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“I have a theory.” Ruskin lowers his tone. “It’s possible that although she only inscribed a part of her name on the stone, that was enough to give her some of the claim of a High Monarch over the kingdom. Not enough to command it like I can, but enough to allow her to pass by many of the court’s protections, and to lift the banishment magic long before it’s normal expiration.”
They hush as footsteps indicate someone’s entered the room. I feel cool, gentle hands on my forehead and open my eyes to see the female healer looking down on me. My body is exquisitely pain-free, I realize. No stinging leg or throbbing hand. I’d almost forgotten how it feels.
“Well done,” the healer says, looking pleased at my consciousness. “You can get up now.”
I sit up, and see I’m in Ruskin’s room, on his bed. My eyes search him out and find him standing near the door by Halima and Destan. When my gaze lands on him he looks radiant, like the sight of me sitting here is all he could ask for. He crosses the room to me, sitting by my side and putting a hand to my chin.
“How do you feel?”
“Amazingly fine,” I say. I push back the blanket and lift my sleeve to see a bare, perfectly healthy arm.
“That came out very nicely,” the healer says. “You have a knack for regrowing skin.”
“Um, thanks?” I say, not sure what the correct response might be.
“That, however…” The healer shakes their head when she points to my left ring finger. The stump looks neat, all closed up, with a pink shine to the new flesh. “I’m afraid we couldn’t locate your finger to reattach it.”
I widen my eyes. “You can do that?”
“Often, if we still have the part in question.” The healer looks disappointed in herself, like she’s left a job half-done.
“Don’t worry about it. Cebba threw it in the fire.”
Ruskin’s eyes flare, and Destan makes a horrified noise.
“She always was a bitch,” he says.
“I know, that’s why I bit her.”
As the healer bows her way out, Ruskin eyes me with what I think might be admiration and more than a touch of wariness. I guess he’s realizing now that I was responsible for the mess of Cebba’s face.
Destan simply releases a cackle of disbelief.
“Ha! Oh my, Eleanor. You’re practically feral,” he says fondly.
“It was resourceful,” Halima says in her serious tone, almost like she’s defending me, and I know it’s the closest I’ll get to a compliment from her.
“Thanks, Hal.”
She purses her lips at the nickname but doesn’t say anything.
“Enough chatting,” Ruskin says to the pair. “She needs rest now.”
I warm to hear the protective note in his voice.
“Me too, in fact. Nearly dying will do that to a man.”
Destan and Halima oblige, the former waving to me as he goes. When we’re alone, Ruskin wastes no time in throwing himself down on the bed beside me. I slide back down the mattress, nuzzling myself into him, enjoying the closeness as he wraps an arm around me, pulling me in tight. It feels totally right, and I want to freeze this moment in time where I’m perfectly nestled in the safety of him and his affection.
And yet my brain never sleeps, and things still nag at me. I lace my fingers through Ruskin’s, trying to decide which of my million questions I want to ask first.
“Do you see now, that this magic between me and gold is real? I freed myself with it at the lodge, and it’s how I managed that trick with sword. I’d never have been able to even carry it otherwise.”
Ruskin smiles gently, but I think I see his eyes tighten just a fraction.
“It’s true, you have power, though I don’t claim to fully understand it.”
I nod, pleased at his acknowledgement. “The more I use it, the more I can do. It’s like my metallurgy, my experiments, were just a stepping stone, and this was waiting for me all along. Do you think that’s possible?”
