Page 13 of Wraithwound

And then, the two men in front of her were at the front of the line, the guards asking gruffly, “Announce yourselves and your business here.”

“I am Oscar, and this is my son James”—Then he turned towards Lena and gave her a look, one that said play along—“and this is my niece, Vera.” He held out an arm towards Lena, ushering her forward between them. She blinked, the only indication that they’d caught her by surprise.

No, no, no. Sentimental fool! What was he doing? If she was discovered to be a wraith, they’d be killed right alongside her. Lena kept her face open, neutral as she nodded.

“State your business,” the guard said again.

“We are here on healer’s business,” Oscar said.

“Yes,” Lena chimed in. “We’re from the southern region, a small village there.” She racked her brain for the name of a small village she’d visited long ago. “Lundar. We’ve run out of most tonics and salves and were hoping to purchase more at the market.”

“What happened to your face?” the other guard interjected.

“The girl doesn’t know how to ride, she—” Oscar started.

“I want to hear her tell it.” The guard held up his knife and pointed at Lena with it.

“It’s true, our mare,” she said. “The ornery thing bucked me off, and we lost her to the forest. I ended up falling⁠—”

“Health checks, then, on with it,” the guard said. He looked around, scanning the line, as if already disinterested.

Oscar went first, rolling up his sleeves and then lifting his shirt and working his way down to roll up the ends of his trousers. He winced as he bent over, and the guard flung out a hand, grabbing his forearm to halt his movements.

“What was that there? You made a face. Is it from an injury?” the guard asked.

“No, injuries,” Oscar said calmly, “just an old man with aching joints.” When the guard didn’t respond, he added, “Might I show you?”

The guard eyed him wearily but released his arm. Moving slowly, Oscar went on to complete the health check. James was next.

Lena was nearly trembling now with the itching but understood that these guards were more than mere brutes. They were trained to observe body language and facial expressions. She didn’t want to trigger any suspicions that might lead them to disrupt her wounds or rip at her clothes. Then James was finished with his health check, and it was her turn.

She looked at the guards, meeting their gazes as she began to roll up her sleeves before saying, “Have either of you heard of devil’s weed?” The men looked at each other, clearly perplexed, but she continued. “Perhaps you’ve heard it called something else, Hollow’s Leaf?”

Both guards recoiled, and Oscar and James went stiff at her sides.

“You see, when our mare bucked me off, I ended up falling”—She stretched out the words as if pointing out to the guard that she’d been trying to say that before he cut her off—“into a patch of it.”

Lena willed a flush to fill her cheeks.

“That mare was afraid of her own shadow. More trouble than she was worth,” Oscar said. James just nodded on her other side.

Lena lifted her skirts next to show them her legs, red and splotchy, and then moved onto her neck and chest, making sure to keep her movements smooth. Stuffing the pain in her ribs, her chest down, down, down, Lena used her index finger to pull the neck of her blouse away and showed them the inflamed skin there.

“That there, is that a bandage, what is that?”

Lena’s heart stuttered in her chest. She thought she’d been careful enough to avoid the bandages on her chest.

“It is. Here, let me show you,” she said quickly, as she made to reach for her bandage. “I developed some large blisters here. They’re currently oozing a bit but⁠—”

“Enough!” said the first guard with the knife in his hand. “Don’t you think I know the rash bestowed by Hollow’s Leaf is contagious? Are you trying to infect us with it?”

“And how is it that you aren’t tearing your own skin off?” said the other, a mix of awe and suspicion on his face.

“I used a numbing salve on it,” she said, reaching into her pack and pulling out a small tin.

She could have, in fact, used the numbing salve, but hers was laced with an anti-inflammatory that would have reduced the severity of the rash.

“I merely wanted to assure you that I am not infected,” she said, holding both of her hands up in an apologetic gesture.