Page 79 of Reap & Sow

The statement seemed to echo around the cabin, a hollow reassurance. Eda kissed Lawrie’s brow before allowing herself a few minutes to clean up in Robin’s washroom, desperate to wipe away the grime and sweat. She changed into the clean shirt Kit had bought for her and went back upstairs. Robin met her eyes and nodded toward the cabin door. Ben and Eda followed her outside.

Kit sat atop the gunwale, human but for his eyes. He was tying off a proper bandage around his arm at last. Ben’s glare could have expanded metal at close range, but the demon was unfazed. He merely watched as Robin told them, “The lad has lost a lot of blood. I’ve packed the wound with strong ointments and stitched it well, so he needn’t be left with lasting injury unless infection sets in.”

Eda worried her lip. “You think it will?”

“I know little in the ways of healing magicks. I fear it would take far more than my paltry efforts to ward off the effects of a fiend bite. They are foul creatures by any standards, but a mortal has no natural defense against their bile.”

Ben rubbed his face. “What about leeches? The physician on our street uses them to draw bad humors from the blood.”

“No use at all, though I imagine my opinion would be discredited by the so-called medical societies of Wesland.”

“Then, what? We just wait and see if he gets worse?”

“At present, that is all we might do.”

Grave silence descended. Fires crackled in the distance, voices calling from boat to boat. Water rocked gently against the Oriana’s hull.

Even in the midst of danger, Eda had felt light as air to see her brothers again. To know she’d actually liberated them. But now that same crushing dread bore upon her as it had when the fiend sank its teeth into Lawrie. Was it to be this way always? Every hard-won victory brushed aside by a newer, worse obstacle? She could stomach her own demise to know her brothers would be well. But if Lawrie…if he…

“It’s my fault.” She stared across the river, unseeing. “I should have tried to expose the bishop from the start, proven our innocence. Set you free the proper way. But I was so afraid of it not working, of taking too long. I just—I wanted to save you from the noose, and now Lawrie is…”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Kit’s voice took her by surprise. She jerked around to find him watching her, face like thunder. “You have sacrificed too much for others already. Do not add this guilt atop all the rest.”

Ben stiffened. “You talk of her sacrifices? What did she give you for your aid? How many years?”

“Ben.”

“Tell me. Right now.” He rounded on her. “You made a Pact with him. Don’t deny it. Why else would a demon help you?”

Eda wilted beneath the heat of his disappointment, as she always did. But she’d come so close to losing him forever. She would not apologize for making the Pact with Kit. Saving her family was worth it. “I did what I had to. And I’d do it again.”

Ben exhaled through his nose. “How many years, Eda?”

Her throat closed. Hot shame and fear stung her eyes.

Kit said it for her. “Fifty.”

Ben’s jaw fell in shock. He looked between them, hazel eyes wet as her own. “Fifty? Fuck. Fuck, Eda—”

“I needed help,” she whispered. “I didn’t know how else to save you. I don’t regret it.”

“You damn well should!” His cheeks flushed red with anger, but she saw the desperation feeding it. He was panicking. He was heartbroken. It didn’t make his rage any easier to bear. “You think either of us wanted you to pay for our lives with yours? All you’ve done is place the noose around your own neck, you stupid girl!”

“Wouldn’t you have done the same for me?”

“That isn’t the point!”

“Of course it is! It’s stupid and senseless and terrible, but it’s love. I love you, Ben. I love Lawrie. How could I live with myself, knowing I might have saved you but never tried?”

“And how do you think Lawrie and I will survive it once you’re gone? Did you think of that? You’re my little sister. You’re not supposed to die before me. I’m not meant to stand over your saints-damned grave—” His voice broke. Furious, he turned to Kit. “Give her years back.”

“Even if I wanted to, I cannot.”

“Figure it out. Right now.”

“Ben—”

“I cannot,” Kit repeated. He unfurled. “If there is a way to give back what was freely given, I do not know it.”