Page 367 of Heat of the Everflame

And I wasn’t entirely convinced it was the Arboros potion that had really saved Luther’s life.

We followed Stuart to the makeshift infirmary, where I set to work on the poultice while a handful of Sophos Descended crowded near me, scribbling notes as they watched.

At the edge of my vision, I spied Luther pull Doriel aside, heads bowed in hushed conversation. After some back and forth, Doriel waved over a few attendants. Luther began speaking to them, his expression indecipherable—not closed off as it normally was, but softer. Eager. When he stopped, they rushed off in different directions, a few throwing sly glances my way.

Luther’s eyes slid to me, his lips curving up at having caught me watching him. He returned the favor and let his gaze drag slowly, greedily, down my body, bathing every inch of me in his undivided focus. I was fully clothed right down to my wrists, but the way his eyes burned with dark intention, I felt like I’d been stripped and laid bare.

My thighs squeezed as I forced my attention down to my work.Stop drooling,I scolded myself.You’re mad at him, remember? He ran off and left you.

Yes, to save a bunch of schoolchildren from Vance, my conscience fired back, mocking me in my own sarcastic tone.How dare he be so selfish?

“Oh, shut up,” I muttered.

“Did you say something?” one of the Descended chirped.

I pointed to my bowl. “I said I’m finished up.”

She wrinkled her nose at the mixture. “We’ve tried this recipe before. It doesn’t work.”

“It worked once for me.”

“Once?” she repeated. They all exchanged the same exasperated look. “One time isn’t statistically significant.”

“One is better than zero,” I said defensively.

“If you only did it once, how do you know it was this that saved them? It could have been any number of other factors.”

Another nodded. “You have to cure it at least twice with the same treatment. That’s when you know there’s something there.”

I scowled. Logic and procedure were never my strong suits. I was more of arun-fast-and-wing-itkind of girl.

They all sighed and flopped their notebooks closed, offering up empty smiles and paltry excuses to slip away.

I frowned down at my bowl. Technically, Ihadhealed two patients, but the poultice I’d given Luther had never worked.

Come to think of it, the poultice I’d given Taran only worked the first time I made it, even though I’d used all the same ingredients in the second batch, right down to the water from the Ignios spring.

I used the Sophos magic to call forth my memories from the little house in Ignios where I first tended Taran’s wounds, scouring each moment for a hidden clue. I watched myself prepare the herbs, just like I’d always done, then mash them into a paste, just like I’d always done. Then I cut my linen strips, just like I—

An image flashed into my head, as vivid and real as if it were playing out right before my eyes.

My palm, accidentally sliced open.

My knife, its blade edged with crimson.

My bowl, tainted with a dot of...

Blood.

An unexplainable rush took over. My eyes darted around to ensure no one was looking—only Luther, watching me as always—then I grabbed a small knife and pressed its point into my thumb. Drops of dark crimson trickled into the bowl. I hurriedly healed the wound and cleaned the blade, then stirred until it disappeared.

I waved the Descended woman back over and offered up my bowl. “I think you should try this.”

She eyed it with disinterest. “You’re, um... very kind, but we have, uh... other methods.” She smiled, though it didn’t touch her eyes. “Better ones.”

“You should trythisone,” I urged. “If you check tomorrow and none of the wounds have improved, then you can try your other methods.” I returned the false smile. “Your betterones.”

She grudgingly took the bowl from my hands and hovered nearby, eying me like she was waiting for me to leave so she could throw it out. I crossed my arms and flashed her a patient smirk. Finally, she heaved a sigh and coaxed the others into helping her.

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