Indigo eyes seared her own, but Lux didn’t look away. Her aunt’s gaze churned, retreating to a past Lux could only guess at. Riselda broke away first, smearing the lumpy paste onto the wound extending from the boy’s temple to his left ear. Red dripped from her fingers, and Lux fought back a gag.
She could never have been a healer.
“The mayor denied knowledge of the torture occurring within his prison. As I knew he would. But he did seem genuinely upset about your abduction. He denied its authorization and appeared shocked that the captain had handed out the punishment. Though he became quite irritated when I informed him of the death. All it took was a reminder of your skill. And mine as well. He plans to bring the entire Shield forward to dole out a forced recollection that he is the sole authorizer of such things. Of course, I suggested the other two men be found and dealt with. A quick death, I think, would be much too generous, but it’s ultimately not my decision.”
Riselda observed her work, and Lux absentmindedly noted that the boy’s breaths were becoming fewer as the minutes ticked by. “Power like that cannot be bought, Lucena. Thebrilliance in your veins alone holds enough to sway Bartleby Tamish, and that is no small thing.”
Lux knew she should be paying attention to what her aunt said, but she yawned instead. “I think he’s very nearly dead, Riselda. Do you need your books? I’ve kept them in the alcove.”
Riselda’s responding smile was a touch condescending. “I’ve those words seared in my mind, darling. Thank you, but I haven’t had a need for them in a very long time.”
And to further prove her point, Riselda began:
“Within mists, beneath rays, we summon from sleep.
To lessen weight.
To mend all aches.
Peace in whispers, strength that saves.
Stitches and binds.
This cycle rewinds.”
Riselda’s words sent Lux back to her childhood, listening to the statuesque woman at her side as she healed an old woman who had fallen, breaking her hip in two places. It had amazed her then, sending shivers down her spine. It did the same now, as all witnessed works of brilliance around her did, and she couldn’t help but lean forward, studying the wound as it shot through with wisps and whorls of gold, stitching itself closed before her eyes.
“Stay with him. I’ll fetch some rags.”
Riselda left her alone to monitor the boy as his chest rose and fell deeply. As the blood dried beneath him. Lux slouched onto a stool. His eyes fluttered open, and she allowed him to survey the room before flinging himself to sitting.
“Calm down, boy. You’re safe.” She was not in the mood to deal with a frantic child.
Hurry up, Riselda.
“Where am I? What happened to me? Is that…my blood?” The boy leapt further down the table, away from the puddle at his fingertips. His frenzied eyes roved over her face, her clothing, before studying the room. “No… You’re the—”
“She is the necromancer, yes. But you didn’t die. It was I, who healed you.” Riselda swept in with glittering eyes and long skirts trailing behind her.
The boy’s eyes rounded. First with fear, then in pink admiration. “I was taking a moonlight stroll, lost in contemplation of the wonders of life, when I was accosted. I remember nothing else. Thank you, madam. I am indebted to you.”
Lux rubbed her temples.
“No need, young man. Though perhaps you should save your contemplations for mornings or dinner time from now on.”
“Wise words. Yes, I believe I will. Thank you. May I…” The boy pushed from the table, stretching to his full height, his heels leaving the floor in an attempt to match that of Riselda’s. “May I inquire as to your name?”
Her aunt smiled. “Riselda.”
“Magnificent. Are you named after a flower? It must be a flower.”
“No. Nothing of the sort. Will you be able to make it home safely?”
He puffed out his chest. “Certainly.”
Riselda nodded. “Be on your way then. The gambling dens have terrible people hidden within. Be mindful as you pass them by.”
Pink cheeks deepened to red. “Yes ma’am.”
