Page 24 of Across an Endless Sea

“My name is Bethani,” the faun says, as she pulls a rag out of her belt and wets it with the water from the jug.

I open my mouth to tell her I can wash myself, but the words won’t come out, proving them a lie.

Instead, I say, “You don’t have to do that.”

“It will make you feel better,” Bethani promises. “They’ve been washing you with the same stuff they were trying to make you drink. Probably wouldn’t have affected you so much if you weren’t surrounded by all this…” She waves a hand at the ship. “I had a sister who was sensitive—grew up beside a beach that was contaminated during the second Fomorian war—she could barely pass by a speck of rust without losing her breakfast.”

My awkward sponge bath is fast but mercifully thorough. Bethani chatters happily about her siblings as she works. I start to braid my own hair, only to give up and allow her to do it when my fingers just refuse to cooperate. Then we both turn our attention to the dress that Prae provided me.

The dress itself is a pale blue, but the sleeves and voluminous skirt have been covered in a fine black lace. It’s short, coming to just above my knees, but that’s the least of my worries. The bodice is tight, and the fabric stings as it comes into contact with the barely scabbed-over burns from Caed’s armbands.

My healing must be slowed by all the iron, and I don’t dare look at my wings, which took such a beating during my capture.

“Here.” The faun holds out two strips of leather. “We can wrap your feet in these, but it might be best if you do it…”

Because it’s going to hurt. She doesn’t say it, but it’s in her tone.

My feet don’t hurt so much right now, and when I look at them, I discover they’ve been coated in some kind of pale green gloop.

“It stops iron poisoning,” the faun mumbles, but she doesn’t meet my eyes.

Does she think I’ll be angry at her for helping me?

“Prince Caed ordered us to cover all of your burns in it.”

Oh.

Shutting away my thoughts on that matter, I turn back to the task of wrapping my feet.

I hiss as the leather makes contact with my soles, tears springing unbidden in my eyes. Still, I persevere. I can’t cover every inch of my feet, but I do manage to create a passable pair of sandals that will mute the worst of the damage.

Then I try to stand.

“Goddess,” I whisper-hiss.

Putting weight on my feet was a terrible idea. I flop back onto my ass as pain radiates all the way from my toes and runs up my spine.

“Maeve?” I hiss under my breath. “Got any motivation for me?”

It’s instinct to call out for my guides, but nothing happens.

“My lady, you mustn’t,” the faun whispers, going pale. “They’ll restrain you if they suspect you’ve tried to use magic.”

Remembering the bangles, I lift one wrist, but they’re gone.

“Good, you’re ready.”

Caed’s voice jolts me, and I twist in place to find him leaning casually against one of the crates.

“You can go,” he dismisses Bethani with a wave of his hand.

She glances at me, looking for permission.

Caed’s lazy expression deepens to a scowl, but he says nothing as I bite my lip and try to send the faun my best ‘I’ll be fine’ look.

I’m not certain I succeed, but both of us can sense Caed’s patience wearing thin. With a final look at me, she slinks away, cowering as she passes him.

“You’re causing trouble already,” he murmurs, watching her go. “Come. The king awaits.”

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