Blanching, I gulped my hot chocolate, wishing they would stop talking as if I was a science experiment or slab of meat for the grill.
'I use vet-grade dissolvable sutures, myself,' Keasley said.
'Vet-grade?' I said, startled.
'No one keeps track of animal clinics,' he said absently. 'But I've heard the vein that runs the stem of a bay leaf is strong enough for fairies and pixies. I wouldn't use anything but catgut for the wing muscles, though. Want some?' He dug in his bag and put several small paper envelopes on the table. 'Consider it payment for those slips of plants.'
Matalina's wings colored a delicate rose. 'Those weren't my plants to give.'
'Yes, they were,' I interrupted. 'I'm getting fifty taken off my rent for keeping up the garden. I guess that makes it mine. But you're the ones tending it. I say that makes it yours.'
Keasley looked up from my neck. A shocked stare came over Matalina.
'Consider it Jenks's income,' I added. 'That is, if you think he might want to sublet the garden as his pay.'
For a moment there was silence. 'I think he might like that,' Matalina whispered. She shifted the small envelopes to her bag. Leaving them, she darted to the window and back again, clearly torn. Her fluster at my offer was obvious. Wondering if I had done something wrong, I looked over Keasley's paraphernalia laid out on the newspaper.
'Are you a doctor?' I asked, setting my empty mug down with a thump. I had to remember to get the recipe for this spell. I couldn't feel a thing—anywhere.
'No.' He wadded up the water and blood-soaked towels, throwing them to the floor.
'Then where did you get all this stuff?' I prodded.
'I don't like hospitals,' he said shortly. 'Matalina? Why don't I do the interior stitching and you close the skin? I'm sure your work is more even than mine.' He smiled ruefully. 'I'd wager Rachel would appreciate the smaller scar.'
'It helps to be an inch from the wound,' Matalina said, clearly pleased to have been asked.
Keasley swabbed my neck with a cold gel. I studied the ceiling as he took a pair of scissors and trimmed what I assumed were ragged edges. Making a satisfied noise, he chose a needle and thread. There was a pressure on my neck followed by a tug, and I took a deep breath. My eyes flicked to Ivy as she came in and bent close over me, almost blocking Keasley's light.
'What about that one?' she said, pointing. 'Shouldn't you stitch that first?' she said. 'It's bleeding the most.'
'No,' he said, making another stitch. 'Get another pot of water boiling, will you?'
'Four pots of water?' she questioned.
'If you would,' he drawled. Keasley continued stitching, and I counted the tugs, my gaze on the clock. The chocolate wasn't sitting as well as I would have liked. I hadn't been stitched since my ex-best friend had hidden in my school locker pretending to be a werefox. The day had ended with us both being expelled.
Ivy hesitated, then scooped up the wet towels and took them into the kitchen. The water ran, and another cry followed by a muffled thump came from my shower. 'Will you stop doing that!' came an annoyed shout, and I couldn't help my smirk. All too soon Ivy was back peering over Keasley's shoulder.
'That stitch doesn't look tight,' she said.
I shifted uncomfortably as Keasley's wrinkled brow furrowed. I liked him, and Ivy was being a bloody nuisance. 'Ivy,' he murmured, 'why don't you do a perimeter check?'
'Jenks is outside. We're fine.'
Keasley's jaw clenched, the folds of skin on his jaw bunching. He slowly pulled the green thread tight, his eyes on his work. 'He might need help,' he said.
Ivy straightened with her arms crossed and black hazing her eyes. 'I doubt that.'
Matalina's wings blurred to nothing as Ivy bent close, blocking Keasley's light.
'Go away,' Keasley said softly, not moving. 'You're hovering.'
Ivy pulled back, her mouth opening in what looked like shock. Her wide eyes went to mine, and I smiled in an apologetic agreement. Stiffening, she spun round. Her boots clacked on the wood floor in the hallway and into the sanctuary. I winced as the loud boom of the front door reverberated through the church.
'Sorry,' I said, feeling someone ought to apologize.
Keasley stretched his back painfully. 'She's worried about you and doesn't know how to show it without biting you. Either that or she doesn't like being out of control.'
'She's not the only one,' I said. 'I'm starting to feel like a failure.'
'Failure?' he breathed. 'How do you stir that?'
'Look at me,' I said sharply. 'I'm a wreck. I've lost so much blood I can't stand up. I haven't done anything by myself since I left the I.S. except get caught by Trent and made into rat chow.' I didn't feel much like a runner anymore.
'You're alive,' Keasley said. 'That's no easy trick while under an I.S. death threat.' He adjusted the lamp until it shone right in my face. I closed my eyes, starting as he dabbed a cold pad at my swollen eyelid. Matalina took over stitching my neck, her tiny tugs almost unnoticed. She ignored us with the practiced restraint of a professional mother.
'I'd be dead twice over if it wasn't for Nick,' I said, looking toward the unseen shower.
Keasley aimed the lamp at my ear. I jerked as he dabbed at it with a soft square of damp cotton. It came away black with old blood. 'You would have escaped Kalamack eventually,' he said. 'Instead, you took a chance and got Nick out as well. I don't see the failure in that.'
I squinted at him with my unswollen eye. 'How do you know about the rat fight?'
'Jenks told me on the way over.'
Satisfied, I winced as Keasley dabbed a foul-smelling liquid on my torn ear. It throbbed dully under the three pain amulets. 'I can't do anything more about this,' he said. 'Sorry.'
I had all but forgotten about my ear. Matalina flitted up to eye level, her gaze shifting from Keasley to me. 'All done,' she said in her china-doll voice. 'If you can finish up all right, I would like to, um…' Her eyes were charmingly eager. An angel with glad tidings. 'I want to tell Jenks about your offer to sublet the garden.'
Keasley nodded. 'You go right ahead,' he said. 'There's not much left but her wrist.'
'Thanks, Matalina,' I offered. 'I didn't feel a thing.'
'You're welcome.' The tiny pixy woman darted to the window, then returned. 'Thank you,' she whispered before vanishing through the window and into the dark garden.
The living room was empty but for Keasley and me. It was so quiet, I could hear the lids popping on the pots of water in the kitchen. Keasley took the scissors and cut the soaked cotton off my wrist. It fell away, and my stomach roiled. My wrist was still there, but nothing was in the right place. No wonder Jenks's pixy dust couldn't stop it from bleeding. Chunks of white flesh were lumped into mounds, and little craters were filled with blood. If my wrist looked like that, what had my neck looked like? Closing my eyes, I concentrated on breathing. I was going to pass out. I knew it.
'You've made a strong ally there,' he said softly.
'Matalina?' I held my breath, trying not to hyperventilate. 'I can't imagine why,' I said as I exhaled. 'I've continually put her husband and family at risk.'
'Mmmm.' He put Ivy's pan of water on his knees and gently lowered my wrist into it. I hissed at the bite of the water, then relaxed as the pain amulets dulled it. He prodded my wrist and I yelped, trying to jerk away. 'You want some advice?' he asked.
'No.'
'Good. Listen anyway. Looks to me like you've become the leader here. Accept it. Know it comes with a price. People will be doing things for you. Don't be selfish. Let them.'
'I owe Nick and Jenks my life,' I said, hating it. 'What's so great about that?'
'No, you don't. Because of you, Nick no longer has to kill rats to stay alive, and Jenks's life expectancy has nearly doubled.'
I pulled away, and this time he let me go. 'How do you figure that?' I said suspiciously.
