Uriah looked up at them with tired hazel eyes, lashes thick and dark against his flushed cheeks. A mop of chestnut hair curled damply around his ears. He gave a small, apologetic smile before answering in a voice rough with exhaustion. “My cough came back. I’ve been keeping Nic up all night.”
As if on cue, he was overtaken by a violent fit of coughing, doubling over with a wheeze that made Collin wince.
The brothers, Nic and Uriah of Stargazer Creek, were longtime friends who might as well have been family. Though the two shared the same dark hair and broad build, Uriah always struck Collin as softer somehow. Gentler. He was the quieter ofthe pair, and lately, it felt like the weight of sickness was always hanging on him.
"Nic has to sleep in the sitting room because Uriah can’t stop coughing," River added. "Their mother asked Doctor Fol to give Uriah a much stronger treatment, but Fol is worried that the potent concoction will do more harm than good."
Uriah nodded vigorously. "Yes, the stronger the treatment, the worse I seem to feel everywhere else.”
Collin smiled encouragingly. “Well, look at you—milking a cough for a private room and all the nurses at your beckon call. Remind me to fake my own death next week just to keep up.”
River rushed Collin away while Aries remained with Uriah, cheering him with the latest news from the fish market.
When they reached the far end of the hall, River gestured to a chair. He circled briskly to the other side of the table, tugged open a curtained window to let in the afternoon light, and cracked open a large medical box. Its hinges groaned like warning bells, and Collin stiffened.
River gently unwound the blood-soaked fabric from Collin’s hand, fingers deft but cautious. He leaned in to examine the wound, his brow already furrowing.
Collin couldn’t hold back a wince as the congealed blood and cloth was peeled away from his open wound. "So, doctor, will I lose the hand?"
River gazed thoughtfully at his patient’s injury. “I do believe I can save your hand, Collin. It’s your lucky day! If Charlie were here, he would take a saw to you without a second thought.”
“Please, stop!” Collin cringed as the vivid image flooded his imagination, making his stomach roll over and over again.
River chuckled, shaking his head, his emerald eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. He pressed a damp cloth to Collin’shand, gently wiping away the dried blood. As the wound was cleaned, a deep gash emerged—ugly, angry-looking.
“Hold still,” River murmured.
Collin braced himself as River dabbed on a thick brown ointment that smelled earthy and sharp, like damp wood and riverbanks. The paste stung at first, a flash of heat, but then the pain ebbed into a cool tingling that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Waterweed root. His grandfather used the same stuff for scrapes and splinters when they were boys—he and Aries had practically been coated in it every summer. The smell was strange and comforting all at once.
After a minute or two, River wiped the ointment away. From the medical box, he pulled out a slim packet of needles, each one gleaming in the light like tiny threats.
Collin swallowed hard. His heart kicked into a faster rhythm.
He hated needles. Especially when they were heading straight for him.
River, calm as ever, chose one and cleaned it with practiced ease. He threaded it quickly, then gave Collin a soft, reassuring smile—one that didn’t quite make the needle look any smaller.
And then it began.
The first puncture made Collin’s whole arm flinch. Every stitch after that was a new shock, a fresh jolt of pain. The tug of thread drawing the skin together, tight and foreign. It turned his stomach. The only thing that kept him grounded was watching River’s hands—so sure, so steady, the thread moving with a rhythm that was almost graceful.
How did River make something so awful look easy?
“Remember to breathe,” River said gently, not looking up.
Collin blinked. He hadn’t even noticed he was holding his breath. He pulled in air—shaky at first—then again, deeper. The weight in his chest loosened.
A few heartbeats later, it was over.
“Are you coming to the bonfire, River?” Collin asked as the three of them stepped into the golden heat of late afternoon, backs to the hospital door.
River hesitated. His smile faded just slightly, and a shadow flickered behind his kind eyes. “I don’t think so. I’ve got things to do at home—my father’s expecting me early.”
“It’ll only be a few hours,” Aries said, grinning. “You can’t miss my rematch with Arion.”
River chuckled but didn’t turn. He pushed the door open with the bottom of his foot. “Wish I could. But good luck. I hope Arion doesn’t embarrass youtoobadly.”
