Suyin didn’t argue any further, though her expression made it clear she thought this a foolish risk. Disappearing into another part of her suite, she returned dressed in dark blue leggings paired with a tunic in a slightly paler shade of blue. She touched her hand to the deep brown scarf with which she’d covered her hair. “I wore the darkest things I could find.”
Thunder rolled across the sky just then, right before rain began to fall outside in a hard beat. “The dogs can’t track in this,” Andromeda said with a teeth-baring smile. “We’re clearly meant to escape tonight.”
The words had barely left her mouth when Naasir slipped into the room. Eyes huge, Suyin’s hand lifted to her mouth as Naasir took her in and said, “You have one wing. Does it affect your balance?”
The blunt question made Suyin blink and blurt out an answer. “Yes. It’ll also drag me down should I need to run.”
Naasir’s eyes met Andromeda’s and she felt her entire body tense. Looking to Suyin, she knew Naasir’s silent solution was the right one, but it would brutalize the other woman when she deserved so much better.
Suyin’s next words proved she’d also worked out what needed to happen. “I’ll bleed too much or I’d already have cut off my remaining wing and tried to escape via the ground,” she said without any hint of self-pity. “The pain from excision is intense and will likely cause me to lose consciousness for an hour at least. The blood loss will render me weak for much longer.”
Anger was a burn in Andromeda’s blood, but she forced herself to think. “We can break your wing.” That, too, would hurt, but it shouldn’t cause unconsciousness or the kind of blood loss that came with excision.
Andromeda had experienced a broken wing herself as a much younger angel, after being caught in a sudden draft that slammed her into the gorge wall, understood the resulting level of pain—and from what she’d seen, Suyin had developed a much higher pain threshold as a result of the repeated wing excisions. “Once it’s broken,” Andromeda added, “we can strap it tight to your back.” Like a folded-in fan, so it wouldn’t gather air.
Suyin took a deep breath, nodded. “Bones heal.”
Naasir closed the distance to her on that soft permission. Picking up a small cushion that had been lying on one of the sofas, he gave it to her. “Muffle your pain.”
While Naasir did the horrible task and Suyin bore it, Andromeda stepped onto a chair and removed the swords mounted on the wall. They may have been intended to taunt and terrorize Suyin, but they had razored edges and handled well. Conscious she’d need a scabbard if she was to carry both, she reluctantly left one behind.
As for her knives, she set them aside for Suyin; the other angel had no training with the sword, would find it unwieldy. Knives, however, were instinctive to use.
That done, she took the sword to the unfortunately white sheets on Suyin’s bed. By the time she’d finished slicing them up, Naasir had also completed his grim chore. Suyin’s wing hung limp, and though the angel’s face was as bone white as her hair, she’d held on to consciousness. Using the long strips of cloth, Andromeda and Naasir together strapped the broken-and-folded wing to Suyin’s body. “We’re almost done,” she reassured Suyin when the other woman’s body shuddered.
Wrapping the final strip of fabric around Suyin’s ribs, she tied it off. “Done.” She didn’t stop to think—she enclosed the much older angel gently in her arms and held her, rocking softly until Suyin drew in a shaky breath and pulled back.
“You were strong,” Naasir said, approval in his tone as he slid away what looked like a small phone. “Is your balance better?”
Taking the knives Andromeda handed her, Suyin walked, then ran quietly around the suite. “Yes, but I’m not used to heavy exercise.”
“We won’t be running hard.” Naasir came over to Andromeda to tug at her braid. “Ready?”
She held up the sword. Its deadly edge gleamed in the light.