Page 187 of North Queen
The corners of Mikael’s mouth turned up, but Norah frowned at her words. Surely it didn’t take a special gift to see what could describe most every story in Kharav.
Mikael released her hand. Servants in long linen tunics stepped forward and stripped him of his clothing. Norah squirmed, still uncomfortable with the unabashed Kharavian ways, although she wasn’t offended. She kept her eyes on his face.
They spread a mixture of herbs across his chest, letting it sit a moment before sponging it away.
“To clean the skin and numb it,” Salara-Mae explained. Norah hadn’t realized Mikael’s mother had stepped beside her, and the woman’s voice startled her.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not much,” Mikael assured her.
“It hurts a great deal,” Salara-Mae said. Mikael scowled at her.
Norah swallowed.
“Sit beside me,” he told her. Then he lowered himself onto the heavily embroidered mat on the floor and lay on his back, waiting.
Norah took a seat on the floor cushion to his right, and Salara-Mae took the additional cushion just behind.
Salta Tau sat on Mikael’s left side. The woman picked up a long tool with what appeared to be barbed bone at the end. She dipped it into a bowl of ink and set the edge against the skin of Mikael’s chest. Then she struck it with a small mallet. Blood sprang from around the edge of the tool, but the woman wiped it away and continued.
The inking felt like eternity. The constant tapping of the mallet, the bleeding—Norah felt it pained her more than Mikael, who lay motionless. She could barely make out the design forming under Salta Tau’s hands—a patterned circle of some sort.
Finally, as the sun started to set, Salta Tau stopped. Mikael’s chest was a mix of blood with ink, and Salta Tau spread a thick mixture of herbs over it. Then she covered it with her hands and spoke again in the Kharavian tongue. Norah bit the inside of her cheek to quell her impatience. She wanted to see the finished image. Even though it seemed somewhat unoriginal, as she had gathered through Salta Tau’s words—swords, blood, something with a crown—this was their story, and she wanted to see it.
She cast her eyes around the room as they waited. Salara-Mae sat expressionless. Norah looked up at the commander to find him staring back at her, his eyes dark and cold. They hadn’t spoken since her attack. Mikael told her Soren had been the one to find her, the one who’d saved her. She wondered if he would add that to his own inked stories. UnderTales of Regret.
Salta Tau wiped away the herb mixture from Mikael’s chest, catching Norah’s eye and calling back her attention. Mikael watched her as she leaned over him to see.
His skin was still raw and swollen, but very clearly now appeared the image of two crowns, mirrored against each other along a spear in the center, and bordered with layered blades to create a circle. On the top sat Norah’s Kharavian crown, or rather, a representation of it in the geometric patterns of their marking style.
Then she gasped.
She hadn’t recognized it at first because it was inverted, but on the bottom was her Mercian crown—her mother’s crown. It wasn’t a patterned interpretation like Kharavian ink images, but instead bore the crown’s exact likeness.
“How did you see this?” she breathed. “Where is it?”
Mikael looked down at his chest. “What?”
Norah’s lip trembled. She looked back up at Salta Tau. “Can you tell me where it is?”
Mikael pushed himself up to sit and caught her hand. “Where what is?”
“My mother’s crown. I lost it.” She paused, her eyes welling. “I lost it when you took me as I was on my way to Aleon.” She looked back up at Salta Tau, her desperation surfacing. “How can you see it? Do you know where it is?”
“That’s not how the Gift works, Salara,” Mikael said softly.
“No.” She pleaded Salta Tau. “If you saw it, maybe you can see what was around it. It could help me find it.”
But the old woman shook her head.
And the disappointment came as heavily as the original loss. Norah let out a breath, trying to regain control of her sudden emotion.
The servants spread another mixture of herbs across Mikael’s skin, and he shifted for them to wrap it. When they finished, he donned his clothing again. Then he reached out his hand and helped her to her feet.
He didn’t release her after she stood. Instead, he pulled her closer. “I’m sorry, Salara.”
She shook her head. “You’ve done nothing wrong.” Her voice came in barely a whisper.
