Page 33 of Claimed By Shadow and Blood
“And I need aid as well.” Crag Face stood on the other side of me.
“You’ll have to wait until afterher.” The doctor exhaled loudly. “Orders were given, andsheis thepriority.I won't have Master Ainle coming down on me. You won't bleed out in the next half hour, so grab a towel and call in a replacement.”
Scar Eye scoffed as he folded his thick arms over his broad chest. “Just get it done.”
Elias's warnings clawed back into my mind—silence so profound you could hear your own blood pumping, darkness so complete even shadow sight failed, void vermin that attacked without warning. My hands trembled… or at least I thought they did. Who knew at this point?
I wouldn't let them see my terror.
I flattened my palms against the stone and forced myself to take a slow breath. Then I scanned the room for anything I could use. It was a simple space, with numerous cupboards and counters filling most of the walls. Medical supplies lined the shelves— jars of herbs, rolls of bandages, and cups of tools. Probably scalpels in the one clay cup on the second shelf over the nearest counter. If I could reach one of those scalpels, or even just that jar...
I had to try to escape. It might be my only way to get out with my sanity.
The guards positioned themselves between me and the door, their eyes tracking my every movement. Crag Eyes now had a towel pressed against the wound on his face, and he stared at me with so much hatred that I shivered. Scar Eye went to the door and bellowed for another guard to come at once.
The doctor stood in front of me, blocking my view of most of the supplies. Even if I managed to grab something, I'd be stopped in seconds.
“Don’t even think about it.” The doctor put a finger in my face and narrowed her eyes. “You try escaping or even fighting, and I’ll carve a pain sigil on you that’ll keep you writhing tilldawn.” She scoffed and turned away, then rummaged through the supplies on the counter nearest the table, muttering under her breath. When she turned back, she held a clay jar full of a murky brown liquid that smelled like rotting vegetation, vinegar, and spoiled meat. My stomach churned.
"Drink this," she commanded, thrusting it toward my face. "All of it."
I hesitated, eyeing the viscous fluid. Tiny black specks that looked like dead gnats were floating in it.
"It prevents infection," she said flatly. "Makes you more resistant to the elements. Doesn’t do much for the pain, but it’ll help you live to see a few more weeks. No bad side effects other than the taste. Can’t say the same for the tortures Ainle has lined up for you."
The guards chuckled.
I took the jar with shaking hands. There was no scent of sulfur to reveal the doctor was lying. Small comfort.Fuck them all. I hated them. If I could, I’d rip them apart.
I raised the jar to my lips, my breath steadying a little. The first sip hit my tongue, and bitter and slimy liquid swiftly filled my mouth.
My throat convulsed as I fought against my body's natural instinct to reject the foul concoction.
"All of it," the doctor repeated, her eyes cold and unblinking.
Each swallow was worse than the last. The liquid crawled down my throat, coating it with a film that made me want to claw at my neck. My stomach lurched. Breathing through my nose, I willed myself not to vomit.
"Keep drinking," Scar Eye barked, taking a threatening step forward.
I glared at him over the rim of the jar and forced down another mouthful. My eyes watered as the sludge hit my empty stomach like a stone. The last few swallows were pure torture,each one bringing me closer to retching. When I’d finally drained the jar, I had to press my fist against my mouth to keep from spewing it all back up. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
The doctor snatched the jar from my hands with a sneer. "At least you can follow simple instructions." She turned away, set the jar down with a sharp clack, and reached for another container on the shelf. She returned with a shallow jar filled with a pale green paste that smelled of mint and something sharper, more medicinal. Grunting, she grabbed one of my ankles and yanked my foot up. The sudden movement sent pain shooting up my leg, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.
"Hold still," she muttered as she began slathering the salve onto my raw, bleeding foot.
The paste burned like fire at first contact, and I couldn't stop the hiss that escaped my clenched teeth. My wolf snarled, wanting to rip the woman’s arm off, but I forced myself to remain still. The burning sensation gradually gave way to an odd numbness that spread from my soles up through my ankles.
"What is that?" I rasped.
"Something to keep you from bleeding out before they're done with you," she replied without looking up. Her fingers dug in, pressing the salve deep into my wounds. “Can’t have you getting infected before you make your confession. ’Specially not if you’re going into the Whispering Veins. Might even heal you for good if you have enough magic in your veins. Healthier you are going into the Whispering Veins, better the torture. Not as much to focus on aside from the looming madness and silence, until suddenly there’s too much.”
The doctor continued methodically treating my wounds, applying the burning paste to the cuts on my legs, hands, arms, and chin with the same clinical detachment.
"Stop flinching," she snapped when I jerked away from her touch on a particularly raw scrape along my forearm. "The more you move, the longer this takes. And my time is valuable."
She grabbed my chin roughly and turned my face to examine the cut at the corner of my mouth where Douchewaffle had dug in his claw. Her fingers pressed painfully against my bruised jaw as she dabbed the paste onto the wound. Healing always hurt, but this woman seemed to delight in her painful efficiency and offered no comfort. Not that she would to me.
Finally finished, the doctor moved away to replace her supplies. I rubbed my arm, my thumb pressing against one of the bruises. It still ached, but it no longer felt quite so fresh. Somehow, that vile concoction had settled, and my feet no longer burned as much. Small improvements. I cast another look around the room, hoping to spot some tool I could reach without the guards spotting me. There was nothing within arm’s reach.
