Scars, Chapter 47

A new chapter of Scars is here! A snippet below, the full chapter in the link.

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Sie-thyne put one hand against Khy-kala’s cheek. It was an odd feeling, trusting someone again. She hadn’t trusted anyone other than Ush-Savaay since her husband had been murdered by the mob. Not any human and not any of the enclave-dwelling elves who relied on the mayflies for their beneficence. She’d known Khy-kala for only a span of days, but she could feel the other woman’s sincerity as sure as the warmth of the sun. Khy-kala would kill for her and her child and, Sie-thyne was certain, die for them as well. A most unexpected, but nonetheless welcome, ally in this stone warren of humans and schemes.“As a child, I heard stories of the Ashborn. It is comforting to know that they were not all true.”

Khy-kala smiled. “Some, though?”

“Well, the rest remain to be seen,” the apothecary teased. She paused for a moment. “An escort will be arriving shortly to take me to the healers’ wing to examine their supplies. Their questions regarding my requests have given me questions of my own. I want to see what they have and judge its quality.” Her guards had insisted that they would bring everything she required to her, but the elf had been even more insistent. The baron had been consulted and he had agreed to make the Tellian apothecarium privately available to her. “I was waiting for your arrival; would you like to come with me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Will you help me put Lotoy in his cradleboard? I can do it myself, but it is nice to have the help.” She would need to work and couldn’t carry him at the same time.

“Of course,” Khy-kala agreed, while inside Melody laughed.

She trusts you, little rabbit. Isn’t that sweet? Do you think she’d allow you anywhere near her or her child if she knew what you really were? Not just my vessel, but…. The demon didn’t need an answer; the dangling question and the flash of pain and shame it caused were all she needed to say.

Melody might be silent for days on end, save only for the story she told her host every night, but she was always there. Always ready to offer her sage advice and immortal wisdom. Always ready to twist the knife, even when Khy-kala didn’t know there was one.

And, of course, always waiting for the pain she could cause, waiting for her host to slip up just once… and waiting for that single moment of the wolf’s luck.

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