I take her mangled wrists gently into my lap, cringing inwardly. I’ve seen plenty of injuries in my lifetime, most gruesome enough that they could never be repaired, but these—these are the mark of enslavement. The evil remnant of subjugation. Of stealing someone’s life from them. They are raw and swollen and she should never forget it is me who first put them there. I certainly won’t.
A wave of nausea roils through me. It’s amazing, really. Every time I think I’m as deep into the Darkness as I can fall, I manage to dig deeper. I press my eyes closed until the thought recedes.
I dip a clean rag into the stream and begin to gently dab Mirren’s wrists. She sucks in a soft, pained breath and my gaze flicks to the way her teeth worry at her plump bottom lip. Suddenly, my mind is a confused toiling of heat and shame. I force my eyes back to the task at hand.
“Who are you trying to find?”
Mirren doesn’t respond, only fixes me with a withering stare. I move to her other wrist, the one that she broke on her first night outside the Boundary. Her skin is warm and soft against mine and I remember how it felt to have my entire body pressed against hers. Soft and yielding, like falling into a warm bath. “My guess is your father.”
Her mouth drops open and she inhales sharply, her shock overruling her determination not to speak with me. “How did you—"
I shrug, dipping my fingers into the herbal paste. “If you had parents in Similis, they never would have let you run off into the Dark World by yourself. And I’ve seen enough people Outcast to know it’s almost always adults. Rarely children.” I hold up my fingers. “This is going to sting for a moment, but it will ease the pain and prevent infection.” I glance up at her to be sure she understands. Her face is still coated in dried blood, and I have the absurd urge to take the cloth and run it over her skin until it shines like moonlight once more.
She hisses through her teeth, but I make quick work of it as I wrap her wrists in bandages. “So, the question is why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why did you break out of Similis and run into the Dark World? No one has been Outcast recently, so it stands to reason your parents were banished some time ago. So, I suppose my question is, whynow?”
Her tongue darts across her lips as she determines how much to tell me. “My…my brother is ill. Very ill. I need my parents for a donation to save his life.”
“Like an organ donation?”
She nods and I let out a hearty laugh that startles us both. “Ha! And you accusedmeof being after your organs! When, really, you’re the villainous harvester of peoples’ insides.” I wiggle my eyebrows and she rolls her eyes ruefully.
Her lips press together as if she is trying not to smile, and I wonder what it would look like if she did. Or what her laugh sounds like. In our time together, I’ve never seen so much as an inkling of either. Not that she’s had much reason to.
Focus.
I try, but it’s becoming difficult. The cave has turned a rosy shade of pink that sparkles where I know shadows should be. I turn from Mirren and cup my hands in the stream, gulping down a few greedy sips and splashing the rest across my face. The icy temperature shocks my system, and the cave returns to its normal hue once more.
“Doesn’t…” my voice is hoarse. I’m fading quicker than I thought. I clear my throat and try again. “Doesn’t Similis have unparalleled medical care? Isn’t that what the whole Binding ceremony is for? To prevent these kinds of things?”
At my mention of the Binding ceremony, Mirren’s face flames. I would give anything to know why, but I don’t have the strength to press her. Now that I’ve treated Mirren’s injuries, I need to tend to my own. I gather supplies from the cavern wall, a thick needle and sturdy thread. Some alcohol and a few strips of linen. Tremors rock my hand as I attempt to thread the needle. One, two, five tries and it finally goes through. I want to cry out in victory, but the worst is yet to come. I’ve stitched myself enough times to know that keeping from passing out is the most trying part.
I rip the filthy sleeve of my shirt open and a drunken giggle spills from my lips as the blush on Mirren’s cheeks grows deeper. “See something you like, Lemming?”
“I don’t see anything,” she hisses indignantly, turning her red face from me.
I splash some of the alcohol over my shoulder wound with a snarl and then tip some down the back of my throat. It burns in both places, but I relish the pain because it’s all that keeps me conscious. I grind my teeth roughly and shove the needle in.
“The Healer said it’s an anomaly. That it happens sometimes and usually they’re able to treat it with parental donation, but Easton and I…we don’t have any parents.”
I focus on her voice as I pull the needle out and push it back in. On the way her tongue rolls the sharp edges of some words and soothes the hard consonants of others.
“They wanted me to give his things back to the community. Like he’s already dead,” her voice breaks, “as if he never existed at all. And I couldn’t—I can’t let them do that. I won’t.” The pure will in her voice warms me to my core. No wonder she’s never cowed in fear before me; she has already learned that there are far scarier things in life than dying.
Halfway. I’m almost halfway done. Fresh blood streams from the wound once more and I wonder distantly how much more can possibly be left inside me. It’s not the most I’ve ever bled, but I’ve never made it this far consciously either. The wound is two to three inches, and I can only hope the soldier’s blade didn’t damage anything more than muscle. I’m lucky it didn’t pass all the way through, or I’d have passed out long before this.
“I will not be collecting your life debt, Shaw.”
I meet her fevered stare. Her eyes are so green. It was the first thing I noticed about her in the daylight, for all the wrong reasons. But now, with the entranced haze of blood loss lingering about me, I think I notice them for the right ones.
“But Easton will. I will collect it on his behalf.”
I nod, because it’s all I can manage. The needle is halfway between out and in and for a moment, I can’t remember which way it’s supposed to be going. Darkness blurs the edges of my vision.
“Shivhai said you killed his brother.”
