Erinna wanted to protest, but a glare from Asher had her reconsider. The message was clear; Erinna would not be leaving the infirmary until the cut was properly cared for.
“Please and thank you,” she mumbled as Serg prepared to treat his new, grumbling patient.
The antiseptic stung, and Erinna clenched her teeth to keep from flinching.
“You got lucky. There shouldn’t be need for stitches.” He put the swab of cotton stained with red into a small tray beside him. Flames erupted and singed it to ash. Erinna let out a gasp. The doctor let out a soft chuckle, grabbing a salve and bandage.
“It usually startles people the first time,” Serg said, cocking his head to the tray that had already stopped smoking. Erinna studied the piece as Serg continued his work with the ointment and gauze. It looked like an ordinary metal tray with a glaze that clouded its luster. She could barely see the mark in the four corners—at first, she swore they were scrapes from a chisel. No, on closer inspections they were some sort of marking she had never seen before.
“That…” started the doctor as he made good work of the wrappings on her head. “Is a Grace-imbued tool. Custom-made by Kane himself.”
Erinna’s brows shot up in surprise. “Grace? Kane?!”
Serg chuckled and leaned back in his chair. “Grace is another way to manipulate arcanum, common in the north. A thing closer to witchcraft.”
“It’s the same thing,” Asher grumbled from the corners of her mouth.
Serg’s eyes narrowed. “We are not having this debate again.”
Grace must be Talent, Erinna surmised but couldn’t deny her rising curiosity about the tray. They could call it whatever they wanted, but how did he make that tray?
“Kane, with the work of a northern smith, imbued the tray through these runes.” Serg pointed to the marks. “They light up whenever I put something in the center. A handy little burner, for sure.”
“It was hotter than normal fire,” Erinna noted.
Serg and Asher exchanged a brief look.
“It’s hellfire.”
Hellfire. Erinna’s head was starting to swim, but at least she could blame it on the wound.
“It should heal nicely, but try not to irritate it too much.” Serg inspected his work, his deep brown eyes traveling to land on Erinna’s mark. “Huh, reminds me almost of your blessings, stormsinger.”
Erinna snapped her attention to Asher.
“I’ll explain on our way to get you cleaned up.” Asher cocked her head, gesturing that it was time to go.
“I just bandaged her!” Serg cried. He had a point; it would be a waste of a clean dressing to submerge it in water.
Asher simply rolled her eyes. “Relax, the bandage will stay dry, I have control over two elements, remember.” She wiggled her fingers in emphasis. Erinna was still amazed to see a dual-wielding conjuror. It was more common for a mage to be proficient at one element, but for a mage to manipulate two at such a caliber, the academy would have happily made room for Asher in their ranks.
Erinna followed Asher back toward camp, but as they neared the crumbling stone arches, she turned onto a small footpath into the surrounding forest.
The walk was mercifully short and far easier than her earlier trek to the cemetery. They ducked under low-hanging branches, and soon Erinna caught the sound of running water. A gentle rushing that grew louder with each step.
Asher parted thick foliage to reveal a small pool of freshwater. A natural hot spring. Erinna gasped. All the hot springs on Tarth had been bought by private hospitality companies or by rich nobles to turn a profit on tourism to the island. This was untouched by their capitalist hands and beautiful. The pool itself was small, and a trickling brook fell down the side of a steep hill, supplying it with water. Erinna wondered where it came from, but not enough to think much more of it.
“Your bath has been drawn, M’lady.” Asher bowed with a dramatic wave of her arm.
Erinna laughed. “Please, you can call me Eri.”
There were sparks of joy in Asher’s golden irises. “Eri, I like it.”
“It’s what my friends call me.”
“Careful, or you might start liking us more than a shipwright should.”
Erinna laughed again. “You may start liking me more than a pirate should.”
