They share a look. And it’s not a look of giddy overwhelming love that means they can’t wait a minute longer to be married. There’s something they aren’t telling me.
“My doctors told me the cancer isn’t just back… it’s spread,” Shelly finally says, because I know Jeffrey can’t.
No.
I bring out the vial in my pocket so quick it jumps from my fingers and rolls across the table in a clattering tumble. The metal gleams in the sunlight.
“I brought—I brought…”
Shelly noticeably leans away. “Farren, you shouldn’t—”
“I’m not asking you to take it all in one dose. Just the smallest of flakes.”
Even Jeffrey shakes his head as he cups his palm over the vial like he can forget it exists if we don’t see it. “We’ve been talking. It’s too risky.”
Riskier than dying?
“I have doctors looking after me,” Shelly says like it’s a reassurance. Like I should sigh and say, yes, of course. No worries then. Let’s return to the ludicrous insinuation I have a crush on James Murphy. Let’s laugh and pretend the medical system is always fair.
“And have they given you even an ounce of silver?” I volley.
No one makes eye contact with me. They are both iron-crafters so I can surmise the answer for myself.
“Please,” I beg. “I’ll learn to craft better. I’ve never been taught how to make the tea, but Iknowthe flakes still work. Not as well, I understand that. But maybe I could teach myself—”
“Farren, it’s not you or your abilities. You know that. Those doctors though. They’ll run their tests and—”
“You can’t risk it,” I fill in. I glance between them before placing my hand over Jeffrey’s, over the hidden tube. “Then stop going to the doctors and just take this.”
Shelly slowly shakes her head. “They already have my charts. If I’m miraculously cured…” She takes a heavy breath like it’s a struggle. “I would never betray your family like that.”
My family who would be investigated, my family who could lose our house, our livelihood.
“Besides,” Shelly shrugs like she’s trying to lighten the mood. “Grandma doesn’t want me near any upper metal.”
Ugh, I want to scream. For a moment I forgot I’m fighting not just potential suspicious doctors, but deep-rooted misconceptions about metal. “But this can help you!”
Jeffrey studies me, hard and yet tearful. “Farren, you can’t fix everything. Some things are bigger than us.”
I know this well. It’s why I’ve pretended. It’s why we all have pretended. And if any of us stop, all our lives could be in jeopardy, especially Nity’s. The hollowness inside tenses, caving in on itself like a black hole.
Jeffrey slowly turns his hand under mine and presses the vial back into my palm. “This doesn’t mean there isn’t hope.”
“I beat it once before, remember?” Shelly lifts her chin and smiles. “I’ll just beat it again.”
I want to tell them I’m not nine years old anymore, like when she was first diagnosed. Mom doesn’t need to sit down and explain lymphoma to me. I can take the truth. But the reality is, I can’t.
I leave shortly after, only letting myself cry when Shelly can’t possibly hear. I glance down at the little tube. The black hole only grows. If taking this to ensure Shelly will be okay is so risky for Nity, then I’ve already messed up. Because I gave James Murphy the same type of vial four weeks ago to save his life. A vial filled with gold.
CHAPTER THIRTEENWHEN YOU’RE STUCK IN A THUNDERSTORM
JAMES
Over three weeks, I learn the basics of the sanctuary. Feeding times. Cleaning times. Exercising times. I at least see all fourteen dragons. Do everything but actually learn how to be a vet to these creatures. I don’t know what I was expecting. There is no easy route when dealing with dragons. Even though I lived with these creatures my whole life, I didn’t actually touch one until I was nine. There are precautions. Familiarity that leads to trust. That cultivated trust is how crafters bonded with dragons and developed crafting in the first place. It’s also how one advances to be able to craft new types of metal.
Now, to treat these creatures I must garner a different type of trust. My best chance of educating myself lies in Farren. Dr. Walsh disappears to handle clients far more often than I had thought, leaving Farren as the one to take every dragon’s vitals and implement basic checkups. But I don’t even have Farren’s trust, let alone the grumpy Rhinoridges or old majestic copper Sprinters. So, I sit back and watch, trying desperately not to irritate her further into hating me. Then maybe—hard maybe—I’ll be able to learn elementary veterinary care.
I do assist Jeffrey though. He trains all the domesticated dragons onthe sanctuary and feeds the wilder ones. Shelly hangs out with us as we work, sitting in a nest of hay and blankets. I haven’t asked, but I know illness when I see it. I don’t think Jeffrey dotes on her just because she’s sick though. Something about the way he leans over her and asks if she’s okay makes me think this is their typical dynamic.
