19. God Save the Queen

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They were divided. Half the gang had thought that Qui'hara wouldn't survive the night, and the other half were sure that she was too strong to go so easily. After taking Austin's offer to taste his soul in a feverish haze, she had slipped under the veil, leaving them all worried. Yet the ones who believed in her strength were proved right, and when morning came they were pleased to see that she had not only survived, but had regained full consciousness as well. From there they'd had to put up a fight to keep her from leaving to pursue the Anchoress so that she could enact her revenge. Though she was through the worst and expected to make a full recovery, she still needed to rest so that she could continue to heal.

They all had their own lives to lead, and with work and other business the others had trickled away one by one. That left Myrna, who happened to be her own boss, to look over their recovering friend. She didn't mind, and she'd taken Qui'hara back to her shop so that she could attend to her own chores while still being able to keep an eye on her. Of course none of it pleased Qui'hara, who was far too proud to be taken care of, but all the same she could feel the way her gut still pained when she moved. So she stayed.

"I have no need of a new poultice," the demoness refused the fresh bandage that Myrna came in with. Even so, that didn't deter the redheaded witch from sitting beside her and changing the dressing anyway, having become used to her patient's temperament. When it was done Qui'hara sighed and touched the fresh gauze tenderly, understanding that it was the human's way to baby every injury in such a fashion. For that reason she was surprised that every little thing didn't kill them. However, regardless of her personal feelings, she knew it was only because her caretaker was concerned for her. "Thank you."

"Oh, you don't have to thank me for anything, I'm just doing what anyone else would do. Nurse Nina's going to stop by on her way home from work to check up on you, make sure I've done everything right. No sense in worrying about it, I'm sure I have-I got real good at patching my brothers up when we were kids. They were always roughhousing and getting all sorts of scrapes and cuts," Myrna stopped herself, knowing that she was rambling. Qui'hara knew that too, but it confused her to know that the enlightened one had any sort of common upbringing. From the great study she'd made of the humans over the years she'd thought it customary that someone with her gifts would have been provided a secluded and structured life from birth.

"You had brothers?" She asked, tilting her head inquisitively. Myrna thought nothing strange of it, friends asked friends those sorts of questions.

"Sure, I do. My older brother, Myron, can be as mean as a rattlesnake when he wants to be, but deep down he's just a big old pushover, kind of like Toby. I'm the middle child, and my baby brother, Malcolm, is the youngest of us all. He's more of the sensitive type, but he'd always go along with whatever schemes Myron cooked up and get himself into trouble." Remembering time with her brothers made Myrna smile, and she stayed there in her thoughts for a short while before returning. "What about you, you got any brother and sister demons running around out there?"

"In my tribe, we are all brothers and sisters." Qui'hara told her, an easy answer that took no thought. After a moment of silence she inferred that the witch wanted a more direct answer, so she gave in to the mortals prying. "There is one, a sister, she is called Zenoya."

"Is she like you? I mean, does she hunt bad demons too?"

"No, she does not. For many years Zenoya and I fought side by side in battle, but our customs were not enough for her. She lost herself, lost the truth of our ways, and left the tribe many years ago."

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