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“You didn’t tell me you were a healer,” I said. I tried not to make it sound like an accusation.
“It’s part of my work here,” he replied.
Of course it was. Apparently, that hadn’t been worth mentioning when he explained we would live separate lives. I couldn’t bring myself to be angry with him, not right now.
“The draught… It’s of your own making?”
Eryx nodded. “In Asphodelia, much of our treatment follows your own ways. We use death energy, not life magic. But sometimes, complementary treatment is needed. That’s where I come in.”
It was fascinating. I’d met herbalists and potioneers who did similar work in the Korinos Wilds, but never one of such skill.
“You want to help more people, don’t you?” I asked. “That’s why you agreed to a bond you don’t want.”
Eryx returned the bottle to its shelf. For a moment, I thought he meant to leave my question unanswered, and my fingers tightened around the cloth.
Then he turned his covered face toward me. “I agreed because it was the best way for me as a healer, yes,” he replied. “But that doesn’t make it right for you. I haven’t forgotten, Thalia.”
He began putting the remaining instruments away. Yesterday, those words would have been enough to send me storming from the room.
Now I could hear Damon chuckle at something Kallisto said.
It was a weak laugh, scarcely more than a breath, but it was there. Eryx paused with a folded cloth in his hand, looking toward the doorway.
I stayed beside the table and listened with him. For once, I didn’t need to find something to say to make the silence bearable.
6
An Unwanted Visit
Eryx
A few weeks later
Kallisto was arguing with Bion about the bread when I left the workroom. He’d cut into the loaf before she brought the stew out, and apparently that was a grave insult. Kallisto was very particular about the way we ate dinner.
The scent of rosemary drifted up the stairs. I slowed at the doorway to listen to the argument.
“There’s enough for everyone,” Bion insisted. “I haven’t eaten the whole thing.”
“You would have, if I hadn’t been here. Carry what’s left to the table. Damon, leave that pot. I can manage it myself.”
Damon laughed and obeyed, rushing into the dining hall without spotting me. A few weeks ago, he’d scarcely been able to draw breath. Now he and Kallisto argued over who should carry supper. They’d both stayed after Damon’s recovery, and between them they’d made it difficult to find a quiet corner of Petrion. At one point, I’d stopped looking.
At first, I’d joined them at dinner to discuss Damon’s recovery with Thalia. Those discussions had ended days ago. Tonight, I was simply staying for the company.
“You’re late,” Thalia remarked as I entered the dining hall. “Kallisto was going to send me after you.”
I pulled out my chair, pleased by the accusation. She’d noticed I wasn’t there, though I’d only been gone a few minutes.
“I was putting the medicines away. You left a lot of them out.”
“Because you said you weren’t finished.” Her voice held a note of teasing, and I smiled before I sat down. “Next time, I’ll bring you up with me.”
Thalia laughed, and I leaned back in my chair, content to listen. I’d refused her something this simple when she first arrived. Now I resented all the time I’d wasted being stubborn.
I still hadn’t claimed her as my own. I didn’t know if it was right. But every day spent by her side felt like a gift.
Kallisto and Bion entered the dining hall, carrying our meal. She gave me an approving nod. “You’re here, Ambassador. Good. At least someone knows how to listen to me.”
