his voice, but either way, she shuts her mouth and nods.
Once she’s gone, the bakery is so quiet that I can hear his breathing, just a little too fast, with a bit of a tremor to every exhale.
I tear a square of muslin and dip it in the water, then touch it to his face. His eyes lift to meet mine in surprise, but he doesn’t pull away.
“You’re a mess,” I say.
“Lord Alek returned,” he says softly.
I draw a sharp breath and glance at his hand. “Didhedo this to you? I knew something must have—”
“No. I told you. I grabbed hold of the forge.”
I still find that hard to believe—but Jax has never lied to me. “Have you seen him before?”
“The day he came here,” he says, then winces.
“No—I mean before that.”
“No.” His eyes search mine. “Why?”
I hesitate. The answer feels like it’s on the edge of my consciousness, but I can’t place it. “I don’t know. Something about him seems familiar.”
“Not to me.” He pauses. “He agreed to pay fifty silvers this time.”
“Fifty!” There will be penalties for asking for that kind of money, and I know Jax is only asking for so much so he can help me as well. It makes me want to give him back the silver that he’s already given me.
Jax nods, then swallows. “I need you to keep it here.” His voice catches. “I had to ask for more. Da took the rest.”
I stroke another line of dirt off his cheek, but I hold his gaze. This feels risky in all the wrong ways. “What’s in these letters?”
“I don’t know.” Jax fishes the folded parchment out of his pocket and tosses it on the table between us. “Even if I could get it open, I’m not sure I could re-create the detail to seal it closed again.”
I study the broad circle of wax, with swirls of the green and black of Syhl Shallow. It features a horse head, a sword, and several deeper stars all entwined, encircled by delicate loops in silver. It’s so intricate that it must be a House sigil of some kind, but I have no idea which one. Or maybe it’s something exclusive to the Truthbringers? I just don’t know.
He sighs disgustedly. “If I had the use of this hand, I could try to forge something close, but now …” His voice trails off.
I dip the muslin in the water again. My eyes shy away from the damage to his hand, magnified by the water now.
“Do you want to know what it says?” I say softly.
