Blood rushing to my cheeks, I squirm as the mender’s brows furrow. “Not on purpose. I was trying to remove my sleeves so we could use them to staunch Joss’s bleeding. I’ll be fine.”
He nods. “You will be, but I’d recommend at least two hours of sun exposure to counteract the lasting effects of the nightstone. Otherwise, the lacerations may take longer to heal and could become prone to infection.”
“Niles almost got hit with a nightstone missile,” I say, eager to get the attention off me.
“Almost,”Niles emphasizes, scooting aside a stack of papers to lean against the glass tabletop.
I cross my arms. “You lost consciousness.”
The mender inspects the dilation of his pupils. “Could be aconcussion, or vasovagal syncope. Do you have any aches in your head or neck?”
“None of concern.”
“Any nausea? Dizziness?”
“No.” Niles meets my gaze, then rolls his eyes, as if I’m to blame for the mender’s fussing.
“Can you recall the events prior to the impact?”
“I was standing next to Joss, lending her some of my power as she searched through the Pyre’s memories, when I saw a dark object hurtling towards us. I tried to pull her away, but wasn’t fast enough.” His brow furrows. “Next thing I remember is waking up to a pitch-black sky and Kalden channeling the last of his waning energy into me.”
“You said it was a nightstone missile,” the mender says, glancing back at me. “Can you explain to me what that is?”
The mender’s calm smile finally falters as I give a brief summary of Gabe’s invention of airborne carbon nightoxide.
“And each of you breathed this in?”
“Yes.”
“I see,” he says with a frown. “There’s no way of knowing how long the effects of inhaled nightstone particles will last. It might take a few hours or days of consistent sun exposure to cleanse the toxins from your body.”
Niles rises from the table. “We won’t be able to channel until it’s fully gone?”
The mender tilts his head. “Not necessarily. As it fades, your harnessing abilities should gradually be restored, but you may find your bandwidth significantly more limited. I recommend avoiding prolonged channeling until your system is completely free from the nightstone. Anything more than quick bursts of power may increase your chances of burnout.”
Jaw clenching, Niles dips his chin. “Let’s hope that won’t be necessary.”
“We’ll arrangeher burial a half hour after first light tomorrow,” the female mender says to Demi while Kalden ushers us back outside. “Until then, I want you to get some food and rest, okay, dear?”
Demi’s covered head barely moves as it hangs downcast.
Niles breaks off from our group to take Gabe to the holds, while Kalden leads the rest of us on a brief tour of Lucis.
My fingers twitch with the urge to pull Demi into an embrace, but Twilynn beats me to it, which is likely for the better. If I were her, the last thing I’d want is to be in close contact with a Sol, or someone whowasa Sol. Though the light left my veins more than an hour ago and I am not the creature that took her friend’s life, it isn’t an easy thing, undoing that groomed hatred. It’s a truth made evident each time Aruna’s hand flinches on the hilt of her dagger when a passerby gets too close.
“What do you think’s in there?” Gem asks, and I blink, shifting my gaze to the large center dome she points towards—the one I’d spotted when the village first came into view.
I shrug. “Maybe it’s the living quarters for whoever’s in charge around here?”
Gem leans in, voice dropping. “Do you think they have a chancellor, too?”
“We don’t, and it isn’t,” Kalden says over his shoulder as he steers us through a particularly crowded pathway lined with men and women holding pliable poles over the bridge’s ledge. “That building there is our communal greenhouse. We have several larger crops afew miles northwest, but most of our produce is grown right there in the main dome, where residents can pick vegetables, herbs, and fruits at their discretion.”
“How do the rations work?” I ask, glancing at the back of my left hand out of habit, though my glove conceals the marred brand from view.
A middle-aged woman to my left sets her curved pole down against the railing before turning towards me. “Rations? Honey, we don’t do that tiered nonsense here. There’s more than enough to go around, as long as folks don’t get greedy.”
Brows pulling together, I stop walking. “You know about the tiers?”
