My father frowned, reaching down to run a finger over the healed scar on his abdomen. “Do we owe him coin?”
I shook my head. “He goes to some fancy magic school. Needed the healing to pass his class. It was free.”
My father pulled up a chair and sat down, looking at me with confusion as he ran a hand through his dark hair. “You went to The Gilded City and found a healer to heal me for free?” His voice cracked and a few tears leaked from his eyes, but he wiped at them quickly. My father didn’t show a lot of emotion usually, he was a toughie, but tonight’s near-death experience had clearly gotten to him. I reached out with my gloved hand and squeezed his. “I did, and Dad, there is one more thing.”
He squeezed my hand through the glove and looked up at me. “What is it, dear?”
I swallowed hard and looked at the back room where Ariyon slept. “During the healing, Ariyon accidently grabbed my bare hand with his.”
My father hissed. “Are you okay? Should I draw you a cool bath?”
He knew my skin felt like it was on fire for hours after I was touched, but I shook my head. “It…didn’t hurt.”
He dropped my hand, his face falling. “What do you mean?”
My throat tightened. “It…felt like what I would expect was…normal?”
That word. One word that I had never understood fully until now. Normal. It felt normal. Maybe I could be normal.
“Do you think it’s because he is a healer?” my father asked. “You know I tried to take you to a healer when you were a small child, but they said there was nothing they could do.”
I did know that story. A healer had passed through town when I was a bitty toddler and my father begged her to look me over to see what could be done. The entire village had offered to give her something of value. But she’d waved a hand over my face and told him it was permanent. Who I was. I was born this way. She’d said there was nothing to take away. Cursed in my birth mother’s womb, I would never be healed.
“Maybe I can’t be healed, but maybe healers can touch me without pain?” I looked at him with hope and he started to laugh as complete, unbridled joy lit up his face. “That would be something! Are you sure?”
I gave him awhat do you thinklook, and he nodded. “Does he know about the curse?”
I shook my head.
“Good. Go get some rest, and in a few hours, I’ll make breakfast and you can casually hand him something and make sure your fingers touch.”
I swallowed hard, my heart feeling like it might leap out of my chest and onto the floor at the thought. “What if it hurts?” I asked.
“What if it doesn’t?” he countered, and an unreal amount of hope bloomed in my chest.
What if it didn’t hurt?
Reaching out, he grasped my gloved hand and squeezed. “You never knew my wife, but she brought so much joy to my life that some nights I still lie awake, desperate at the thought that you will never experience that kind of love.”
I was suddenly overcome with emotion, covering my mouth to muffle a sob that tried to break free. It was the most unexpected and raw thing he’d ever said to me.
My father squeezed my hand again, a hard squeeze that was our version of a deep hug. “Fallon, if you have a chance to live a normal life, to be loved, to marry and have a family…we have to know.”
I nodded. “All right.”
My father stood. “Get some rest.”
“What about you?” I asked.
He waved me off. “I can’t sleep. I just escaped death. I’ll be out here if you need me.”
“Okay. Oh, by the way, his horse is tied up outside. Do you have oats and water for him?”
Dad stood, peeking out the front flap of our hut before looking back at me, wide-eyed. “Thereisa horse there.”
I nodded, smiling. “Rode here from The Gilded City on horseback with a healer.”
“I should probably punish you for that. Seems like you broke a lot of rules. But I can’t bring myself to.”
