Page 207 of Salt Between the Wolves

Fresh blood had stained the fabric beneath it, not much but enough.

The healer closed her eyes briefly, looking not frustrated but resigned, which disturbed him far more than frustration would have.

"You are getting worse."

Soren leaned back.

"The shoulder will heal."

"I wasn't talking about your shoulder."

The answer came immediately, which was hardly surprising.

The healer carefully cleaned away the blood, her movements remaining steady, professional, and unhurried, as though they were discussing the weather rather than something far more serious.

That calmness somehow made every word heavier.

"I'm alive."

Varda nodded.

"For now."

Silence settled between them while the crackling fire in the corner suddenly sounded both very loud and very far away.

Soren looked toward the opposite wall, focusing anywhere except the mark and anywhere except her eyes.

The healer finished applying fresh linen and then sat back, studying him rather than the wound.

She looked at him the way a physician studies a patient who refuses to understand his own condition.

"The injury in your shoulder will heal," she said quietly and with complete certainty.

"The bruises will heal."

After a brief pause, she added, "The exhaustion might heal."

Soren already disliked where this was going.

Varda continued anyway.

"The other wound won't."

The room became very still.

For the first time since entering, Soren said nothing.

The healer rarely spoke dramatically, exaggerated, or guessed, which meant she believed every word she was saying, and that made those words difficult to dismiss.

"The other wound is changing."

She pointed toward it.

"Whatever is happening, it isn't slowing. "

"You are in more pain than you were a month ago. "

After another pause, she added, "And now your judgment is failing."