Page 19 of A Shard of Ice

I groan, feeling sweat bead on my brow, and I groan again in pure frustration because I come up empty. I can feel my magic, but I can’t access it. Not out here in the desert. I’m an icefae. We use water, ice, and snow to find our powers. Just as the bloodfae use blood to access theirs.

“Isn’t it working?”

I shake my head, my chin dropping to my chest for a moment. “If only we had a little more water. I could use it to bring up my magic.” I look up at the last skin attached to our camel.

The skins on Cyrano’s beast were all but drained. We only have one left, with three of us needing water. I can’t go there.

“I wish we had something to bind the wounds. Anything to get the bleeding to stop.”

The blood is slowly dripping from the wounds onto the sand below.

“You’re right.” Kyrie frowns. “If we don’t do something, and fast, he is going to die before our eyes. We need something to close the wound.” She says the last softly to herself. Kyrie narrows her eyes in thought. “I saw something in the pack earlier that might help.” She walks over to the camel and pulls the pack free from the saddlebag. Then she starts rummaging through it and pulls out a small leather pouch. She smiles, holding it up. It’s so good to see her do something other than frown or scowl at me, so I’m momentarily taken aback. Then, I pull myself out of it.

“What is it?” I smile back.

She opens the pouch and takes out a needle and thread, holding it up so that I can see.

“That will work,” I say.

“I guess something like this would come in handy out here.”

“Most definitely,” I tell her, still smiling. “You’re a genius.”

Kyrie sits and spends a few minutes trying to thread the needle.

“I would offer to help, but my fingers are big and clumsy.”

“I’ll do it,” she says. “There!” She jumps to her feet.

“I have to admit that I’m not much of a seamstress, and I’ve never had to stitch a wound before. We have healers at the— We normally use healers for such things, but I will try.” I’ve always relied on the healers at the castle.

Kyrie looks at me like I just grew a second head. “I will do it. I’ve stitched many a wound. The closest healer lived half a day’s ride away from our farm. Humans don’t have the luxuries you fae do.” She snorts.

Then she gets down on her knees next to Cyrano and begins to stitch the wound. I marvel at how steady her hands are. Using care, she pierces his skin with the needle, pulling the torn flesh together as she works. She’s quick and neat. Better than many healers I’ve encountered.

“Must you hover over my shoulder?” She gives me a look.

I move back. “I didn’t mean to crowd you. It is a pleasure to watch you work, Ky.”

Moving quickly, she sews the two deep gashes on his chest and then three more on his upper thigh. It works to stop the last of the bleeding. Blood coats her fingers by the time she has finished the last stitch, which she ties off. Sitting back on her heels, she wipes her brow with the back of her hand.

“He looks like he’s breathing easier, but I hate how pale he is,” she says, looking up at me. Worry is evident in her eyes.

“You’ve done all you can.”

I hand her a piece of cloth, which she accepts with a nod, wiping as much of the gore off as she can.

“You did a great job.”

Her cheeks turn rosy, but she looks away, irritation flashing in her eyes.

“He needs water,” I say as I walk to the camel.

Before I get there, Kyrie jumps to her feet and quickly retrieves a waterskin, kneeling back down by Cyrano’s side. “I’ve got it.” She gently lifts his head and coaxes him to drink small sips of water.

He doesn’t open his eyes or acknowledge us in any way, but he does swallow a few mouthfuls, which is positive.

“We must go.” I look around us. The smell of blood might draw more predators. “We need to find rock before nightfall, especially with him reeking of blood. It’ll draw all the creatures of the night, including the wurms.”

---