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Glad the night was over, Faye joined Sparrow on the street as they strolled away from the High Queen’s estate back into the city.
“Did you have fun?” Sparrow linked arms with her and glanced in her direction, suddenly halting her steps. She leaned one way then the other, staring at her eyes. “Your eyes don’t hurt?”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“You’re going to a healer.” Sparrow grabbed her wrist and began leading her through the streets.
“I can’t see a healer here.” They were in Necromia, and she was wearing a fake dark-blooded soul shard.
The castes were more than just the soul shards. Dark-bloods didn’t recognize her as a person. To them, she was nothing more than an animal. They refused to wait on her or let her purchase goods. The healers didn’t waste their time on her kind.
“I’m dark-blooded, and I say they will.” Being on the darker side of the spectrum among the dark-blooded, Sparrow always forced the issue.
“I feel fine. Let’s just go home.”
Sparrow pulled her up the stone stairs and pushed open a door. “Hello?”
The reception area of the clinic was small but well lit. The walls were painted in neutral earth tones. A middle-aged woman with a healer insignia on her chest came to the front desk. “How can we help you?”
“She needs to be seen. Her eyes are changing color.”
Faye stiffened, apprehensive as the woman looked her up and down before she approached, pausing on her ring. She peered at her eyes, leaning closer. “That is peculiar.”
Peculiar? What the hell did that mean? She smacked Sparrow, staring straight ahead so the healer could continue her inspection. “What do you mean my eyes are changing color?”
The healer flattened her palm over Faye’s eye, and warmth spread over the side of Faye’s face.
Sparrow tried to bury her worry, but Faye could see it. “You have yellow streaks through your eyes.”
“Well, the good news is I don’t feel any damage.” The healer flattened her palm over Faye’s other eye.
The warmth covered the side of Faye’s face and faded when the healer let her go.
“You should spend the night. If anything changes, we’ll be here to heal you. I can recheck you in the morning.” The healer motioned for them to follow her.
Faye glanced at Sparrow, who gave her a stern look and pointed after the healer. Defeated, Faye followed the healer to a small, furnished room with a single bed under a window.
As they entered, the healer asked, “Which court do you belong to?”
“Sparrow’s Song,” Sparrow answered.
The nurse nodded and closed the door.
“What are you doing?” Faye hissed, heading straight to the mirror over the dresser.
“Making sure you don’t wake up blind.”
Faye leaned closer, inspecting her eyes. Thin streaks of gold slashed through her black irises. She turned to face Sparrow. “You don’t belong to a court.” A fact the healer would find out in the morning when she invoiced a court that didn’t exist. Or worse, it did, and Sparrow was sending them a bill.
“She doesn’t know that.” Sparrow settled in an overstuffed chair with her plate of stolen pastries. “If you don’t get in that bed, I’m going to take it, and you can sleep in the chair.”
“You can turn into a cat. We both fit on the bed.” Neither of them knew their race, having grown up in an orphan home. Sparrow claimed Familiar, a race of secretive people who served the realm Chaos and worshiped fate, enabling them to see the future. Sparrow’s chaotic nature and petite, voluptuous figure fit the race’s characteristics. Her ability to turn into a small, fluffy, white cat when they were young girls was what convinced her. A trait only inherited by Familiar.
Sparrow rolled her eyes. “Last time I slept with you as a cat, you tried to suffocate me.”
“We were seven.”
“Which makes it worse now because I’m still the same size, and you have gotten much heavier.”
