Page 69 of Mate Night Snack
Her forearm was wrapped in clean white bandages that smelled faintly of herbs and moonlight, but beneath the cotton she could feel something else. Not pain, exactly, but a strange tingling sensation, like her skin was trying to remember how to be normal again.
"Twyla and Miriam worked on you for three hours," Emmett said quietly. "Cleansing ritual. Salt, silver, some kind of purification rite that involved more candles than I thought one room could hold."
Katniss looked around, finally taking in her surroundings. She was in Miriam's bedroom, lying on a quilt. The room still carried traces of the ritual: melted candle wax on the nightstand, circles of salt swept into the corners, and the lingering scent of burned sage that clung to everything like incense.
"Did it work?" she asked.
"The physical healing, yes. The shadow magic is gone." Emmett's voice was carefully neutral, but she could feel the tension radiating from him through their bond. "But there was... damage. To your magical pathways. Miriam says it'll heal with time, but your seer abilities might be unpredictable for a while."
Miriam suddenly appeared in the doorway carrying a tea tray that clinked softly with each step.
"You're awake," she said with obvious relief, setting the tray on the dresser. "How's the pain?"
"Manageable." Katniss accepted the cup Miriam offered, inhaling steam that carried hints of chamomile and something earthier. "Thank you. For whatever you and Twyla did."
"Don't thank us yet, sweetheart. You're not out of the woods." Miriam settled into the chair beside the bed, her movements careful and deliberate. "Shadow magic leaves scars, even whenit's cleansed. Physical ones heal clean, but the magical damage... that's trickier."
"What kind of damage?"
"Think of your seer abilities like a river," Miriam explained gently. "Smooth flow, predictable channels, everything moving in harmony. The shadow magic was like throwing boulders into that river. We cleared out the poison, but the currents are still disturbed."
Katniss sipped the tea, feeling warmth spread through her chest. "Meaning?"
"Meaning your visions might be stronger or weaker than before. They might come without warning, or not come when you need them. And there's a chance they might show you things that aren't entirely true."
Her seer abilities were already her least reliable asset, the one thing she couldn't fully control or understand. The idea of them becoming even more chaotic was terrifying.
"For how long?"
"We don't know," Miriam admitted. "Shadow magic works differently on everyone. Could be days, could be months. But Katniss, there's something else you need to understand."
"What?"
Miriam's expression grew even more serious. "The knife wasn't just cursed with shadow magic. It was specifically designed to target seers. The symbols carved into the bone, the particular blend of dark energies... this wasn't a weapon of opportunity."
A chill ran down Katniss's spine that had nothing to do with her injuries. "He's done this before."
"We think so. The missing girls, the ones whose souls he's trapped... this might be how he broke them. Corrupted their abilities, made them easier to control."
The room fell silent except for the soft tick of the mantle clock and the distant sound of morning birds beyond the window. Katniss stared down at her bandaged arm, trying to process the implications of what Miriam was telling her.
She'd been specifically targeted. Hunted. Marked for corruption by a monster who'd spent decades perfecting his methods.
And she'd walked right into his trap.
"I need to talk to Emmett," she said quietly. "Alone."
Miriam nodded and rose from her chair, pausing only to squeeze Katniss's uninjured hand. "Call if you need anything. And try to rest. Your body needs time to heal, even if your mind won't let it."
When they were alone, the silence stretched between them like a chasm. Emmett sat on the edge of the bed, close enough to touch but carefully not presuming, his storm-gray eyes watching her with the kind of intensity that made her want to look away.
"Say it," he said finally.
"Say what?"
"Whatever Ashwin told you. Whatever poison he poured in your ear that's making you look at me like I'm a stranger."
Katniss closed her eyes, but that only made the memories sharper. Ashwin's voice, smooth as aged whiskey and twice as toxic. The things he'd said about Emmett's past, about the consequences of mercy, about the violence that lurked beneath his careful control.
