Page 34 of The Demon's Delight
“I had a good friend there for a long time. He and I spent many an hour fixing the ills of the worlds from the bottom of an ale tankard.”
“I see.” I forced more magic through my hands, requesting that the bone knit back together, that it be strong like it was as it bonded. “Had?”
Seir sighed and bumped his fist against his chest twice before raising it in a gesture of reverence. “Yes. Van has gone on to the Tombs of the Elders to be with his wife. Not long ago, my brothers and I helped his son Ris reclaim the throne.”
That sounded like an interesting story. Unfortunately, I was slipping into the healing trance too far to be a decent conversationalist. It was an odd between-realities state when healing was this intricate. I was in my body but also merged with my magic and therefore not really either one. My surroundings were something I was aware of, but I couldn’t always react to them, nor did I really see them. Fortunately, Seir seemed to have run out of energy for chatting and had relaxed against the wall with his eyes closed, breaths slow and measured as I focused.
He smiled wide when I reached my hand back out, and after brushing his lips against my palm, he leaned into it, holding my hand against his face. He looked all the more like a cat, marking me. Seir rested there for a moment before greedily pressing my hand back to his abdomen. Both of his hands flattened mine against his warm skin, trapping it there.
I stared back at him, skin tingling where he’d kissed it, the whole series of gestures having left my pulse pounding and me breathless.
“Alright then,” I said, trying to shake myself back to the task at hand. I closed my eyes and submerged myself in the healing. Colors burst behind my eyelids as I made the first touches.
Aunt Sal’s chronic sickness was always a particular shade of violet. Cuts, bruises, sprains and most broken bones, those things were green. When I was helping an illness leave the lungs, my magic felt yellow. More serious diseases felt blue or purple. This, however… This felt orange and red, even a little black around the edges, and I wasn’t sure what these new colors meant. Physiologically, Seir was not all that different from a human—tail, wings, and horns excepted, of course. But these new colors reminded me again that he was not, no matter how close he seemed.
Time became a fluid thing as my mind focused only on what my magic was feeling and not what was going on around me. I trusted Seir would alert me if anything needed my attention and was able to fully relax into my power, letting it guide itself through the slow, meticulous repair of bone, muscle, and skin. Behind my eyes, I could seethe badcurling up like burnt paper and dispersing into the blood as tiny particles of dust. I couldn’t actually see it, but I always pictured that the tiny motes that remained were exhaled with the person’s breath as they circulated through. I worked to stitch everything together like I was embroidering the detailed storybook kingdom tapestry I’d made for the big wall in my bedroom.
I’d been so frustrated with Aunt Sal for prescribing such a tedious task as a way for me to hone my patience and craftsmanship when it came to stitching, but the end result after countless hours of labor and skeins of thread had proved her right. Lying in my bed every night for years, I made up a new story about the people I’d sewn, the castle, the surrounding farms, while falling asleep.
“Hailon?” Seir’s voice penetrated my deep focus as I worked on getting his skin to line up just right, to minimize any scarring. “I think that’s enough. You’ve done a wonderful job, but you need to be done now. Hailon,stop.” Urgency laced his tone, and I felt his fingers wrap around my arm and pull me into his body as I swayed, everything around me going gray.
Chapter 16
Hailon
Coming out of the fog in my mind was like swimming through Aunt Sal’s split pea soup. My ears popped and gave a high-pitched ringing noise as whatever had been clogging them cleared away.
“Easy.” Seir frowned at me as I sat up from where I’d been pillowed in his lap on our cloaks. He clutched my sleeve in an effort to ensure I’d stay upright. “If you faint again, we’ll be even, but I’d really rather you didn’t.”
“I’m okay. It’s almost done. I just need…” I left the thought half-formed, scrunched my eyes shut, and sewed the last several invisible stitches.
His voice was tight and pitched low, as though trying not to alarm me while being very concerned. “Leave it. You’ve done plenty. We can work more tomorrow if need be, but for now, I need you to?—”
I raised my hands to prove I’d stopped and opened my eyes, the night now fully dark as the fire burned low. Seir visibly relaxed as I sat back, resting my weight on my elbows.
He drew up his leg, bending and straightening it again, testing it out. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes,” I said stubbornly. “I’m fine.” But my irritated tone couldn’t cover the way my muscles failed me when I tried to get up.
Seir scrambled to his knees, scooping his arms under mine while sliding me toward the wall. He gazed down into my eyes, his thumb smoothing across my cheekbone. “That was dangerous, Hailon. I was afraid you pushed too far. Perhaps you did.” The ring around the pupil in his eyes was extra green, the little wrinkles in the space between his eyebrows deep as he frowned down at me. His eyes dropped to my mouth, then he pulled away, taking my breath with him.
“I’m fine,” I repeated, as though doing so would make it true. I was well and truly worn out, though I didn’t think I was in any danger.
He propped me up with a pack on either side of my body before shuffling over to add logs to the dying fire. I inhaled greedily, desperate to fill my lungs with the air I’d been unknowingly depriving them of while he was so intimately close.
“You do incredible work, I must say. I’m good as new.” He paused to probe at his stomach with his fingers as he walked around near the fire, flashing me a wide expanse of tan skin. “Thank you. You honor me with such a generous use of your gift.” He bowed low, one arm over his chest, reminding me of the day we first met as the tips of his hair brushed the dirt on the ground.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s the furthest thing from nothing,” he huffed, offering me some water. “I’m going to make you something to eat, you need to replenish your strength.”
I shook my head. “Not hungry.”
He scoffed. “I don’t see how, after all that. We haven’t eaten much of anything since we stopped midday. You’re surelystarving by now.” As if to agree, my stomach gave a whine. “See? It will only take a moment.”
“What about you?”
“I snacked from our packs while you were working. I offered you something several times, but it was like you couldn’t hear me.”
