Within the Bone

XIII. A Warmth

Pain was beginning to feel normal in a way it never had before. The burns to Mara's right arm had spread up to her shoulder, perpetual now that she was channeling sorcery on a regular basis. She had fresh incision scars from Sammael's work on that arm. In order to mitigate some of the pain and improve her ability to channel, he had replaced nerves with delicate wire and bone with infernal steel. The flesh around her new modifications was still scorched and scarred, but Mara wasn't worried about being pretty at this point. With her damaged spine and slight limp, her older scars and bones that hadn't healed right, she was hardly a creature of grace or beauty.

Every evening she spent with Aallotar, who was perpetually sporting savage bruises courtesy of training with Caliban. He corrected sloppy form with blows and the wildling had spent most of her life in beast form, so moving a human body was a far newer experience. That left plenty of room for vicious correction.

There were fewer and fewer bruises and cuts every day, however. Aallotar was a quick study, mostly out of spite. Her animosity towards Caliban had not abated, though Mara wasn't sure of its root. Sammael's servant always met the huntress with flattery and a sort of hand-wringing awe.

"You are awake?" Aallotar whispered in the darkness, shifting slightly on the mattress they shared so she was facing Mara.

Most nights, even with all the pain in her body, Mara was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. It was only once in a while when the wave of homesickness hit her and kept her awake, staring upwards at the ceiling. Mara rolled onto her good side, healing arm tucked across her body. "What's wrong?" she asked in a voice thick with exhaustion. In the darkness of their little space, Mara could barely make out the outline of Aallotar's face, the gleam of eyes caught by the sliver of light coming from Sammael's study above on the opposite side of the library.

As a demon, Sammael required no sleep, no food, no drink. He spent his nights pouring over every text he could acquire that touched upon the remnants of the First World. Most treasured, kept under lock and key, were the pieces of lore he had preserved from before Godfall that described Void and the sorcery of the ancients. Mara found the idea of his presence somewhat comforting after two months of study under his tutelage. Whatever his deepest motives and intentions, her survival and improvement were his top priorities.

Aallotar brushed fingertips very gently over Mara's bandages, carefully not pressing in case it caused any extra pain. "I worry," the wildling murmured. "Always, you are hurting."

"But I'm getting better," Mara said in a gentle counter, barely able to keep her eyes open. "I'm so much stronger than I was."

"I still worry," Aallotar said.

Mara smiled at that, even with the exhaustion weighting her whole soul down. "That's because you have a good soul," she mumbled. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

Aallotar shifted again, hand resting over Mara's injured one. "What if there are hunters?"

"We've been underground for weeks without a break. I think I'll take a bit of risk for a chance to see the sun again." They'd crept out together to see the stars a few times, but winter's chill meant they were never out for long.

Sammael had presented a task for them, both a test of sorts and a necessary function. They would be going with Caliban in the morning to meet with a few treasure hunters in the nearby village of Barri, since the men from the south were rumored to be carrying goods ransacked from a ruin to the south. There was always a chance that something truly valuable might be unearthed by such adventurous types. Mara's education was finally to the point where she could be trusted with identifying such potential clues to the past.

"Fair," Aallotar conceded. She ran her fingers over Mara's brown hair, smoothing it back from her face. "Sleep."

The touch was immensely comforting, soothing away the last of the residual heartache that clung so fiercely to Mara. Truthfully, the more time she spent in study of sorcery, the more distant her old life seemed. Only Sammael, Aallotar, and Caliban seemed real after the floods and fires of agony through her body. Mara spent no effort trying to stay awake, slipping into the world of dreamless sleep.