He continued extracting himself, tucking the blanket around me. “I have to check on a few things, and you need more salve for your shoulder. We will pick this back up later, I promise.” Something akin to a smile floated over his lips.
And I knew he would. I couldn’t explain it, but I trusted him implicitly at this point.
“Okay.”
He turned away, his shoulders tense, before turning back to place one last passionate kiss on my lips.
I was having the dream again, the ones of the Purge, when my parents were taken from me. But unlike before, there were bells tolling in the background, and they wouldn’t stop.
“Runa!”
Something was tapping my shoulder.
“Runa!”
I jolted from where I had been lurking, the place between waking and sleeping, to find Friar leaning over me, a finger pressed to her lips. “Malheim is attacking, we have to get you somewhere safe.”
Her hushed words made me realize the bells hadn’t been in my dream at all, but here, in real life. It was the alarm.
I rolled my shoulder. Though Otho had commented on waiting for it to heal, it felt almost normal now. Just a small twinge of pain at the edge of my range of motion caused me to wince.
“Come on, we have to get to the cellar.”
I shook my head and brushed Friar’s hand away, fighting the last tendrils of sleep that lingered. “I have magic; I should fight.”
She blinked at me, her jaw slackened. “You really think you can battle swords and arrows with air magic?”
I was taken aback that she already knew one of my powers, but there was no time to discuss how she had learned that now, even if she did have a point. I scoured the room, my gaze settling on the pot over the fire. “Do you have some peppers? The spicy kind?”
Friar’s brows gathered in the center of her face, even as her hand pointed. “Right there, but I don’t think now is the time to cook?—”
I cut her off, pushing myself into a standing position. “We aren’t cooking; I have an idea.”
Friar was at a loss of what to say, stepping aside as I pushed past her to pull the string of peppers from the ceiling. “The knife, in my bodice, what happened to it?” The words came out in a rush.
“I think Otho has it, but here—” She pulled a carving knife from her belt, pressing the handle into my hand.
Despite the pressure of the current situation, I felt my muscles relax at the familiar position as I chopped the peppers into small pieces, pushing them into a pile on the table.
The bells became part of the symphony of preparing a potion as I chopped in rhythmic motions between the peals and the shouts coming from the hall.
When the peppers were all chopped, I turned to the pot on the fire, using a towel to pull it off. There was a brown liquid inside.
Friar was already there, holding out some jars. “Here.”
I poured the liquid into the jars. “A lid?”
She thrust one toward me as I scooped the peppers into the pot, placing the lid securely on the top before placing it back over the fire. “When this is ready, we have to move fast.”
She nodded just as we heard the sound of boots approaching in the hall. My gaze caught on the wooden arm that was keeping the door locked. Neither of us said anything, both of us knowing we needed to hurry.
I had never believed in any of the ancient gods some inRalheim had worshiped, but now I whispered a quick prayer, begging the fire to cook the peppers faster.
I grimaced as the wooden plank over the door rattled. Friar ran to the door, leaving me to beg the peppers to break down into the gas I knew they would.
She pressed her body to the door, her widened eyes fixed on the pot. I had never considered Friar to be strong, but now, as the door started to vibrate and bow beneath her hold, I realized her tunic hid more muscle than I had assumed.
“How much?” She forced the words through her gritted teeth.
