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“I, uh, was going for the opposite of him.”
His hum sounded as if he didn’t quite believe me. Still, I gave him credit; he hadn’t outright laughed.
“How does alchemy definehumility? Empathy? Compassion? Maybe your idea and the result are different.”
I didn’t answer him because I couldn’t.
He blew out. “Can you at least guarantee the symbols will give me more control?”
The wind chose that moment to strengthen, and I swayed at the assault and brushed away the hair that almost blinded me. “Guarantee? No. I can only take a very educated guess, and I think...”And pray.“They won’t harm you.”
He nodded then walked to the waist-high wall that guarded the opposite edge and stood there, gazing outward.
I let him be. The decision, the stitching, it wasn’t anything simple.
When he walked back, his face looked grim.
“Zara, I don’t have guarantees either. I feel him pushing. I don’t know how long I have. Weeks? Minutes? I mean, I’m fighting... But I need help.” The muscle in his jaw ticked. “Now. We do it now.”
“Now?” My brows rose. That’d take some cooperation from Neme and some ugliness I hadn’t wished to face, yet.
He nodded.
“Okay. Okay.” I didn’t have the C’s bag. I looked about, the inside of my stomach fluttering. “Okay. Sit with your back to the wall, out of the wind. I need your arm steady.”
And mine.
I settled next to him and pulled out the knife, turning the blade. I’d slashed and shot at the creatures in battle, but this was different. I should call it what it was—the murder of a faery.
Neme knew. The wolf materialized near the door that led into the stairwell. She trotted over, and her many symbols played tricks with my vision and seemed to shift and crawl. When I could decipher those, I figured I’d truly be a stitcher.
The red wolf’s two occupants surfaced among her fur, glowing brightly even in the sunlight.
“Neme...” Telling the wolf seemed an awful ask. Would she even understand? “I need one of your little creatures, to stitch Val.”
With me seated, our gazes were level with each other. The wolf’s red eyes flowed with many shades of red. If she wanted to tear out my throat, she could strike before anyone could stop her.
The wolf turned her head and nuzzled her two friends, then she picked one up by the scruff, with her front teeth, and brought it around to deposit at my feet. Or rather at my boots.
It seemed the wolf’s role was to help the C when asked.
“I guess that faery is getting in me one way or another.” Val grimaced. “Stitching is better than eating.”
“You tried to eat a faery?”
“Neme tried tofeedme a faery.”
Curious. Maybe I and the wolf had the same idea; I hoped the alchemy would be stronger.
I paused in my threading of faery limb into the knife’s hole at the tip.
The wee thing wriggled but had a stoic look on its face.Crap.
My lip chose that moment to tremble, and tears swelled. “These creatures don’t feel pain like we do.” My voice was hoarse. “So...it won’t feel this, much, if at all.”
“Zara.”
I sniffed.
