Page 76 of Burn Her They Said
Malin lets out a breath, and I stare at him until he admits, “I took care of it.”
My eyes fall closed as he steps around to my side of the bed.
“My magic is the only undetectable?—”
“I understand why, Malin.” I look him in the eyes as I deliver the rest. “I am just sorry you were put in that position. You shouldn’t have needed to?—”
“We operate as a unit.” He peers down at me with meaning. “When any of us are out of commission, another takes over.”
“It’s what we do,” Lars adds, stepping in beside Malin.
“I just hate that it’s on your conscience.”
“And it is somehow better if it weighs on yours instead? Or that I might feel it less when it is you who does the killing?” Malin’s brow furrows and he turns to look to the wooden doors. “Someone is coming.”
I stare over in anticipation of Drusilla striding in, but all the blood drains from my face when it is Wyrth instead, medical bag in hand.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Patient
Wyrth’s Guards and Imelda flow in behind him, with each of them standing near my own protectors, aside from Varic, who squares his shoulders and steps between us.
“What is your purpose here?” Varic raises his hands before Wyrth’s chest as he tries to gain access to where I sit on the bed.
“I am to perform an examination on Imperial Grand Witch Tasch, per His Majesty’s orders,” Wyrth claims.
Varic lifts his chin to look down his nose at him. “What sort of exam?”
“Medical,” he says, unhelpfully. “Now step aside.”
“Not until you have explained in exact detail how you mean to examine her, and only if I approve of it,” Varic says.
“I am not here to harm?—”
“As I said—explain what you intend to do, then I might choose to allow you near her.”
Imelda sends a pale red tendril of resignation into Wyrth’s chest, and he releases a heavy breath before explaining his need to check my heart and lungs—a lie, as both he and Cirrin can do so without the need for equipment. No, he has brought the bag he always uses when he’s come to do a blood transfusion.
“Then you won’t be needing this,” Varic says, staring him down as he reaches for the handle, then smirks when the Philosopher’s grip tightens to stow the bag behind him.
“I am to take blood samples for examination.”
Varic’s ears burn red while the rest of him pales.
“No.” Varic’s tone is so resolute, my eyes flick down to ensure no sparks emit from his palms.
“This will be over soon enough if you will simply stand aside so I may carry out the Emperor’s orders,” Wyrth claims. “Or would you prefer he come give the command himself?”
“I would.”
Varic remains unmoved when Wyrth swipes a hand down his face. “Fine. I will take my leave to report your insolence, if you insist.”
“I do,” Varic says, gesturing for the unwelcome guest to leave at once. “Thank you.”
Imelda’s big brown eyes catch on mine, seemingly conveying a message I am unable to receive.
My lungs sting with the first deep breath to enter my chest since the maker of false promises first entered my chambers, releasing only when the hinges creak to signal his departure. Then my heart jolts as the doors do not close all the way but instead allow the entrance of my attendant.
