I focus only on healing the internal damage, leaving the outer wound visible.
My light eases most of the pain and the relief forces my eyes closed for a moment. I’ll have to be careful of pulling on the wound when I move around, but it’s numb for now.
Thoren watches me closely, following my lead. I know he has stopped drawing on his light when the blood flow from his wound lessens, but the outer wound remains visible through the tears in his shirt.
“This wolf will stay here, where he is free to move around,” Malak says, indicating Skirra. “As long as you do what I want, he will have all the meat he needs.”
At that, Malak plucks another apple from a low-lying branch, transforming the fruit.
He reaches for Skirra’s muzzle, his hands moving at a blur to retract it while leaving the collar in place.
Before Skirra can snap at Malak’s hand, the Blacksmith drops the slab of meat.
Skirra snatches it out the air.
“Vandasteel,” Malak says to Thoren. “You will go to the gate and wait for Vandawolf there. Pick some fruit along the way. It’s all edible. Vandawolf will join you shortly.”
Malak gives Thoren a hard stare. “I will know if you try to hide nearby to overhear our conversation.”
Thoren gives me an alarmed look.
“It’s okay,” I say, although I’m just as worried as he must be.
Malak waits for Thoren to disappear along the path before he turns to me.
He gets right to the point. “You killed two Blacksmiths without using your deep light.”
My wariness only increases, but I think better of correcting him. Technically, I only killed one. The first Blacksmith fell when my brother shot him with arrows.
Malak seems to read my mind. “Your brother’s arrows only succeeded because you held Abdiel down. Without your savagery, Abdiel would have been able to fight back. Your brother’s arrows would have hit nothing more than metal.”
Malak tips his chin at me, a strange gesture of respect. “There is a violence in your soul, Vandawolf, that exceeds even the most fearsome Einherjar chief I ever beheld.”
He steps closer. “You have the strength and skills to kill Blacksmiths, and I intend to put that to good use.”
I can’t stop myself from jolting.He wants me to kill Blacksmiths?
He’s studying me closely. “I trust you won’t have a problem with that.”
I’m frozen as I fight my inner thoughts.
Fuck, no, I don’t have a problem with ending Blacksmiths.
But the chances of Malak ordering me to kill Kalith are slim, and Kalith is the one I really want dead. Malak is bound to order me to kill only the Blacksmiths who may be against him.
Perhaps I should have a problem with that.
But I remind myself how I already failed to save my father.
I won’t fail to save Thoren. If it means killing Blacksmiths to keep my brother alive, then so be it.
“Tell me who and it will be done,” I say.
Malak smiles and steps back, his head held high. “I will tell you soon enough. In the meantime, go with your brother. Eat some fruit. Press the purple stone in the gate to leave this place. I will see you again tomorrow.”
Malak’s hand drops to Skirra’s collar, enforcing his order that Skirra stays here.
I back away, slowly at first and then quickly.
