Frostblood (Frostblood Saga #1)(18)

After a few minutes, the girl’s coughing eased.

“Best stay close to the fire,” said the mother. “Too cold in the wagon.”

The man nodded and they huddled together, adjusting position a few times before their breathing changed and it was clear they had fallen asleep. It would be near impossible to get close without waking them.

I went back to Butter and riffled through the saddlebag again, this time searching the bottles by size. It was the smallest I wanted, the one that was carefully labeled as producing a deep sleep from one drop of its fumes. I wondered if Brother Thistle had used this concoction to subdue the guards in the prison.

Once I found the tiny bottle, I moved behind the wagon where the man with the eye patch stood watching Kaitryn and her parents with a somber expression. I put a drop of potion on the edge of my cloak and crept with painstaking care toward the sentry, on his right side, where he wore the eye patch.

Just as I was poised to leap forward, he pushed away from the wagon and walked off. I cursed softly, drawing back into the shadows. But if he was checking the borders of the clearing, I would have at least a couple of minutes before he returned. I would have to be fast.

Leaving myself no time to second-guess my decision, I moved to the family huddled by the fire, quickly putting the soaked edge of my cloak to their faces, first the father, then the mother. They were already asleep. This would just make their sleep a little deeper.

I stared at the little girl, so soft and vulnerable, yet so tough in her own way, her body fighting that incessant, tiring cough. I couldn’t risk using the sleeping potion on her with her breathing already troubled. Instead, I shook her gently.

“Kaitryn,” I said softly. “Wake up.”

It took a few more shakes and repetitions, but she finally opened her eyes. “So tired,” she said blearily. “Go away.”

I smiled. “I have medicine to help you breathe better.”

She stared at me with a furrowed brow. “I don’t know you.”

“I’m a friend, I promise. You can’t go on any journeys if you can’t breathe right. Isn’t that so, little sea captain?”

After a few seconds, she nodded warily.

“Good girl. I’m going to put a few drops on your chest.”

She let me put the drops on the clammy skin over her sternum—one, two—and then I tucked the blanket back.

“Breathe now,” I said, conscious that my time was running out. The sentry could be back any second. “Any better?”

She took a few breaths and coughed. I scrunched up my brows, thinking hard. When Mother had treated the boy with the cough, she had me come put my hands on his chest to warm him.

“I forgot, little sea captain. We need heat.” I put my hands on her blanket over her chest. “Is it growing warm yet?”

“A little,” she said.

I needed to send out more heat. But how much was too much? The baby I had tried to warm, Clay’s brother, came into my head. Maybe it had been my fault that he died. Arcus had said I was wild, uncontrolled. Could I trust myself to do this?

Kaitryn let out another cough. I didn’t let myself think. I sent out a pulse of heat, then concentrated on keeping it steady and unwavering. This was a much softer process than making fire, just raising my own temperature. I could do this.

After a minute, Kaitryn’s cold little hand covered mine, then quickly pulled away. “Your hand is so hot.”

I held my breath, waiting for her to yell for help. Instead, she blinked and smiled. “I don’t feel like coughing anymore.”

“That’s good.” I fought the urge to laugh with relief. Carefully, I handed over the bottles and explained how her parents needed to administer the same medicine, always with heat.

She nodded. “I’ll remember.”

I smiled in approval. “Clever girl. Now here’s the important part. You need to buy more herbs when you get somewhere proper, like a village with an apothecary or a healer. Essence of wintergreen and spiny meadowvale.” I made her repeat the words three times. “A good healer will know the herbs by the smell,” I told her, “but in case you don’t find one, at least you’ll know—”

“Who in blazes are you?” said a low, threatening voice.

My head snapped up. Standing a few feet away was the man who wore the eye patch, obviously shocked to return from his rounds to find a stranger chatting calmly with one of the village children.

I stood up quickly, showing my palms. “Just a refugee like you. On my way to the coast.”

“And where’s the rest of you?” He scanned the woods. “The rest of your party?”

“Gone. Killed when the soldiers came.”

He shook his head. “They may burn our homes in a drunken rage, but soldiers don’t kill people, least not so many. Unless you’re caught hiding a Fireblood.”

I forced my expression to smooth and lifted my chin. “Well, I didn’t stick around to find out.”

“What were you doing?” He gestured to Kaitryn.

“Healing her. With herbs. Kaitryn, hold up the bottles.”

“Micha,” said the man, nudging Kaitryn’s father with his boot. “Dierle. Wake up.”

When they didn’t wake, his jaw hardened. “What did you do to them?”