Page 36 of The Spark that Ignites
“Let me look at that bite,” she added. Rummaging in his pack, she found her canteen and offered him a quick drink. He took four large swallows before she took one herself. “I probably should’ve offered you this before.” Without hesitation, she poured the alcohol onto the wound. At Vesper’s hissed protest, she said, “Would you prefer an infection?”
“No, but bloody Hollow thatstings.” He rubbed his face with his good arm. “You appear to know what you’re doing. I take it you’ve done this before?”
After dabbing away the blood, Emmery nodded and inspected the bite. Now that it was clean, it didn’t look nearly as bad. “I was a healer after the war. Mostly soldier’s chronic injuries, fevers, stitching wounds, that kind of thing. It helped me get by.” Some of the worst she’d treated were blown off body parts, splintered bones, and pain from phantom limbs. There wasn’t much she could do at that point. At least Vesper’s shoulder would heal unlike those poor victims. The war had dragged on too long and destroyed countless lives. She shrugged but the memories weighed on her chest. Not that she even liked humans, but it was ... cruel.
Her eyes wandered to Vesper’s scars—cavaefor the Hollow andzvezdafor the Fallen. She frowned at a foreign black mark the size of her fist, stamping the center of his chest. Inky shadows slithered within the serpent strangling an atrophied heart. It pulsed like it was alive.
Emmery blinked. That was impossible. Pressing her fingertips against the raised mark, she confirmed it wasdefinitelymoving. “What’s that?”
“It’s the mark of aShadowheart.” He glanced at her fingers and cleared his throat. “You’re handsy for someone who doesn’t like to be touched.”
“What?Oh.” She yanked her hand away, a fierce blush colouring her cheeks. “If you don’t want me to touch you, fix your own damn shoulder next time.”
“You insisted, remember?” The bastard smirked. “And I don’t mind. You can touch me whenever you want. But I feel the double standard should be acknowledged.”
Emmery grimaced, using his own words against him. “Do you want my help or not?”
His eyes narrowed and he muttered a snarky comment, but turned, giving her better access to his battered arm.
“That’s what I thought,” she said, borrowing his know-it-all tone. It was too much fun not to. “Now be quiet and let me bandage your shoulder.”
Vesper sat unnervingly still as she wrapped the wound and fashioned a sling. A silence swelled between them as he watched her diligent fingers knot the bandage. “I’m surprised you were a healer. I know how you feel about humans. You would have to get close to them. Talk to them, interact, touch. Not exactly ideal for you.”
Emmery’s hands stilled. “When I was healing ... it calmed me. It almost gave me an escape from my magic. I wore gloves and travelled so often I wasn’t concerned with being recognized.” She worried her bottom lip. “It was nice to do good for once. To help people even though they would never help me. It didn’t matter.”
“I findgoodis overrated and rarely accurate. More like taken for granted.” Vesper stretched his legs toward the fire. “It’s too bad you were on the wrong side of the war.”
Emmery shook her head. “I don’t think there’s a right or wrong side. Only innocent casualties fighting for selfish leaders.” She poured water over her hands, washing away the blood. “Everybody wants something. It all comes down to how much you’re willing to do to get it. How much of yourself you’ll sacrifice. Some will kill for it, others won’t.”
He studied her face in the low firelight as she shifted closer to the flame’s warmth. “Have you never fought for something you believed in?”
Emmery removed her boots and peeled off the bloody stockings. Sucking air between her teeth, she squinted at her raw feet. “To be honest, I’m not sure what I believe anymore.”
Vesper noticed her wince, his lips pressed together. “Want some help?”
She handed him the canteen and turned her head away. “Do it quickly.”
He tipped it and the sting radiated up her legs and spine as the alcohol burned. Gods did itburn. Emmery bit her lip to keep from whimpering. Shit, that was going to hurt tomorrow.
Vesper sifted through his pack until he produced a silver tin the size of her thumb and thrust it toward her. “Here.”
Emmery tentatively took it and unscrewed the lid. Inside was a thick pink substance that smelled of spun sugar. “What is this?”
“Healing balm. Rub it on your feet.” He continued to rifle through his pack, clearly not finding what else he was looking for as he twisted his mouth in thought. Desperate to put a stop to the burning, Emmery spread the balm, and the numbing took instant effect. She couldn’t suppress the relieved sigh from slipping out.
Once she had coated her feet, she eyed Vesper. “Don’t you want some for your shoulder? That bite is pretty bad.”
Vesper just shook his head. “You need it more.”
The sentiment took her aback. Her feet would be fine, but his shoulder was a damn mess. Emmery gave it another sniff, savouring the sweet aroma. “Where did you get this?”
“I made it. My friend has the blessing of earth and taught me a few things.” He took the tin from her and shoved it back in his bag. “I think he got tired of patching me up.”
Emmery battled a smile as she imagined Vesper’s friend dealing with the same grumbling she’d just endured. Would they have put up with it?
When she returned her attention to him, a small grin breached his lips and then he slumped back onto his bed roll. “Fuck. What a day.”
Night swept in like a billowy, dark bedsheet. Laying on their bed rolls, they listened to the night air, the gentle chirp of crickets, and coo of owls in the stillness. Vesper hummed quietly to himself. The song was familiar—a melody she heard somewhere before but couldn’t place. It took a moment to realize it was the one the sirens sang.
