Page 117 of The Threadbare Queen

“Let our medics come over,” someone shouted from the Jatan side.

“So they can finish our Commander off? I think not.” Massi’s derisive words were clear in the early morning air.

“Whoever has done this has done this to both of us.” The officer shouting across sounded weary, as if this was not the first time he had said this.

“Obviously. But it was done by one of your people. So it could be the person you send over. How am I to know?” Massi called back.

There was silence.

Ava embroidered a garland of visilli flowers down the inside length of Luc’s shirt hem, hoping no one in the Rising Wave front line would notice that his shirt was lifting up at the back.

Dried visilli flowers were one of the ingredients Dorea, the Rising Wave healer, had lost in a fire set by Kassian spies while the Rising Wave made its way to Fernwell, and one of the cures she had been most upset about losing.

She had told Ava that they were good at drawing poisons out of the body, and one of the first things Ava had done when they had taken Fernwell was give Dorea access to the palace apothecary, where she could restock what she had lost.

It took time to make the flowers realistic, although she worked faster and faster as her fingers learned the shape of the petals.

She wondered for the hundredth time, as she tied off her thread and pressed the embroidery against Luc’s back, if it truly mattered what she chose to embroider. Whether it was her intention alone, or a combination of intention and the image she created, that made the magic work.

She had not been able to test it properly, but when she and Luc returned home, she would get serious about working it out.

If it meant she could work quicker, do less complicated embroidery to accomplish the same task, it could save lives.

But now was not the time to try. Not when lives hung in the balance. Especially the most precious life to her of all.

She had been aware of Massi and the Jatan officer exchanging more words with each other as she worked, the temper in both their voices and the huskiness in Massi’s told her that they had been dancing with each other for a while. Their argument created a perception of progress, when really they were stalling for time, both playing the same game, waiting for something to tip the balance.

No one wanted to make the first move.

Massi was in a position to harm their leaders, those who were still alive, the Jatan were in a position to engage in serious battle, where the odds were in their favor.

Ava tuned out the discussion as she put her hand on Luc’s back.

Was his breath a little easier?

She didn’t know if she wanted it to be so much, she was imagining the progress.

But since she’d started to recover from the rope, her workings were becoming more effective.

No one had noticed her yet. There were no gasps of surprise at her having made it to the fire pit, which meant her invisibility held.

She smoothed her hand over the hem of Luc’s shirt again, pressing it onto his skin. Maybe he needed more.

She moved on her knees to his head and twisted the fabric on the back of his shirt, along the neckline, to start working there. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Massi lifting her bow, and then turned her head to look as Massi shot off an arrow.

The Jatan officer stopped a few paces from the Jatan front line, the arrow quivering in the ground at his feet.

He lifted both hands and stepped back.

Luc sudddenly sucked in a deeper breath, and Massi went still, slowly turning her head to look down at him. “Luc?”

He was still fighting the poison, still unconscious, and Massi turned back, but Ava thought she was a little less stiff at this indication that Luc was doing better.

The success of her visilli flowers spurred her on to work faster on the second embroidery at the back of his neck. Relief made her fingers tremble a little at the evidence she was making a difference.

She tied off a garland of three flowers, pressed the shirt down against his skin, and then leaned over him, awkwardly lifting the cuff of his sleeve. She was forced to lean against his back and use his side to support her body so she could use both hands.

The sound coming from both armies had risen since the Jatan officer had tried to breach the distance and Massi had shot her arrow.

---