Furyborn

Then she stepped back, smiled brightly at everyone, and clapped her hands. Four of the robed figures glided forward.

“We’ve prepared bathing rooms for you. Please don’t talk to me again until you smell better. Oh! Little one.” Camille smiled at Remy. “You’re a sweet fellow. To whom do you belong?”

Remy lifted his chin and took Eliana’s hand. “To my sister.”

Camille’s face hardened. “Well, that’s a shame, isn’t it?”

He glared back at her. “Not to me.”

Even to Eliana, the smug smile she shot at Camille felt insufferable.

• • •

But upon entering the bathing chamber, Eliana’s mind caught up with itself, and her happiness died.

Shit.

It was a gorgeously appointed room—walls of white polished stone, dressing screens covered with brocaded fabric in plum and turquoise, cushioned settees piled high with bath linens, baskets of soap, bottles of oils and lotions.

In the center of the space bubbled an enormous circular pool. A fountain stood at its center, featuring a slender statue of Saint Tameryn combing shadows from her hair.

They were to bathe here. Eliana wanted, desperately, to bathe. But first Navi would want to change her bandages. She would see Eliana’s smooth, unblemished back. Simon and Hob had taken another chamber—thank God—but Navi was bad enough.

Eliana released Remy’s hand and began backing away from the pool.

“El?” He glanced at her, yawning, then froze. “Oh.”

Navi gazed happily at the pool and let out a contented sigh. “God, it’ll feel good to remember what it’s like to be a proper human again. Eliana, let’s change your bandages.”

“Here you are, my lady,” murmured one of the bustling attendants. She handed Navi a basket of clean white cloths. “The Wolf told us you would need these. We are trained as healers, my lady. Shall we help you?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. Eliana?” Navi frowned when she saw Eliana inching toward the door. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want to change my bandages.” Eliana’s panic was so complete that she could think of nothing else to say. “They’re fine.”

Navi’s smile was bewildered. “They’ll get infected if we don’t. It’s been hours. Come here.”

One of the attendants moved toward Eliana, bowed, then reached out to guide her down the steps toward the pool.

Eliana slapped her away. “Get away from me!”

Navi stared at her. “What in God’s name is wrong with you?”

“Don’t come any closer.”

“Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”

Eliana let out a burst of incredulous laughter. “I need help from no one.”

“You’re delirious. Your fever has returned.”

“Just leave her alone!” Remy cried out.

Before Eliana could move, still frozen with fear, Navi had lunged, spun her around, and pinned her, front first, against one of the room’s smooth marble columns. A familiar blade pressed into Eliana’s side.

Arabeth, she thought faintly, you traitor. She wanted to twist away, but remembered her supposed wounds.

“You’re hurting me,” she gasped out. “Please, my burns—”

“This knife of yours is my favorite,” Navi said tightly. “I couldn’t resist swiping it when I had the chance. I’ll give it back, perhaps. If you don’t make me angry. You’re hiding something from me. Tell me what it is.”

“Navi, please!” Remy’s voice was near tears. “Let her go!”

“Sweet Navi,” said Eliana, Navi’s cheek so close to her own she could smell the girl’s stale breath. “And I thought you wanted us to be friends.”

“I do.” Navi sounded genuinely sorry. “But if you don’t answer me, I’ll knock you out and fetch Simon, and he will change your bandages, and you won’t be able to stop him.”

Eliana let out a desperate growl. “Would you like to wager on that?”

“You’ve been acting strangely for days now. It’s not the fever nor your wounds. You’re planning something. Another escape? Will you bring death down upon Rinthos like you nearly did on Crown’s Hollow?”

“I’m planning nothing.”

“Then what is it?”

Eliana realized too late that her eyes were filling with sudden, exhausted tears.

Navi’s expression softened. “What are you afraid of?”

“El, don’t,” Remy warned.

Eliana glanced past Navi at her brother, and then at the attendants waiting frozen nearby. And she realized, with a sick twist deep in her gut, that she wanted this. She wanted to tell someone who could help her sift through her questions—Lord Morbrae’s throat, the vision of the Emperor, her own impossible body—and find an answer.

And if she was going to tell someone…better Navi than Simon.

She took a shuddering breath. “Leave us,” she said quietly.

Silence. Navi turned to the two attendants. “Do as she commands. Say nothing of this.”

They bowed their heads and glided out of the room. Once the doors had closed behind them, Eliana closed her eyes. “All right.” She let out a long, slow exhale. “All right.”

Remy’s tearful voice came out choked. “El, don’t. Please.”

“I want to.”

Navi stepped away and lowered Arabeth, her expression grave. “What is it, Eliana?”

Eliana hesitated, then, still facing the column, shrugged off her jacket. She pulled off her bloodstained tunic to reveal the dirty bandages beneath. Dressed only in her boots and trousers, she whispered, “Take them off, and you’ll see.”

Navi gently began removing the bandages wrapped around Eliana’s torso. When the first bandage gave way, Navi gasped.

Shivering, Eliana leaned her forehead against the wall, crossed her arms over her chest, and waited for Navi to finish. She had never felt more vulnerable in her life.

“Eliana…” Navi traced her fingers over the muscles of Eliana’s bare back. “They’re gone. Your burns… It’s like they were never there. I don’t understand.”

“You won’t tell anyone.” She steeled herself and glanced over her shoulder. “Will you?”