“Is that a legitimate concern?” If she was only trembling before, she was shaking now. Every muscle in her body was tense. “I don’t understand this—what’s about to happen?”
Derek paused what he was doing with the brass mechanism at the chair’s side. “We slowly begin to take out your blood. I’ll monitor your vitals; the more blood we can take out without completely killing you, the better.”
“What’s the difference between ‘completely’ and ‘incompletely’ killing someone?”
He chuckled. “Right, sorry, Revo… ‘Completely’ meaning that your body has gone far enough into failure that magic alone will not be able to revive you.”
She made a noise of comprehension.
“At which point, we begin introducing Dragon blood, slowly. It mixes with what’s left of your blood and your body acclimates to the magic.”
“That’s why Chimera blood is black and not gold or red?”
“Exactly.” Derek smiled reassuringly. After the vote of confidence from the Vicar he had warmed up significantly, and Florence was never more grateful than she was in that second of sitting in the chair waiting.
“So, why does it hurt?” Nothing sounded particularly terrible. Even if he cut her to make her bleed, she’d endured worse pains.
“Fenthri bodies aren’t made for housing magic. I’m sure you’re familiar with forsaken Chimera?” She nodded and he continued. “When the Dragon blood is first introduced and hits your system, it’s…well, for lack of better words, killing you. But it begins to heal you almost at the same time. Since we do it slowly, it doesn’t actually result in death.” His voice trailed off and Florence’s mind treacherously filled in “normally” for him at the end.
“So I’m dying and being revived a bunch, in a row.” Florence looked at the ceiling, bracing herself. “Well, I’ve never died before, so at least I get to cross that off my list.”
Derek laughed. “You’re an odd one, aren’t you?”
“That’s what you get for planning to run away from your guild at thirteen, doing so at fourteen, meeting the White Wraith, and becoming her explosives resource in the span of two years.”
“Yes, that would do it.” He processed her words for a long moment. “The White Wraith, the spurn of Dortam?”
“The same,” Florence affirmed.
“Never imagined I’d see a legendary fighter of Dragons keeping the company of one.”
“Cvareh isn’t like most Dragons.” Florence was instantly defensive. She was exhausted on his behalf of everyone assuming the worst of him.
“Oh, I know.”
“You do?”
He nodded.
“How?”
“Because not most Dragons willingly offer their blood to make a Chimera.”
“What?”
“What do you think we’ve been waiting on?”
Within the next minute, the door opened and Cvareh appeared. Sure enough, he sat down on a small stool next to her. Florence looked on in shock.
“You’re giving me your blood?” She wished she could find more eloquent words, but all else failed her.
“Technically, I’ve been doing that for some time already.”
“But that was necessary.”
“As is this.” He leaned against the wall. “I’m the one who brought you here, who took you from your home. I feel responsible for the fact that you’re in that chair.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I do.”
“Well you shouldn’t—” Her reason was interrupted by the needle that pierced the flesh of her forearm. A second punctured her bicep a little further up and the machine at her side began to whir.
“You’re going to start feeling sleepy,” Derek informed her. “But I need you to stay awake as long as possible.”
Florence watched in fascination as a tank of blood began to fill in the machine. The Alchemist walked around the room, puncturing Cvareh’s offered arm. Sure enough, her eyelids grew heavy, her head thick.
“Florence, stay with us,” Derek demanded.
“Right, right…” she mumbled. Compliance was becoming awfully difficult. Her vision blurred and her thoughts became sluggish. She wanted to talk, but she had reached a point at which she was no longer certain she could say anything at all.
That’s when the pain hit her.
A different set of gears was now whirring on the machine. It was pumping blood from Cvareh’s veins into hers. Just as Derek said, the sensation was excruciating. Florence tried to avoid screaming, but eventually failed.
“Hang in there, Flor.” A large hand closed around hers. “I’m here… It’ll be over soon.”
“Well, actually—” Derek started unhelpfully but was stopped short.
“It’ll be over soon,” Cvareh insisted.
She tried to pry open her eyes. She tried to make sense of what was happening. But it felt like knives were being stabbed into her muscles straight to her bones, only to shear the meat from her skeleton.
Florence breathed heavily. She tried to think of anything else, but the pain was blinding and everywhere. It flowed from her arm but soon it was behind her eyes, under her heels, in her chest; there wasn’t a place it didn’t touch.