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“Never.”
“Lord Rogue,” an imperious and familiar voice said from the doorway, “am I to work in the dark?”
His magic moved out and candles all around the room burst into flame. They drowned out the stars but illuminated the lovely furnishings—including a workbench much like the one I’d made for myself. As I watched, a maidservant bustled in and laid my grimoire on it with gentle reverence.
At least I could read it.
With a sigh I turned my head to face Lady Healer. She wore layers of green, her chestnut brown hair rippling down her back to the floor. Surprisingly, she curtseyed to me. “Lady Sorceress Gwynn,” she said in a deferential tone, “how may I serve you?”
Apparently I’d come up in the world sufficiently that she might regret having once called me an undisciplined peasant wretch and a whore of a magical dilettante.
Not that I held a grudge or anything.
Oh, and guess what? I wasn’t bound by silver anymore. Under the serene surface of her public mind, wariness and fear bubbled beneath. That would teach her to kick at someone when they were down. I might be injured and probably in danger of dying, but I could still do her damage if I wanted to.
Maybe it made me a small and vengeful person, but I liked knowing that.
“Her hands,” Rogue informed her and stood, then paced over to the transparent dome and stared out, hands clasped behind his back.
Darling Hercules Goliath purred and made a cheerfulmrowingsound at Healer as she sat carefully next to me. She rubbed his ears. “Hello, Darling.”
“He’s changed to Goliath,” I told her. Darling had been her Familiar first, until he jumped ship to throw in his fortunes with me. “And Hercules most recently. I’m mostly calling him Darling Hercules Goliath—which is a mouthful.”
Healer smiled with affection. “You always did want a battle name,” she said to him.
“Unfortunately he keeps escalating.”
“Good for him. Now let me see what we’re dealing with here.”
Obligingly he moved, stretching out along my side, purring and maintaining that anesthetic connection. I stared up at the glass dome while she examined my hands, asking me to bend my wrists and fingers.
“Well?” Rogue demanded, having returned to the bed to observe.
“You let it go long,” she replied.
I laughed a little, remembering her saying that to him before, and she gave me a slow nod of acknowledgment. Ah. Letting me know she wouldn’t pretend not to recall on what terms we’d parted. Fair enough.
“You’re wasting time.” Rogue clenched his jaw. Not at all amused. He began pacing, the measured tread of his bootsteps on the stone floor making a comforting rhythm.
But she wasn’t. Her magic had been flowing into me since she’d touched me. Sweet and green, like the cool undersides of leaves in summer. I hadn’t known enough before to sense it—and then I’d been put out altogether.
“You’re not worried about me losing control this time?” I asked her.
Her hazel eyes flicked up from her intent gaze on my injuries. “No. You’ve admirable control now.” She started to say something more and stopped. She knew, then, what it cost me to get it. And had enough sense not to say more. “Your human physiology is interesting,” she said instead. “Is your elevated body temperature meant to make your body inhospitable to the invading microbes?”
I really wished I knew what idea she articulated that my mind translated as “microbes.” Fascinating that she had the concept. “Yes, actually. Though it’s destructive if it goes on too long.”
“So I sense.” She nodded crisply. “The infection is cleansed from your body and your flesh knitted. Therefore I’m restoring a healthier temperature. Darling—ah, Goliath, that is—you may cease your efforts, so we can check that she’s truly pain-free.”
With an elaborate yawn, Darling Hercules Goliath stood, stretched and leaped off the bed, ambling over to gaze out the dome.
Like an airplane touching down, the fever tangibly dissipated and leveled out, leaving me clearheaded, feeling good and amazingly full of energy. Born of relief that the fix had been so relatively easy, no doubt. I raised my hands to see and must have made some kind of sound because Rogue stopped his pacing and appeared again at the bedside.
My hands were perfectly smooth and glowing with health—with three-inch feline claws extending beyond the second knuckle.
“You can’t eliminate the claws?” Rogue framed it as a neutral question, but it was clear to me that he wasn’t surprised. He’d expected this and hadn’t wanted to say so.
Healer looked somewhat surprised, glancing back at me from him. “You don’t want to keep them?”
