“Is it safe for humans?” I can’t help but ask.
“Yes.” Quilliyn gives me the same look one might give a scared child.
Then Quilliyn’s eyes meet Zane’s, and for a moment, Zane stops breathing, his breath caught in his lungs.
And then he expels it as the monster who left reappears with something in a jar.
“Whoa. What the fuck is that?” Zane asks, his words slightly slurred from the way he’s holding his lip.
“A healing ointment,” Quilliyn replies patiently, and takes the jar, twisting it open. I immediately catch a strong, unfamiliar herbal scent as Quilliyn slips his finger into it.
Zane rears back, but Quilliyn is stronger than him and holds him tight against his body, forcing him to accept the help.
Using his thumb, he pushes Zane’s lip up and smears the ointment along all the places he’s bleeding. Zane’s clearly struggling against him, but Quilliyn manages his work without looking like he’s straining against Zane’s flailing arms.
When he’s done, Zane spits and sputters, glaring at Quilliyn as he attempts to wipe it off. It doesn’t work. The shine of the ointment is still there. And, as I watch with wide eyes, the bleeding immediately stops.
It seems the herb has clotted the cuts, and I can almost see it knitting him back together again.
“Holy shit,” I murmur. “Thanks.”
Quilliyn nods, but he does look a little annoyed that Zane isn’t even a little grateful. “There would have been less bleeding if he weren’t so stubborn. If it weren’t for the zitha, he’d have to get stitches.” He says the word stitches like they’re some barbaric treatment.
And, I suppose, to a species that has ointments like zitha, stitches would seem horrific.
“Yeah,” I say from behind a sigh. “I know.”
Zane is glowering at everyone now, his shirt slightly bloodstained, his cheeks red, too.
Quilliyn leans in toward Zane and speaks in a low, melodic tone. “Be careful, human. You are fragile.”
Zane freezes, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a breath, then stalks off to the lockers, murmuring to himself the entire time.
I think this might be his first interaction with a monster where one actually touched him, and it’s clear he’s struggling with the way it made him feel.
I wonder what their skin feels like, I think as I get back to my workout.
I know Zane needs some time to cool off. If I follow him now, he’ll most likely tell me off, and I’m honestly not in the mood. Not when I’m so anxious about my appointment at the New Beginnings Clinic tomorrow.
Zane can take a few minutes to breathe and chill out, and I can make sure I work off any excess anxiety.
And tomorrow, I’ll figure out what a Vyastil feels like.
If not their entire bodies, then at least their mouths.
two
EVEREST
Orientation for the clinic is in the building next door. It’s a small office space with rooms holding tiny desks.
The moment I sit down, a monster wearing a flowing linen shirt and matching pants with dark sea-green hair in a braid hands me a tablet and introduces himself as Eissa.
“You will watch a video explaining how the clinic works,” Eissa says. “After which, you will complete the rest of your consent forms. There will be a short quiz at the end.”
Shit. I didn’t realize there were going to be tests. I barely passed high school, and the only reason I did was because my coaches bribed the teachers to keep me on the football team.
“What happens if I fail?”
