She healed.
45
TEMPEST
Iwoke later that day to sunshine slanting across the room and Vexxion gone. He’d held me for hours, and while I was still shaky from what happened, I felt . . . cleansed? I wasn’t sure that was the right word for it, but I was going to cling to it for now. No need to explore other word choices, including distressed, shocked, or, strangely enough, guilty.
Why did I feel guilty for defending myself?
You did what you had to,Vexxion said, slipping into my mind.What we all have to do to survive.
I didn’t ask how I could get through this. How I’d deal with the fact that I’d directed the blow that killed another person. Not this time.
Vexxion had not stormed in to stand in front of me and save me.
Madrood hadn’t tossed me to the side to deal with the threaton his own.
I’d taken care of the problem myself.
And that felt good.
Lifting my hands, I stared at them, but they looked the same as they had earlier. Perhaps the only change would be viewed in my eyes, because my soul felt as if someone had taken a rake to it and clawed away before dragging the tines across my flesh one last time.
I left a bit of willwort for you in the glass beside the bed,he said.
I frowned at the milky liquid half filling a small glass. What’s willwort?
A plant. It helps with pain. It’ll make you sleepy, though, and in a high enough dose, it could be toxic, though this is nowhere enough for that.
Thank you.I didn’t want it, though. A little pain never bothered me.
I slid from the bed and stood beside it, marveling at how the outside of my body had nearly healed. I wasn’t going to examine the inside closely.
So when I entered the bathing chamber, finding a steaming tub, lit candles, and a perfect black and silver rose, I did not glance toward the mirror. Did not meet my own eyes.
I climbed into the tub and bathed before drying and donning the dress Vexxion had left on the chair.
As I was stuffing my feet into my shoes, Drask flew in to land on my shoulder, straining his head toward my face with something held in his beak.
“Ah, so nice of you to bring me a petal from one of Vexxion’s roses.” I took it from him. Someone once told methat when a crow brought petals, that meant they saw the person as a flock member. “I’m honored.” I walked carefully into the bedroom, my left leg barely hitching, and placed the petal on the table beside the bed. “I’ll press it later. Treasure it always.”
He rubbed his face against my cheek.
From the start, this bird’s delicate trust had bridged our different worlds. He understood me, and I understood him.
“As much as I want to take you, you can’t come with me this afternoon,” I said, gently lifting him off my shoulder and placing him on his perch. He pecked at the window to go outside. “I’ll let you out, but don’t come find me. Brenna said no bird.”
When he cawed, I lifted the windowpane, and he shot through the opening. I stared down, stunned at what I saw, though I wasn’t sure why I should feel that way.
Fae dressed in ornate, colorful clothing flitted onto the long walkway easing around the building, the bridge, and some even landed outside the front door, though I had to press my nose against the glass to see that. Excited chatter filled the air, rising even to this level of the castle.
More guests arriving for the wedding. I’d have to be careful when I moved through the halls.
I left the window open and flitted to the corridor outside Brenna’s room, giving the stoic guards a smile. One allowed me entrance, and I swept inside to find Reyla standing alone in the sitting area, beside the fireplace. She stared at the floor but heard me arrive. Her eyes—my friend’s wonderful, bright, full-of-life eyes—met mine.
I rushed over and smacked into her, nearly toppling us both to the floor.
“You’re still here,” I whispered by her ear.
