The color drained from my face, and a chill ran down my spine. “W-what’s that?”
“A creature similar to a nethral, but that retains some of the cunning of a human. They walk in the shadows of the world, preying on the flesh of others.”
Panic rose in me, and it was such a sensation that I couldn’t squash it down. “A-are you saying I’ll turn into a monster? Is that what’s going to happen to me?” I squirmed so horribly in the saddle that I nearly tumbled off.
Only the king’s gentle hands kept me from dropping to the ground. He grasped my arms and held me so our eyes met. A gentle smile spread across his lips. “Nothing will happen to you. I swear it on the grave of my forefathers.”
In all the panic and fear, a ridiculous thought struck me. I choked on a laugh and received a quizzical expression from him. I wiped away a few wild tears and shook my head. “Those forefathers of yours are really working overtime lately. First for Titus and now me.”
The king chuckled, and his eyes lit up with a soft warmth that soothed my fears. At least some of them. “I’m afraid they are, but trouble does tend to find me.”
“Then that makes two of us,” I quipped as I swept my eyes over the fantastical forest in which we rode. Speaking of fantasy, a question popped into my head, and I dropped my gaze to his arm that hung on my right side, holding the reins. He had replaced his sleeve and hidden his flesh. “What were you doing back there? Those scales…were they really from you?”
“These?” he mused as he raised his right arm and drew his left hand across me, where he used it to draw down his sleeve. He gave his lifted arm a shake, and a few scales partially emerged from his flesh.
My jaw hit the saddle and bounced off to fall on the ground. I lifted a finger and pointed at the scales. “H-how are you doing that?”
He flicked his wrist, and the scales vanished back into his skin. “Magic.”
My stomach churned, and I clutched my hand over it. “I think I’ve had enough magic for a while.”
“We’ll rest up ahead, and you will be yourself by midday.”
I managed a weak smile. “Another promise on your forefathers?”
He set his left hand on my arm. “That one is from me.”
The night was growing old by the time the king pulled up the reins to a full stop. He slid down and turned to me, where he stretched out his arms. I eased one leg over the saddle and was glad for the gentle help to the ground. My legs couldn’t take any rough shock.
Still, even in my infirmity, I couldn’t help but notice that the king moved with deliberate slowness. My eyes dropped to his side, where his coat hid his wound.
“Did you want me to take a look at that wound of yours?” I offered. “I’m not much of a nurse, but I can give it a try.”
He gently pressed his hand against his side and frowned. “I would be glad for an extra hand along the back.”
My face fell. “The back? Is it that bad?”
He moved over to a fallen tree and took a seat. “We shall see.”
The horse whinnied and nodded his head at the pack behind the saddle. The king smiled. “Of course. My medical supplies. If you would grab them for me, Lady Holt.”
“Grace,” I told him as I waddled up to the rear of the saddle and rummaged around in the many small bags that were attached there. “Being called by my last name makes me feel old.” I found a stiff metal box and turned to the king with the container in hand. “Is this it?”
“Just the one,” he assured me as he held out his hand. I hurried as fast as my sore legs would let me and handed him the box. He patted the spot on the log beside him. “Please sit here while I prepare the ointment.”
I eased myself into the moss-covered seat and watched him work a new kind of magic. He opened the tin and revealed the most basic set of medicine tools. There was a roll of bandages, tweezers, a thin knife, and a few tiny vials filled with clear liquids that sloshed around. The king set the box on the ground in front of him and laid out the bandages, a small cloth, and the vials. He drew off his coat, and I couldn’t help but notice as he winced. A faint stain now adorned the inside of his jacket as he draped it over the log on his other side.
The blood I had noticed earlier had crept out in all directions, creating a smudge almost a foot in all directions. He unbuttoned his blouse and eased the bloodied side off his body. The cloth came away with a little resistance, covered as it was in sticky blood.
My hand flew to my mouth as the wound was revealed to me. A terrible gash had been left by one of the long claws of the nethral. The wound ran up his side for four horribly deep inches. The edges of his open flesh were tattered and flapped about a little as his muscles moved.
A bitter smile slipped onto his lips. “It’s a little worse than I expected.”
I swallowed my horror and set a hand on his arm. “Should we get you to a doctor?”
“The doctor is at the inn,” he told me as he drew off the rest of his shirt and laid it beside his coat. “My supplies will keep the wound clean and closed. The doctor can close the wound when we get there.”
“Then maybe…maybe we should-”
