I look away from his gaze.
“Nothing has changed,” he says, his voice right next to my ear. His hand clamps over my wrist. I feel a flash of heat and then a pain so bright that it lights me up, arches me back, fills the cave with the scent of my burning flesh and the sound of my hoarse screams. White flames burst before my eyes, and I pray to the stars for release that doesn’t come. By the time he’s finished, I’m wishing for death, but he reminds me over and over of my purpose, of my duty, awakening all my memories of my lessons from the elders. My life is not my own. My body belongs to the people. My magic is for them, not for me. Magic. Magic.
If I could laugh, I would. Raimo is so wrong. Everything has changed.
I wake with a jolt, tightly encased up to my neck, warm and unable to move. My body feels like it weighs a hundred stone. My eyelids are too heavy to lift. But my ears work perfectly, and now I hear what wrenched me from the void: arguing.
“Why didn’t you just do it while she was asleep then?” It’s Oskar, his deep voice as sharp as the blades that hang from his belt.
“You would have me violate the wishes of a young woman simply because she’s vulnerable enough for me to force my will upon her?” Raimo asks. His voice is full of teasing amusement. “My dear boy, I never thought I’d hear such a suggestion from you.”
Oskar makes a growling sound of pure frustration. “If her wishes were the product of a bigoted, fever-addled brain, then—”
“Oh, she was quite lucid. Her desires were perfectly clear. No magic. Only the ordinary means of healing.”
I never said that, did I?
“Did you explain that she could have been well by now? Did she understand that those ‘ordinary means’ would amount to days of pain and—”
“Give me some credit. She’s stubborn as a stump.” Raimo’s voice rises in quavering, high-pitched imitation. “?‘Don’t come near me with that sorcery! I won’t have it!’?” He cackles.
Oskar sighs. “If I’d known she felt that way . . .”
“You’d still have brought her here. And you did the right thing. She’s already better. The fever has broken. She’s going to live, and we should all be thankful for that.”
“And her hand?”
“No more bleeding and no signs of rot or blood poisoning so far. She probably won’t lose it. But she’ll be in pain.”
The scrape of boots against stone tells me Oskar has moved closer to my resting place. If I had the strength to move or speak, I would greet him. I have the oddest desire to see his face again.
“Will she be able to fend for herself?” he asks.
“Eventually. Until then, you’ll fend for her.”
“What?” Oskar’s voice bleeds with shock. “The weather is colder every day, old man. I have to—”
“You have to do what I say. She’ll need protection until the spring if she is to survive. I can heal her wounds, but I can’t keep her belly full or look after her safety.”
“But winter. Thus far, there’s no warmth from the temple, and for all we know, it’s not coming. Right now I’m the absolute worst person to help her.”
Raimo chuckles. “Oh, son, I couldn’t disagree more. And if you do it, I’ll release you from your promise until the spring thaw. As it turns out, we can’t wait longer than that.”
Oskar is silent for a long moment. “I’ll have to talk to Mother. And Freya.” He sounds like he dreads the idea.
“Then do so. Come back for Elli in . . . let’s make it eight days. I’ll look after her until then, but any longer than that isn’t possible. I’m pushing it already.” He pauses for a moment before adding, “And if we happen to be visited by constables again, do us all a favor and don’t mention you brought her here, hmm?”
“Did she tell you something about where she came from, or why she was banished?” Oskar asks.
“No,” Raimo replies quickly. “But you were right—she’d been whipped. Whoever did it might be searching for her, and the last thing we need is to be accused of kidnapping servants from wealthy families.”
“They’re much more likely to come here because of what Sig did to the miners than because I came to the aid of a banished servant.” Oskar’s voice has gone low and bitter.
Raimo grunts. “Perhaps, but we don’t need to give them any more reason to bring temple-dwelling wielders to our doorstep, do we? Now leave me alone, and I’ll see you in eight days.”
Grumbling, Oskar thumps out of the cavern, and Raimo’s gnarled fingers close over my shoulder. “Necessary lies,” he says, but I’m already drifting again, and if more words fall from his lips, I don’t hear them.