Page 53 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

“Hold her still,” I said, feeling ill at the sight of her in so much pain. Tears sprang to my eyes as she moaned and writhed.

Reo clamped down on her shoulders. Nisse returned with a cloth soaked in something sour and pungent. She held it to Vaela’s mouth and nose. Vaela inhaled sharply, breaths coming far too quickly.

Matty dropped the used linens in a metal waste bucket. “We’ll need to bury this,” he said.

Talani nodded. “I’ll start digging a hole out back.”

She disappeared, and I shrugged off the leather gloves, already feeling them wear away at the fingertips.

Matty had a replacement ready. “Thanks,” I said. I pushed my hair back with my forearm, then I got back to work.

I sniffed softly as I cleaned and dressed the wound, fighting tears as Vaela’s writhing eased to the occasional flinch, her moans quieting. It was the most meticulous I’d ever been, taking my time to remove every bit of venom. I only realized how long I’d been working when sunrise cut across the room, setting the space on fire with pinks and oranges.

Matty gently laid his hand on my shoulder. “I think you’ve got it all. You scrub any more and you’re going to wear her skin down to the bone.”

I swallowed hard and nodded, dropping the used linen into the metal bucket before bandaging the wound as carefully as I could.

When I was done, Matty and Reo moved Vaela from the exam table to one of the recovery rooms. Talani placed a chair by her bedside. She glanced at me briefly, flicked her head toward it, and I drifted into the room, sinking down by Vaela’s side.

I reached for her hand, entwining our fingers. Her skin was hot. So hot it almost hurt to hold her. She twitched in her half-medicated sleep, a groan escaping.

“Nisse,” I called.

She appeared in the doorway.

“Something for the pain, again. Please.”

Nisse returned with a bottle of analgesic liquid and a new cloth, leaving it at the bedside table. I tipped the concoction onto the cloth and held it to Vaela’s nose, waiting until her breathing evened out. Sometimes the pain broke through suddenly, and she would cry out, and I would hush her gently, stroking her brow as I offered more pain relief.

She flitted in and out of consciousness, sinking into stretches of fitful sleep, and all the while I watched her. I watched her until my eyes started to ache. Part of me worried that if I looked away, I might miss some silent plea for help. Clutching her hand in mine made it easier. I could feel that horrible heat ebb away, knowing the venom was being burnt from her system.

When she was perfectly still, I stroked my fingers down her jaw or across a sharp cheekbone, tracing patterns into her skin. And when I couldn’t resist it anymore, I leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, inhaling the scent of lake water and leather.

I pulled away, silently cursing myself. I knew better than to let myself develop these kinds of feelings. I knew better than to fall for someone like her. Talani’s words from that night at the pub still echoed in my ears. The good ones die young.

The good ones ended up in situations exactly like this, crying out in pain, with some poor healer trying to patch the holes.

My jaw trembled. I couldn’t do this to myself.

I wouldn’t.

Not after everything I’d watched my mother go through. Not after the pain of losing my father.

Not again.

A hand curled over my shoulder, and I startled with a gasp.

“Just me, sweet girl,” Seraphine whispered. Her presence was a comfort, and I leaned into her touch. “I heard what happened. I would have come earlier if someone had woken me.”

I rubbed at my face. “No, we need someone here today with a measure of sense,” I said. “It’s best that at least one of us is well-rested.”

Seraphine shook her head and tutted. She ran her hand along Vaela’s bed, adjusting the sheet, smoothing away wrinkles. “It’s awful. But she’ll be okay now. Nisse said as much.”

I nodded, finding that I still trembled. Vaela was stable, and that was as much as we could hope for. “I wish Gunther would return already.”

I missed him. I needed him.

I wanted his guidance and reassurance and a dose of that unyielding optimism. I needed him to clutch my face between his hands, look me in the eyes, and promise me everything would be okay.