Chapter 156
Cora grinds a mass of lichen and fungus against the volcanic ash with methodical determination. Each scrape of her makeshift pestle against the rock resonates through the cavern, a stark reminder of just how far from civilization we really are. The concoction in the stone bowl is a sickly greenish-brown mess, bubbling slightly as she adds more ash.
I watch her work with a mix of curiosity and dread. “You know,” I say, wrinkling my nose, “that stuff looks vile.”
Cora doesn’t even glance up. “It doesn’t look nearly as bad as your leg is going to look if this infection gets any worse.”
I grimace, my gaze dropping to my swollen, mottled leg. It’s worse than I’d feared. The skin from my knee to my ankle is an angry red, blotched with darker streaks. What little mobility I had before is rapidly disappearing, replaced by an ache so deep it feels like it’s etched into my bones.
“Wanna place bets on whether we’ll get out of here before it falls off?” I joke, forcing a grin to hide my growing panic.
Cora’s glare is ice-cold. “Not funny,” she mutters before spitting directly into the poultice. The sight makes my stomach flip, and I gag slightly.
“Not nearly as fun when you do it,” I mutter, wishing for the days when my biggest worry was trying to pretend like I didn’t love Wake’s particular brand of bedside manner.
I lean back as she scoops up the sticky mixture with her fingers. “Keep complaining,” she says, a rare smirk playing at her lips as she smears the mud across the broken skin of my leg, “and I’ll find something even more unpleasant to add.”
I grit my teeth as the paste touches my skin, the burn instantaneous. It’s sharp, like needles piercing every nerve ending, and my breath hisses between my teeth. It’s nowhere near the worst I’ve felt recently, but apparently, pain receptors don’t take relevance into account.
“You sure this isn’t going to melt my leg off?”
“Positive,” she says dryly. “Although if it did, you’d probably complain less about the pain.”
Her grip tightens on my leg as she prepares to re-splint it, but her voice softens slightly. “Hold still. This is going to hurt.”
“Oh, great. Are you going to count down or—”
“You know,” she interrupts, her tone suddenly playful, “I’ve caught sharks in my bare hands that thrashed around less than you.”
I blink at her, momentarily distracted. “You wrestled a shark?”
She winks, “I could give you details, but honestly, darling, I don’t think it would be appropriate.”
The sudden mental image of Khale in flagrante delicto makes me burst out laughing. As soon as I do, she wrenches my broken leg back into the proper position, which sends fresh waves of agony shooting through me. The laugh turns into a sob, and I clutch at her arm, trying to catch my breath as she finishes tightening the splint.
Cora leans back, brushing her hands off against her pants. “All done. See? That wasn’t so bad.”
“If you say so,” I groan, wiping at my eyes. “Do you think they’re there yet?”
She purses her lips, not meeting my gaze. “I don’t think you should be going with them, Phoebe. You need to focus on resting and recovering.”
“I can rest when the world’s not ending. I would rather see what we’re up against firsthand,” I say. Besides, when I’m a force ghost, my leg doesn’t hurt.”
Cora lets out a long sigh. “Fine. But if anything goes awry, you have to return immediately and let me know. Do you understand?”
“What’s the rush?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “It’s not like we’d be able to help them from here.”
She blushes faintly and looks away. “I would just like to know.”
That look tells me all I need to know—if something happened to Wake, I’d want to be informed, too. Even if there was nothing I could do to help but pray.
I reach out, resting a hand over hers. “I will. I promise.”
Her smile is small but genuine. “Then I guess I’ll see you soon. And I expect a thorough field report when you return.”
I lie back against the cool rock, letting the darkness take me as I slip into the ether. It feels like second nature now, as easy as breathing. The light envelops me, pulling me through its shimmering expanse, and when it clears, I’m floating beside Wake once again.
He’s breathtaking in his Enkian form. His tail shimmers like liquid sapphire in the faint light of the deep ocean, his hair flowing behind him like dark ribbons in the current. He swims with a natural elegance, his body taut with focus.
“Wake,” I call softly, my voice carrying through the water.
He startles slightly, then turns to me, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re human.”
I look down at myself and realize he’s right. I appear as I do in the waking world—human, awkwardly out of place in the ocean’s depths. “That I am,” I reply, concentrating. My form shifts, my legs fusing into a tail, my skin taking on the faint iridescence of my Enkian body. “Better?”
Wake cups my cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. “Any way I can have you is perfect.”
Before I can respond, Khale swims into view, his sharp eyes scanning the water. “Is Phoebe here with us?” he asks.
Wake nods. “She’s here.”
Khale’s gaze softens slightly. “How is Cora? Is she…?”
“She’s fine,” I say quickly, wanting to ease the tension of unknowing. “Probably bored to death taking care of me.”
Instead of relaying the message, Wake stops swimming and turns to me, his eyes narrowing. “Why does she need to take care of you?”
My heart skips, and my mouth goes dry. “What? She’s my grandmother. Grandmothers look after their grandkids.”
His expression hardens. “Yours does. But why does she need to?”
Khale’s tone sharpens as he approaches. “What is she saying?”
Wake holds up a hand, his gaze still locked on me. “Cora’s fine. It’s my mate that warrants concern.”
Khale’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
Wake’s voice drops, cold and sharp. “Because she’s lying to me.”
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