Page 65 of For the Strange and Surprising

I point at them both, stubborn and stern. “I want to know more about where these things are happening.”

Then I turn on my heel and rush toward Imryll. I can tell how exhausted he is by the way he’s leaning his back against the wall. Dark circles mar the skin under his dull green eyes. The left corner of his lips tilt up when he sees me.

“Can I ask you one more favor?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“The woman in the operating room had the worst injuries of the group. She’s stable, but I still need to reset her fibula and put a splint on her leg before I can start stitching her up properly.”

I nod along, but I’m not sure what he’s asking of me. “For just a second, pretend that I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. Tell me what I need to know.”

“Raf calls it a compound fracture. Her leg is broken just above her ankle, and part of her bone is sticking out of the skin. I’ve attended to her other injuries, gotten them stitched up enough to hold the wounds together, but I’ll have to come back to them.

“Right now, I need to put her to sleep. I’m telling you this so you don’t react to what you see. She’s scared, and I’d like for you to talk to her until she’s unconscious.”

“I can do that,” I assure him.

Imryll pushes away from the wall and takes a deep breath, masking his fatigue. He gives me a half-grin, half-grimace before he shows me to the operating room.

I’m so thankful for the warning.

I would have gasped in shock, at the very least.

The woman lies flat on her back, staring at the ceiling as she heaves lungfuls of air. Tears stream down her cheeks, and my eyes flood at the sight, spilling over my lashes. She’s terrified, and it makes my heart ache.

From chest to knees, she’s covered with a sheet, but it’s speckled with growing red spots. Her right arm is sliced from her elbow to her shoulder, disappearing behind her back. And Imryll’s words finally click. He’s got her stitched up enough to hold her together, but they can’t stay like this. He’ll have to fix them when he finishes with her leg.

I don’t dare look down at the rest of her body. I won’t be able to school my expressions, and the last thing she needs is to see me lose my shit.

“Sera, this is Ada,” Imryll calmly explains. “She’s going to keep us company.”

I smile at her, hoping I seem relaxed and sound soothing. I understand how essential a distraction can be, so I dive right in.

“I hope you don’t mind, Sera, but I’m not one for small talk. What do you think about the stars? I haven’t gotten to see them since I’ve been here.” I sigh wistfully. “I bet they’re amazing, though.”

Imryll sets up another bag on her surprisingly Earth-like IV. When I know I won’t be in his way, I move to her side and grip her hand, careful not to jar her arm.

“The stars are plentiful but hard to see from the village,” she softly replies.

“Have you seen them from the shore? I think that would be peaceful; to lie in the sand, listening to the waves as you gaze at the stars.”

Sera rolls her head to glance at me, her eyelids drooping as she flashes me a dopey smile. “Water will always be a Mongrel’s peace. The lake beguiles, the river entices, but the ocean lures.”

Those last three words… They remind me of the shimmering purple monstrosity I cast into the gulf, waiting for some massive fish to swallow it up. I compared myself to that overwhelming feeling, and man, was that accurate.

The ocean lures.

As she drifts to sleep, I release her hand, placing it against her side on the table. It’s then that I notice the wound on her arm is closed. The stitches hang loosely where her skin has knitted back together, and what should have been a thick pink scar is nothing but a thin line.

I start seeking out Sera’s other wounds. “How fast should she be healing?”

“The lacerations will take a few days to close.” Imryll bounces his head as if contemplating the rest of his response. “Her leg will take a few weeks.”

“Imryll?” I stress his name to get a sliver of his attention. “Her arm is fine now. How is she improving so quickly?”

His eyes snap to mine before he spies the dangling stitches. Then he begins frantically examining her body.

“That’s not right,” he mutters to himself, rushing to the end of the table. He wraps his hand around her foot and stares at me. “Ada, put your fingers in your ears.”