Page 17 of The Garnet Daughter (The Viridian Priestess #3)

Chapter

Fourteen

I lay my face against the cold side of the cargo hull wall, waiting for August to make his way to the safe house hangar.

He stays on the comm the entire walk from the Estate, narrating as he weaves through the city and commenting on the strange people he sees.

All the while making me check in every few minutes to keep me talking, as if he thinks I am dying.

If my arm wasn’t burning as if freshly scorched, then maybe I could fold him here, but he was already headed to the landing docks, planning to stay on the fleet ship to give me space.

Finally, the door whirls to life and descends into a ramp, August commanding it from just outside. He practically sprints up the metal incline before it’s fully down.

“Here!” he shouts, out of breath like he ran most of the distance.

“The Frithian herbs have worn off.” I raise my exposed wound, wincing as he places gentle palms under it to help hold it, and the pain goes all the way up to my shoulder.

His eyes are wide as they run the length. “By the three worlds, Calliape, I had no idea it was this bad.”

“It’s infected. If I’m not feverish, I will be soon.”

He guides me to a seat wordlessly and begins rummaging through a locker in the smooth walls of the hull. It illuminates in a cold blueish light, boxes with Viathan symbols neatly stacked.

“After all the injuries we had on Frith, I made sure to stock up on a wider selection of medicines and anything else I could think of. Not quite a Viathan med bay, but this will get us started.” He fills his arms with the metal boxes, balancing the stack as he folds down a high metal table from the wall to spread them out on.

“I need a salve for the pain. What do you have for infections?” I clarify because he looks overwhelmed.

He turns the packages over and mumbles to himself, then rips into a long, slender one. “Alright, this is for infections. I also have a cream for burns somewhere.”

“Good.” I look to him expectantly, wondering the reason for his sudden hesitation.

“It’s an injection. I’ve had one before, helps with pain too.” His eyes flick down to my wound.

“Injection?”

“It’s a hollow needle, sends medication under your skin.” He smiles flatly.

The long cylinder is massive, the width of a healthy twig, one not able to snap easily for a fire.

I don’t know what I expected. Of course the Viathan meds would not be herbs and teas like the ones I am used to.

They are packaged in strange boxes and invasive in their delivery, but I am past the point of relying on my body to fight to heal this wound.

“Does it hurt?“ I stand to get a better view.

“Well, the needle is small, but it bruises the surrounding muscle.” He shifts on his feet nervously. “The injection sight is the butt . . . ocks.”

I huff but his face is serious, if not a little uneasy. “You will have to explain it better so I can do this myself.”

“Right. So this goes against bare skin, the muscle.” He pats his own backside and then demonstrates with the tube. “Push into the . . . tissue with this side and then press on this button with your thumb.”

“I’m to inject this into my ass when I have a wound on my arm?” I ask flatly.

“Yes.” His smile is shy and won’t meet my eyeline as he hands me the heavy injection cylinder, then turns to face the wall. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but it does.”

I lean on the supply table and pull down the hem on my pants.

“On a . . . soft spot,” he says to the wall, shuffling on his feet. “Hold the button for ten counts.”

I take a deep breath, feeling the hard end of the medicine against my skin, and my heart instantly starts pumping faster. Anticipating more pain, one I am not familiar with, is too much, and suddenly I don’t care who administers the injection as long as it’s not me.

“I can’t.” I hold it up to him, tapping it on the back of his arm. “Can you?”

“Of course.” He turns so slowly, his movements stiff as he takes it from my hand. “But just so you’re aware, I will have to see what I’m doing.”

“Do it, August!”

I catch his sly smile before I turn away and internally groan.

“This needs to come down more.” His fingertips brush across my already low waistband. “You had it too close to your hip bone.”

I nod and close my eyes.

“Perfect,” he mumbles to himself as he pulls down my pants just a little more, holding the edge, a strange attempt at politeness.

“What?”

“Nothing. Ready?” His voice is lower, like he is on his knees behind me.

I want this to be over with. “Yes!”

“One. Two. Thr . . .” He stops to adjust his aim against my skin.

“Do it— Fuck!” I’m cut off by a venomous sting. The jolt of it would have made me fall forward if he wasn’t holding onto my thigh so tightly.

“Hold still,” he commands and whisper counts enough for the medicine to enter.

I hold onto the metal table, gulping down deep breaths, the sensation of hot liquid spreading under my skin from the injection site dissipating as fast as it came.

“Done,” he whispers right behind my ear.

When I turn to face him, pulling up my waistband and fastening it as if this is normal, he looks a little flustered, shuffling the medicines around on the table and checking the backs but clearly pretending to read the words.

“That was awful,” I admit, realizing it was enough to temporarily distract from the throbbing pain of my burn.

“I’m sorry. Let’s take care of that now. Hop up.” He dramatically pushes the pile of boxes on the table back with a sweep of his arm, clearing it for me to sit.

“I can do this part.” I struggle to climb onto the tall tabletop while only able to use one hand.

August stands so close, my knees brush against his hip as he leans to retrieve the gauze. “Oh, can you?” He smiles, watching me through his dark lashes, then proceeds to read the instructions printed on the tube of cream, allowing me to awkwardly settle onto the table in peace.

“Thank you for helping me,” I mutter, noting how miserable the pain is making me.

He takes my hand in his and holds it out with surprising tenderness, opening the cap with his teeth. “Alright, this should take care of whatever is happening on the outside. The injection will probably make you sleepy, and I doubt it’s the last one you will need.”

I groan aloud at the thought of going through this again.

“The ship Ferren and 99 are staying on has a med bay.”

“I don’t want to involve them.”

The cream is clear and lifeless compared to the bright green paste from Ruth’s apothecary, and when he streaks it across the wound, it leaves a greasy, thick cast.

“Bad time to let an infection make you so sick you can’t do anything but stay in bed,” he teases as he begins slowly wrapping the long gauze around my arm.

“Fine.”

He smiles like he has won something. “Nothing we haven’t been through before. You were nicer last time though.” He bites the end of the bandage to tear it.

“Careful!” I try to pull my arm away, but he grasps my hand tighter.

“Relax.”

One of his more surprising attributes came out right after my injury from the incident in the grand hall, when the highest priestess attempted to block our departure.

Ferren and 99 had each other and were processing in their own way, but August did not leave my side.

I did not expect him to take care of me the entire trip from Cosima to Viathan.

He acted like I was on my death bed, even though I was only bruised with a small cut on my cheek.

Almost lost his wits whenever I would try to walk around the ship and stretch my legs.

It was as cute then as it is now. But this time he is matching some of my prickliness with self-amusing sass.

“It’s not burning anymore,” I relay, rubbing at the edges of the bandage and holding my forearm close to my chest.

“Good.” He flashes a smug grin at me as he collects the discarded waste, then clears his throat. “So, Selene and you?”

“She’s angry with me,” I answer quickly, not sure how much of our conversation he heard. “About speaking with the elders of Frith, but she is mostly afraid the order knows too much about my gifts.”

“I thought you did well in that council meeting. I have not been to many on Viathan, but they were not nearly as strange as this one,” he says with his back to me, stretching to the top shelf to return what we didn’t use.

“It was not an easy thing to do, going before them and explaining yourself, statement or not. She should take that into consideration.”

“You should tell her that,” I tease.

He turns to face me with a wicked grin. “I have many things I could tell her.”

I study his features, searching for any indication he heard Selene urging me to confess to Ferren the truth of the spell used that day in the temple. I want to explain what happened to him, but the words turn to ash in my mouth and sour my stomach with the chance of losing any of them.

I fidget with the side of the hem of my bandage when he goes quiet again. “It has also reignited Selene’s overbearing nature. She practically demanded I stay in the safe house with her.”

There is a long pause between us, one that hangs in the air and builds on the tension. I can sense him wanting to start a few sentences before he finally says, “You can obviously stay here for as long as you want.”

“You don’t mind sharing the space with me again?” I hedge because asking him to stay with me seems like too much.

He shakes his head. “I will let Ferren and 99 know you are tired and we can go to their med bay tomorrow, speak of the council meeting and such things.”

I thank him and try to push past the almost awkward pressure filling the room. We have been on this ship alone together more times than I can remember, but for reasons I’m unsure of, this time it feels different.

He must realize it too, because he starts busying himself and avoiding my direction as he taps through a data pad. “I’ve already been tasked to repair some electrical systems on the defensive line around the city.”