Page 151 of Bone Year

I take my hand off his head like he burned me and stare down at him for a moment longer.

“Don’t worry, Red. I’ll take good care of him.”

I look up for the first time to the person across the table with the syringe, and Malric winks at me above his mask.

Malric is assisting, of all people.

I reach across the table, shoving his shoulder without thinking. “Get the fuck off him.”

Someone grabs me around the waist from behind.

“Remove her from my operating room,” Nestor barks, and I’m shoved out the door before I can do anything else.

I hurry around the corner and sprint up the few tiny steps to the observation room, pressing my hands to the window and looking down over Jace.

He’s sedated now, his good eye taped shut.

I can’t hear anything.

I glance around until I see a placard like the one in the lift and hold my hand to it.

Come on, Ashwell. Please give me this.

The placard glows bright for a moment, and then the sound in the operating room comes through, carrying clearly into the observation room.

Thank you.

“Most of the muscles are intact. If not for the corrupted claw, we could place the eye back inside. He would lose sight, but with proper reconstruction, his eye would still move and look normal to everyone else.” Nestor’s voice fills the small gallery as he teaches the two blood years assisting him.

I want to yell at them. Yes, that’s a viable option. Try to remove the corruption and place the eye. Jace would want to keep his eye at all cost, even if only for aesthetic purposes.

But I don’t hit the window or I’ll be kicked out of the observation room too.

Gods, I can’t stop replaying what he said in my head. My hand slowly drifts over my chest where it aches.

Did he mean, “I don’t want to die looking at the girl who hurt me?” Or did he mean, “I don’t want to die looking at the girl I love, because if I do, I won’t have the strength to fight?” Or perhaps it was, “I fucking hate you, Mae. Get out of my face.”

I need to get out of my own head and stop over analyzing. The important thing is that Jace is going to live. He’s going to be okay.

“The corruption has tracked along the optic canal,” Nestor says as he works. “We cannot save the globe. We are proceeding with enucleation.”

I squint. The eyeball is lifted free in his gloved hands, the dark claw still penetrating the side, black veins lacing the sclera where they should be red. He places it in the kidney dish at his elbow.

“Note the involvement of the optic nerve. Completely transected. There is no scenario where vision could have been preserved.” His voice is calm, technical, detached.

He looks down at his glove, where Jace’s blood has soaked into the linen of his sleeve. His head tilts a fraction. His brow furrows. He looks up at one of the blood years assisting him then back down at the wound.

“The blood is unusual,” he says, quieter than before. “Higher viscosity than I would expect. Note that. Continue suction.”

Malric leans in.

Nestor’s voice resumes its measured pace, and I cannot tell if he is bothered by what he saw or if he has already filed it away somewhere. Is he worried the corruption spread to his blood? No, there’s no way it would happen that fast.

“We will fill the socket with a current weave to preserve the shape of the orbit. Without it, the lid will sink and the angel’s face will be marked beyond what the wound itself has done. Watch the layering. The current must be set in three passes, here, here, and here before the conjunctiva is closed. We close with silk. The socket will be stitched shut and patched. He will wear the patch for the rest of his life.”

I turn away. I can’t watch this. My heart is breaking for Jace, and I didn’t even ask Lux if Ellavee was injured.

Nestor is right. I need to go be useful somewhere else.