Page 47 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
“How will we keep them safe in Evereostre?” Uncle Neel challenged.
I’d never heard of Evereostre, but I would’ve bet money it wasn’t in North America, let alone within commuting distance to UPJ.
“Gentian breached our defenses once before,” Uncle Neel said. “What’s to stop him from doing so again?”
“We weren’t expecting an attack the first time. Now, our forces are always prepared—trained for such things. Amy will be much safer there than she will be here, where we simply don’t have the resources to guard her. Besides, she can receive a much more extensive education in Evereostre, and she’ll—”
Seeing red, I grabbed a magazine off the nightstand by the bed and threw it at my door. My education was my decision, nobody else’s. So was where I lived.
The men hushed at the fluttery thump, and I inwardly yelped as footsteps approached, having only meant to shut them up. As frayed as my nerves were right then, a confrontation could utterly unravel me.
I shut my eyes and burrowed back under my covers. My breaths evened just before the door creaked open, casting light across my eyelids.
“Amy?” whispered Briar.
When I didn’t answer, he moved closer, caressing my cheek. I fought the urge to jerk away. After a moment, his shadow shifted. Something rustled, then merciful solitude embraced me again.
Opening my eyes, I found the mag I’d tossed at the door sitting on the lid of a Tupperware crate.
I was sure discussions on my future continued. Just beyond my earshot.
Isleptformereminutes and awoke to Aunt Aylie sitting over me, teeth clenched. Her hair was a frizzy nest, her fuzzy bathrobe gaping as she restrained my flailing limbs.
Adrenaline twitched through my muscles as I bleared up at her, dawn breaking through the window blinds.
She brushed back my sweaty bangs. “It was only a dream.”
No, it definitely wasn’t,I thought. Because I’d been fighting for my life when she broke me from the terror—from the shadows strangling me—and it was just as painful as any other licking I’d ever taken.
“Is she all right?” Ash Loosestrife stood in the doorway, his curly black hair disarrayed. Eyes sunken in the thin light, he wore a pair of creased dockers and a zip-up sweater. His stubby hand flexed around a saber hilt.
“She’ll be fine.” Aunt Aylie flitted him away as I gripped my sheet. “Leave us.”
He grunted, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Cornelian says this door should never go unguarded.”
Huffing, Aunt Aylie barreled toward the door. “Then stand outside.” She slammed the portal in his face, then tromped back to me, arms folded.
“Have you calmed down?” she asked with much less tenderness. I’d known the compassion couldn’t last.
I nodded, still shivering.
“Good. Now that you’ve woken the whole house, I suppose it’s time to rise. When I leave, I’ll send the healer in to check your bandages, then I want you to clean up and get dressed—there’s a bathroom two doors down. Once you’re presentable, meet me in the living room. There’s much to discuss.”
The promised healer, Shasta Milfoil, a pudgy Danann elder in black calico, examined my injuries with quiet efficiency. At first, she only spoke to tell me to turn, and that I smelled hypoglycemic. After rubbing something camphoric into my battered tailbone, which felt remarkably better, she left to return with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.
I’d have bet money she was the world’s best grandmother to somebody.
While I devoured my breakfast in unrepentant piggishness, she removed the green, gooey bandage from my calf. A cookie between my lips, I contemplated my affliction. All the puncture wounds from the bat’s bite had healed. Shiny pink polka dots replaced them. Shasta pressed upon one of the dots—no pain.
She smiled at my widening eyes, her pride more than called for. “How did you do that?” I mumbled around my cookie.
“We hedge healers put a little something—extra—in our poultices, darling, to speed healing. They don’t normally work this quickly, mind you. Unless—” She trailed off, considering me.
“Unless what?”
“Unless a patient has what we call the warrior’s skin. Beyond accelerated healing, it also makes a body harder to injure—harder to kill.”
I swallowed, chocolate chips scraping my throat. “You think I have it?”
