Once Broken Faith (October Daye #10)(105)
“I guess it was a longer fall than I thought.” The words sounded weak even to my own ears.
Jin glared at me. “You think? As soon as your bones were set, the Luidaeg brought me a decanter filled with blood. She said she owed it to you. I’ve been feeding you the blood of a Firstborn for the last two days, watching your body put itself back together after a fall you should never have been able to walk away from. You died, I’m sure of it. I don’t know how you can be talking to me now.”
“I don’t think it was the first time.”
Jin’s eyes narrowed. “Explain?”
Haltingly, I did. How the false Queen of the Mists had stabbed me through the heart; how Evening Winterrose’s wards had swatted me out of the sky and into the unforgiving sea. All the other near misses and narrow escapes that maybe hadn’t been misses after all. Finally, I said, “I still think I can die. Everything that lives can die. But I think . . . unless my body is so broken it can’t heal, I think there’s a really good chance I’ll come back.”
“That explains why the Luidaeg assumed you would live,” said Jin. “I’m sure that also explains why I need you to lie still and recover. You’ve been unconscious. You need to rest.”
“If I’ve been unconscious, all I’ve been doing is resting,” I said. “I need to find out what’s going on. I need to tell High King Aethlin what happened.” They must have found Quentin by now, sleeping peacefully in the high tower. I needed them to understand.
Jin shook her head. “He already knows. He took a sample of your blood as soon as we were sure you would live. It told him the whole story.”
I stared at her. It was hard not to feel like my privacy had been invaded, even though what she was talking about Aethlin doing was exactly what I did every time I rode someone’s blood without their consent. I would have said he could go ahead if I’d been awake, not because I wanted to, but because I knew that refusing would have been seen as suspicious. I would also have been able to focus my thoughts on Verona and her crimes, rather than allowing him to roam at will through my memories.
At least it had been him. He already knew most of the secrets I was tasked with keeping, although he might not have been quite so aware of Arden’s insecurities. I pushed the sleeves of my shift up to my elbows, trying to cover my discomfort with a question: “How’s Madden?”
“The knife missed all the major organs, and you did a pretty decent job with the field dressing for someone who has no medical background.”
Jin probably hadn’t gone to a human medical school. Ellyllon were natural healers, and their knowledge of the body and its ailments was mostly instinctual. I decided not to point that out. I was already pissing her off enough by refusing to get back under the covers, and I had once seen her knock Sylvester out with a touch of her fingers and a gentle command to go to sleep. “Good. Arden needs him, and he didn’t deserve to die that way. Where are we in the knowe?”
“Oh, no.” Jin narrowed her eyes. “Get back in the bed. I am not going to be responsible for you running off and hurting yourself again.”
“No, you won’t,” I agreed, and stood. “But I’m awake now, and I need to tell High King Aethlin that I’m his to command. I can’t just lie around here waiting until you feel like I’m well enough to deal with my daily existence.” Especially with the conclave still going; especially with Tybalt still sleeping. I needed the High King to remember that I was here.
Quentin was probably going to be a sufficient reminder of the urgency of the matter at hand. I couldn’t imagine any parent would want to leave their eldest child to sleep for a hundred years if there was any way around it.
Jin took a breath, looking like she was going to object again. Then she stopped, and sighed, and said, “I never win this fight. Just once, I’d like to win. You know that, right?”
“I do,” I said solemnly. “Next time I’m at Shadowed Hills, I’ll stub my toe and let you put me to bed for a week, okay?” The idea was appealing. Peace, quiet, access to the kitchen . . . I could deal with that sort of break.
“It’s a promise,” said Jin.
“Great,” I said. “Now where are my clothes?”
Her smile was slow, and more than a little sadistic. “Oh, I’m sorry, did you want me to do you a favor beyond saving your worthless life? That’s not on the books for today.”
“Don’t think I’m going to stay in here just because you refuse to give back my shoes,” I said.
“I don’t think even you will go streaking around a royal knowe.”
“You call this streaking?” I held out my arms. “I’m more covered than a tent. Don’t think I won’t walk out that door.”
“You won’t.”
“Watch me.” I walked past her, choking a little on the cloud of pixie dust thrown up by her frantically buzzing wings, and out the door into the hallway on the other side, where my dignified escape was promptly thwarted by Sylvester Torquill.
“October!” he cried, rising from the lion-footed chair where he’d been sitting, nervous as a father waiting for news from the delivery room. He swept me into a tight hug before I could react, lifting my feet off the ground. I made a small sound of protest. He didn’t appear to notice, occupied as he was with swinging me around and exclaiming, “Jin said you were recovering, but I never expected to see you up and about so soon! And looking so well! My darling girl, can you ever forgive me?”