“Take him,” he ordered, though the commanding effect was lost when he sneezed. He shoved Brunie into her lap. The creature took one look at Risa and settled down without further complaint.
They rode out of Spearbelly quickly, in the exact direction the Wolf had cautioned against. The spot where Bo the dwarf had dropped them off yesterday flew past as they circled the town and rode toward the Grunion Mountains.
Eventually, Risa’s good hand slipped. She slumped sideways, too weak to hold herself up any longer.
“Stop!” Javi called.
Everything sounded dull in her ears. The horses’ slowing trots, their snorting, even Javi’s voice as he turned and caught her in his arms. “I think she’s dying.”
She wasn’t, of course. No one died from a dislocated shoulder.
The Wolf’s voice floated around her fog-filled head. “Let her down. I can catch her.”
Javi clambered down before his shaking hands reached for her waist. Risa slid off, another pair of hands gently grabbing her good arm.
The Wolf slipped her cape off and spread it across the dusty ground. A halo of tight curls sprang from her head, blue-black hair shining under the full moon. With the Wolf backlit, it was difficult to get a look at her face. Once again, a tingling started at the back of Risa’s neck the longer she stared.
“Lie down,” the Wolf urged, voice gentle. “Did something break?”
“My shoulder,” Risa answered, wincing as she lowered herselfonto the cape. The material was cool to the touch, slippery like silk. The Wolf helped, hands arranging her arm at her side. “It’s happened before.”
Like many of her accidents, it was a result of refusing to listen to her mother. With no one to play with and bored of being stuck in her room, Risa took to climbing water-soaked trees and scaling the rotted frames of abandoned homes. When she got home with a dislocated or broken bone, her parents would set it back properly themselves, and then her mother would yell at her father when she thought Risa was asleep, convinced their daughter might one day hurt herself in a way she wouldn’t be able to recover from.
Risa didn’t know how to tell her mother that there was nothing to worry about. Bad luck was a scavenger; it settled beneath her skin and waited for the right opportunity, then rooted around and searched for ways to cause pain to others.
Javi hovered above her, eyes blown wide with concern. “She’sdying!”
She didn’t know how to tell him, either, without revealing her secret.
“She’s not dying,” the Wolf snapped.
To Risa, she sounded a little different. The accent more lilting, the speech less monotone.
The way Javi gestured wildly at her implied he did not believe the young outlaw. “Look at her. She’s pale and sweaty. Practically at death’s door.”
He didn’t look much better himself. The entire affair had flattened his curls and lined his temple with beads of sweat. He looked properly disheveled.
“I can set it,” the Wolf offered, looking at Risa for consent.
They needed to get moving. The Wolf didn’t say it, but Risa was sure they weren’t far enough from Spearbelly to breathe easy.
“Do it.”
The Wolf snapped her fingers at Javi. “You heard her.” She looked back down at Risa. “I have a handkerchief I can stuff in your mouth. If you scream.”
“Scream?” Javi knelt beside Risa. His frantic eyes darted from her arm to the Wolf. “What are you going to do to her?”
Risa nodded, ignoring his concern.
The Wolf searched her pockets and pulled out a beautiful embroidered handkerchief the color of the night sky. Rosemary and mint flooded her senses as the Wolf stuffed it into her mouth.
“What can I—?” Javi’s fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt.
Risa tracked his movements with her eyes.
He cleared his throat and tried again. “What can I do?”
“Stop being so dramatic, for one thing,” the Wolf snapped.
