‘Then what exactly would you be looking for?’ I ask archly.
He swallows hard and that same pink colouring as before dusts his cheeks. I like it. It’s a nice contrast to that burly, broad side of him.
Rather than flirt with him and tease him further, I laugh at him, letting him off the hook. ‘It’s fine,’ I say, shifting out of his grip. ‘I think I have some salve in my bag. I can sort it.’
‘There are healers on hand for things like that.’
‘I can sort it,’ I repeat, more comfortable with doing what I can myself.
I reach into my bag and pull out a series of vials. Some are from Rula’s other suppliers, but most of them are my own concoctions. When I wasn’t trying to stop Kay from crying last night and this morning, I was packing up as much as I could. Anything I couldn’t make, I traded for. It’s officially the most well-stocked my stores have been since I moved into the slums. I’ve even got a small gas stove, a copper pan, and a pestle and mortar in my bag, just in case I need to whip up more of something.
‘Bathroom through here?’ I nod towards a door.
‘Yeah,’ he says.
‘Great. I’ll just be a minute.’
I wonder if perhaps he’ll leave while I’m in the bathroom, but there are no footsteps on the creaking stairs as I pull down my trousers and look at the wound, only to wince. It’s red and angry, but not half as bad as it was the first time, which is interesting. Did her powers get weaker because it wasn’t the first of my injuries she reopened, or because it was the furthest back? It’s a question I stow away for later as I slather the salve over my pained skin.
I apply it liberally, hoping I’ll be able to find more ingredients in the palace if I need them. Then I pull my trousers back on, already benefitting from the cooling effect.
Back in the bedroom, Jonas is pulling items out of the wardrobe and shoving them into his bag.
‘What’s your power?’ I ask, the question leaving my mouth before I can stop it. It’s rude to ask so plainly, but instead of apologising for it, I double down, unable to drop it now that I’ve raised it a second time. ‘You didn’t have it when I … when we left. I know you’re not a healer, so what is it? Can you show me?’
He twists around to look at me, still stuffing the bag. His brow crinkles. ‘It’s not something you want to see.’
‘How about I be the judge of that?’ I ask archly.
Rather than respond, he bites down on his bottom lip and I’m struck by an urge to move closer, maybe move my fingers in lazy circles across his skin, the way he did with me only a moment ago. It’s the longest silence we’ve shared, and I’m discovering I’m not great at silences. Not around Jonas, anyway.
‘It’s not very pleasant,’ he says finally.
‘For you?’
‘For the person I do it to.’
‘So it’s an offensive power? A fire wielder? No, you’d be able to show me that without having to do anything to me. So is it something like Zara’s power?’
He releases a single, chesty laugh. ‘No. It’s not a power you’re going to guess. And it’s not painful, more … disorienting.’
I take a step past him and take a seat on the bed. ‘Why don’t you stop talking in riddles and just show me?’
He presses his lips tightly together. I can see he’s not keen on the idea, but it’s not as though I’m going to use it against him. The truth is, the only person I’d even consider making an alliance with is him, and so it would really help me to know what I’ll be working with.
‘Please,’ I say softly.
When he lets out a low sigh, I know I’ve persuaded him. He drops onto the bed next to me before he speaks. ‘I need you to take my hand.’
I try to keep the surprise off my face. ‘You have to be touching the person for it to work?’ In terms of powers, requiring touch is generally not a good sign. I wonder if it’s some kind of mind-reading? If that’s the case, Iwant to back out now. Either that or I quickly need to erase the dirty thoughts I’ve already had about him before he can see them.
Mind-reading or not, I can’t imagine a power that needs touch will be much use in a tournament when the other participants want you unconscious or dead. Being close enough to hold them means you’re definitely close enough for them to stick a sword through you.
‘No, it doesn’t need touch to work. You’re not taking my hand for me.’ His voice is soft. ‘It’s for you. Like I said, it can be disorienting.’
Not entirely sure I’m making the smartest decision, I take his hand.
‘Wh—?’ Before I can finish the word, I know exactly why I needed to hold him.
