Breath of Winter, A (5 page)

He shifted from one foot to the other, clearing his throat before looking at me. “The belief that I could spend months underground for the right price, under the right circumstances, has met the reality.”

“Don’t do this to me.” I groaned. “Not again.”

“I could say the same to you.” His grip tightened. “You know how I feel about places like this.”

“If we followed Hishima into his crystal caverns, then we can stand guard over Henri’s burrow.” It was an unfair comparison. I knew that when I made it. The caverns had been open-ended. Every so often, a breeze ruffled your hair or a shaft of sunlight comforted you that the surface was near. There were no such signs here, no such surety. Bleak as this option was for him, alternatives were grimmer.

His sigh ruffled thick whiskers over his lips that he should have trimmed weeks ago.

“You’ve made it this far.” I patted his coarse cheek. “You can do this. I know you can.”

I hoped my smile withstood his inspection. I had already exhausted my supply of more convincing ones.

“For you,” he said. “Gods only know what would happen if I let you out of my sight.”

I chuckled. He was probably right. “That’s the spirit.”

Ahead of us, Tau and Kaleb bore to the right. Braden and Malik kept straight. A few steps later, they paused to ease Fynn through one doorway of many in this hall, into what must be the sick ward.

“Wait here,” Braden ordered.

Ghedi busied himself examining the wall. “What do you think it’s all made of?”

I said the first thing that came to mind. “Dirt.”

“Clay tiles laid over a silk frame,” Henri answered. “I’ll pass your compliments to our artisans.”

I startled. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

He stepped closer, into a pool of light. “Would it have mattered if you had?”

“Probably not,” I answered truthfully. “Finished already?”

“I did promise to make it quick.”

“Males often do.”

Henri chuckled softly while sidestepping us, and I decided I liked the sound.

I kicked Ghedi’s hip, urging him to follow.

“Wait here.” Henri put a finger to my lips. “No—don’t argue. I need room to work.”

I bit his pointer. His breath caught when my teeth pierced his skin. I liked the sound of that too.

Without another word, the good doctor left us to amuse ourselves in the hall.

Ghedi and I exchanged a glance.

“Don’t go there,” he said quietly.

“He’s Araneidae royalty.” Second born son or not. “I’m not going anywhere.”

We stood in comfortable silence, listening as Henri’s muffled voice droned while he questioned Fynn. Without Ghedi acting as a translator, which left me as the odd female out, I assumed they were of the
yes
or
no
variety. That was a good thing if that meant Fynn was cognizant enough for answers.

The monotony had almost lulled me to sleep when the door opened and Henri motioned to us.

“Enter if you like.” He studied me while drying his hands with a rag. “You look tired.”

Ghedi volunteered, “I am.”

My cheeks burned as though I had been chewing hot coals.

He nudged Henri aside, his silent laughter jarring my shoulder. “My arms could use a rest.”

My treacherous brother swept me into the room, plopping me into a chair angled toward the bed. Henri placed a stool at my feet and set a pillow atop it before gently lifting my leg. He arranged my calf on the cushion he’d made for me and left my foot dangling. Having my ankle elevated helped with the throbbing pain that had worsened the longer Ghedi carried me, but my sigh of relief was short-lived.

Henri straightened with a promise. “I’ll tend to you in a minute.”

“I can wait.” I’d broken my share of bones as a child. I knew what misery lay ahead. I could wait quite happily for my turn.

Ghedi caught Henri’s arm. “Shouldn’t you examine her wound now that Fynn’s stabilized?”

Henri surprised us both by breaking the hold with one precise twist of his arm. “His condition is more serious than I first suspected. If you can stay there and keep still, I’ll resume his examination.”

He crossed the room to a painted cupboard and withdrew a gleaming tray of silver instruments.

Ghedi positioned himself by my chair. “If he stuck his nose any higher, he’d drown in the rain.”

“Let him work.” I peeled the cap off my head and tousled my hair. Ghedi shook his head at me. His hair was longer than mine now. I didn’t envy him as I tamed the sweaty spikes against my scalp.

He leaned down, even with my ear. “How are you—?”

“Not another word.” I shoved him. “I’m fine.”

He righted himself. “You’d say that if an ursus was mauling you.”

I grimaced. “I’m not that bad.”

His eyebrows climbed.

My brow lowered. “Why don’t you see to our ursus? The stables are less confining than this.”

Ghedi’s restlessness frazzled my already sensitive nerves.

“This is where I’m needed.” He planted his feet wide apart. “The ursus can wait.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.” Turning my attention to Henri’s methodical inspection of Fynn’s skull, I was about to ask what caused the frown tugging at his mouth when my lips became too stiff to bend, words too difficult to form. My head lolled, too heavy for me to hold upright.

I plummeted into a dreamy state where even Ghedi’s nattering no longer annoyed me. He cupped my good shoulder while he ripped off my coat with the other.

I didn’t mind. It didn’t hurt. Not anymore.

If I focused on his lips, I could read the tumble of words spewing from his mouth:
Get over here now. I don’t give two damns about the bump on Fynn’s head. Help Zuri. What’s the matter with her?

Henri fell to his knees at my side and pressed two fingers against my pulse. The shock of his finger probing my wound made me strangle on a whimper.

“Zuri?” He cupped my face and tilted my head back. “Can you hear me? Zuri?”

His eyes were mesmerizing up close. Too bad the closer he got, the louder he became.

I wanted to shout I wasn’t in need of saving, that I was tired, that if they would only let me rest, I would be fine. But the harder I struggled to surface, the more impossible it became to keep my eyes open. Lost in the abyss, I was drowning. The faster I sank, the fiercer I fought its drugging surrender.

Black waters closed over my head. All the air in my lungs expelled on a terrified scream.

Chapter Three

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“Hmm?”

Warm hands smoothed over my skin, a perfect counterpoint to the frigid weight encasing my leg.
Only a dream.
I snuggled deeper beneath my blanket, but the same numbing chill penetrated my shoulder.

“I took the liberty of setting your ankle while you slept.”

My eyes flipped open. I lay in a room I had never seen before with Henri running his hands over my leg. “Am I still dreaming?” No. Dream Henri wouldn’t have stopped at my knee. “Where am I?” Fabric slid off my shoulder when I shifted. “What is this—a dressing gown? Where are my clothes?”

“You are in the room across from Fynn’s.” Henri wiped his forehead with his wrist. He sat on a stool pulled near the foot of the bed. His hands were covered in white paste, and strips of fabric hung over his thigh. He tapped my kneecap, leaving a white fingerprint. “Straighten this leg and hold still. As to your attire, yes, it is a dressing gown. Your clothes were ruined. I had to cut you out of them.”

“Better you than my brothers,” I supposed. “How long was I out?”

“The better part of a day.” He chose a strip, soaked it in the solution at his feet then applied it.

“What are you doing?” I wiggled my toes. They were the only unbound part of my lower leg.

“I’m making a cast to support your ankle.” He caressed me slowly from my knee to my heel, not that I felt it. “Several rows of silk were used in its construction. It must be removed—by me—with a specialized saw. No one else can cut it, so don’t try and remove it by yourself when it starts itching.”

“Araneidae silk, I presume?” Did they keep skeins of it lying around for such purposes?

He lifted a mottled hand. Thread hung from his pointer. “It was the last time I checked.”

“You’ll have to remove it.” My stomach pitched. “I can’t afford that.”

“It’s done, and undoing it would be pointless.” He glanced up. “We’ll discuss payment later.”

I nodded, feeling more nauseous than grateful. “You used your own silk.”

Why that struck me as scandalous, I couldn’t say. Perhaps because he was Araneidae royalty. Or perhaps because his silk, even a few strands, would fetch such a handsome price in the black market stalls in Cathis, I could sell my cast and finance my brothers and my early retirement as mercenaries. All of a sudden, my leg itched miserably. I wanted to scratch off plaster in chunks and fling it at him.

I was used to being bought. This felt like something more. It felt like pity. Or worse, kindness.

I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think I liked either.

He paused to study me. “Don’t you use your silk in your trade?”

“Of course I do.” I wove as fine a net as any of my kin. “But I don’t spin Araneidae silk.”

Their silk was pearlescent and sumptuous. Rumor had it, each strand was unbreakable. With my head clearing, I remembered Henri had mentioned the tunnels were reinforced with silk. No wonder their nest was touted as the deepest and most extensive underground living space ever constructed.

“You think I ought to only spin silk when there is profit to be made?” His slight grin reappeared.

“I didn’t consider how common its use is for you.” I slumped against my pillows and appraised him. “It would be wasteful not to use the gifts the gods gave you. It’s what my clan does. I shouldn’t have expected less from yours.” A yawn stretched my jaw. “Where are my brothers? How is Fynn?”

“He woke before you.” At my look, he went on to say, “He had a concussion. As to why he was slow to rouse, I believe blood loss was the culprit. Head wounds bleed profusely, and circumstances kept you from bandaging him properly. He required stitches, but not as many as you. Malik is with him now. Tau and Kaleb are in my laboratory, guarding your ward. Ghedi went to eat. He hasn’t left your side since you blacked out, so I assured him that I would remain here with you until his return.”

“That was kind of you,” I ventured.

“I had a cast to finish.” He took a damp rag and cleaned the starchy splatter from my knee, then scrubbed the dried clumps from his hands and pants. “There was no sense in us both going hungry.”

“Oh.” I plucked at my covers.

“Did I say something wrong?” He began tidying his work area.

“Does bedside service cost more?” I ignored his question. “I doubt I can afford your attention.”

“Be that as it may…” his gaze held mine, “…you have it.”

“I…” I struggled for the right words, settling on, “Thank you.”

He accepted my gratitude with an obliging nod. “How is your shoulder?”

“Good.” I rotated the joint and felt only mild discomfort. “Shouldn’t I be in more pain?”

He stopped with his arms full of implements. “I can arrange for you to be if you prefer it.”

“Um, no.” Battered as I knew I must be, I marveled at how well I felt. “I was simply curious.”

“I dabble in herbology.” He rolled a shoulder. “Honestly, I’m more herbologist than physician.”

What could I say to that? “Your skills seem wasted on plants.”

“I don’t think so.” He set his supplies in a box by the door, tossing the dirty rag on top. “There’s only so much a physician can do without medicine, wouldn’t you agree? Where does he get herbs for his concoctions? From a herbologist. A physician’s days are consumed by patients. They have no time to cultivate herbs. Without studies and trials, there can be no advances in the medical field. If I had a—” Red crept from his cheeks into his hairline. “All this talk must bore someone like yourself.”

He reclaimed his seat, resting his elbows on his knees while he examined his work.

I was tempted to thump his skull. If he had been one of my brothers, I would have.

“I might have been raised by simple river folk,” I said, “but that doesn’t mean I am simple.”

His cool hand clasped mine. “I meant no insult, Zuri. You’ve seen places I’ve only read about in textbooks.” He straightened. “What you must have seen…where you might have been…I envy you.”

“With such fine brothers as she has, who wouldn’t envy her?” Ghedi appeared with a tray in his hands. Sweeping Henri aside, he approached the bed. “Well, how is the patient? She looks…flushed. Is her fever coming back? You said her…” His knuckles whitened where he gripped the tray. “I see.”

He slapped the tray down hard enough the silverware jingled.

I flinched.

Henri ignored Ghedi and headed for the door.

“The swelling in her shoulder has gone down.” Henri nudged his box into the hall with his foot. “When I return this afternoon, I’ll check her stitches. The cast is done but must harden. That should take the rest of today. She must stay off her ankle for four weeks. At that point, I’ll reassess.” Henri snapped his fingers. “Oh. I gave her herbs for pain after you left. I brewed them into her tea. There’s more in the kettle there. Give her a half cup every four hours. More than that causes stomach upset.”