Marina shook her head. “As long as they make you happy, they’re welcome here, too.”
Dammit! Rivka thought. That bird would be the death of her, and now it was staying inside the house with them.
“You’re not afraid of a little bird, are you?” Andrei teased her. He brandished the broom as if it were a sword. “I shall protect you if he threatens your life again.”
Rivka pushed his broom back to the floor. “I can fight my own battles, rogue.”
Lesya eased down onto the bed, her face pale. The puffins burrowed into the various nooks and crannies made by her arms and head. “I think the adrenaline is wearing off.”
Rivka whirled on Marina. “Do you think you can heal her broken leg? And the burns?”
Marina nodded gravely. “The jellyfish stings aren’t an issue. We’ll use the elixir as a poultice, and you’ll all be good as new in the morning. But her leg... I’ll have to set her leg. It won’t be the most pleasant experience.”
“Do it.” Lesya closed her eyes.
“Very well.” Marina leaned over the bed to roll Lesya’s torn pants up as high as she could get them.
Lesya’s leg was mottled black and blue from her foot to above her knee.
Rivka backed away, using the wall to support her weak knees. It was one thing to know her friend had a broken leg and had been through hell with it, but seeing it made it way too real.
“Andrei,” Marina spoke as she poked at Lesya’s calf, “could you go to the workshop and grab the jar labeled ‘white oak bark’? Our girl is going to need pain relief.”
Without a word, Andrei ducked from the room.
Marina continued to poke around on Lesya’s leg until she cried out and bucked on the bed.
Marina nodded. “That spot hurts?”
“Like hell.”
“Good. I think the break is clean.” She placed a hand under Lesya’s heel and another on top of her foot. “Take a deep breath.”
No longer able to watch, Rivka turned her head away.
Lesya screamed, the sound so raw, it turned Rivka’s skin to ice.
“Breathe, Lesya,” Marina said gently. “We’re not done yet.”
A warm presence appeared beside Rivka, both filling her with comfort and setting her nerves on edge.
Andrei set a jar of white powder on the bedside stand and then took Rivka by the elbow. “Thirsty?”
She could only nod.
He steered her away from the painful scene. They returned to the kitchen, where he helped himself to a glass from the cabinet. He filled it up in the sink, and the rush of the water helped soothe Rivka.
She hadn’t realized her hands had balled into fists until gentle fingers pried open one for her glass.
“You need to relax,” Andrei said softly. “Marina knows what she’s doing. She’ll fix her right up.”
Lesya screamed again. Rivka tensed, ready to bolt back to the mage’s side, but the sound abruptly cut off.
Rivka gasped, jerking so hard she splashed water over her arm.
That same gentle hand massaged Rivka’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. She probably passed out.”
His fingers dug into her sore muscles. Rivka bit the inside of her lip to keep from groaning in pleasure. If he was trying to distract her from Lesya’s plight, he was doing a great job.
The water went down surprisingly cool as Rivka took a drink to wet her throat. She downed the rest of it and moved to the sink to fill up the glass again.
“This is all my fault,” Rivka said into her glass before downing it for the second time. Once empty, she set the glass on the counter.
“What?” Andrei asked, but Rivka had already slipped back into the bedroom, intent on checking on her friend and getting away from Andrei before she explained herself. She didn’t owe him anything. He didn’t need to know her life story just because he’d massaged her shoulders for five seconds.
Or saved their lives.
Light snores carried from the bed. Lesya and the puffins were in the same place Rivka had left them. Already, the mage was looking better. Her color had improved, and her breathing was much less shallow.
The skin on her once-broken leg now looked smooth and unbroken; plus, the bruises were gone. Her foot pointed in the right direction, no longer flopping to the side. Marina had done exactly what she promised—she set Lesya’s leg, then healed it completely.
Relief washed over Rivka like a cool rag on a fevered forehead. “Thank you so much for healing her.”
Marina was bent over Lesya’s sleeping form, spreading a thicker version of the anti-venom on the mage’s arms. She’d already covered her legs and feet with the gloop.
“Don’t thank me yet.” Marina straightened to address them. Her gray hair now fell from the bun, and her eyes looked tired. She dipped out another dollop of the anti-venom and began dabbing it on Rivka’s face. “We still need to discuss payment.”
“I...I don’t have much,” Rivka stammered. “Everything we had was left on the pirate ship.”
Marina tsked, her soft fingers spreading the poultice down Rivka’s neck. “You have plenty.” The mage touched a scale nestled among the others on her wrist. “All I require is but a single scale.”
“One of my scales?” Rivka’s heart pounded at the thought. She glanced at Viktor and Andrei for help. Viktor looked genuinely confused by the request, but Andrei avoided her gaze. Snake. “But… I need all of my scales. They may not look like much, but they’re like a bird’s feathers. If not preened right, flying is difficult. My scales help me swim and keep me warm.”
“Yes, a siren’s scales are priceless. I’m well-aware,” Marina agreed evenly as she covered Rivka’s arm in the anti-venom. The old woman finally looked up into Rivka’s eyes. “But how much is your friend’s well-being worth?”
This is all my fault. Rivka’s own words echoed in her head.
She held out her wrist.
16
Lesya
Lesya opened her eyes to the early dawn light of morning.
She stretched luxuriously. It felt like ages since she’d slept on a real bed with real blankets and pillows. She startled as she realized her broken leg was moving beneath the covers alongside her good one.
She whipped off the blankets, earning some irritated chirps from the gaggle of puffins cuddled around her torso. She wiggled her toes and rotated her ankles, then gently bent her knees.
Everything was in order. She didn’t even have any bruising. Plus, all of the jellyfish burns were gone. Her arms and neck felt soft and supple, as if they'd gone through an intense moisturizing regime.
“Wow,” Lesya said out loud. The mage had some serious power. Lesya couldn’t even remember her name.
She scooted to the edge of the bed and stood without a twinge of pain. Her clothes waited for her on a chair near the bed, clean and dry, if a little worse for the wear. Lesya dressed easily, marveling at how great she felt.
She'd shattered her leg and then almost died less than twenty-four hours ago, yet she felt strong enough to climb a mountain.
She wondered if Marina had ever considered taking on an apprentice...
Most of the puffins bounced off the bed and followed after her as she left the bedroom in her bare feet. She followed the unintelligible mumble of voices and the smell of brewing coffee to a small kitchen at the back of the house.
The mage sat at a crude wooden table with a mug. Andrei-the-rogue-siren lounged in a chair across from her, paging through a newspaper. He glanced up, noting the trail of five puffins joining her with obvious amusement.
“Ah, you’re awake!” the mage said with a smile that folded wrinkles around her eyes. She didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the army of birds in her kitchen. “Can I get you some coffee? I have bacon and eggs warming in the oven.”
“Coffee would be wonderful,” Lesya admitted. “But you don’t have to serve me. Where are your mugs?”
“Oh, pish.” The mage waved Lesya towards the table. “Res
t, girl. It’s not every day I have visitors.”
“It’s no use arguing with the old woman,” Andrei said without looking away from his newspaper. “She’ll win. And she’ll spell you in the process.”
Lesya relented and took a chair facing the open window. The morning outside looked beautiful with a bright sun and the musical twitter of birdsong. The breeze that rustled the sheer curtains felt warmer than usual for the season. Not that she would complain about a warm day after a treacherous six hours drowning and swimming in polar runoff.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t remember your name,” Lesya said as the mage sat a mug on the table before her. Under the table, multiple puffin butts plopped down on her feet.
“Marina, dear. Do you take cream and sugar?”
“Cream. Please,” she added, realizing she was falling into her habit of speaking in short, clipped statements. Not that she disliked that habit. She just didn’t want Marina to think she was being rude.
The mage bustled out the open back door, presumably for cream, whether that meant an outdoor ice box or straight from the cow’s teat. From the looks of the garden overflowing in the backyard, Lesya had a feeling the mage’s cream came hot from the cow.
“Where’s Rivka? And Viktor?” Lesya asked the silent siren.
“Sleeping. You guys had a rough day yesterday.” He turned a page. “I’d sleep in, too.”
“Thanks for coming to our rescue. I know Rivka didn’t exactly roll out the welcome mat, but I’m sure she appreciated it, too.”
“She would probably appreciate it more if I were gone when she woke up.” He met her gaze with a smile to show he was joking.
“Well. Regardless.”
Marina strolled back into the kitchen carrying a glass jar of milk. “Here you go, dear. Bacon and eggs?”
Lesya nodded. “Please.”
She had already tucked ravenously into her plate of breakfast by the time Viktor made his appearance. He wore his same shirt, vest, and black pants, but like Lesya, was barefoot because his boots now lived at the bottom of the ocean.
Finding new boots in the middle of nowhere would be a pain in the ass.
He sat beside her at the table and touched her thigh briefly. “Feeling okay?”
Lesya’s mouth was full of eggs, so she just nodded.
“I slept like a rock. Do you bespell the beds?” Viktor joked to Marina.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” the old mage teased. “Coffee and breakfast?”
“Yes, ma’am. That would be great.”
“All of your burns are gone,” Lesya said, pointing her fork at his bare forearms. “How do you feel?”
“Great, actually. Clear headed. Ready to run a marathon. On land.” He winked and thanked Marina for his mug of coffee.
“Funny, me too.” Lesya washed down her food with the last slug of her coffee. “Marina is true magic. I feel better than I ever have.”
“Oh, you both just stop that. An old woman like me has practiced a long time to get this good.” But she beamed at the compliment as she carried Viktor’s breakfast to the table.
By the time Rivka stumbled sleepily from her bedroom, Viktor had polished off his plate of food and Lesya was already on her third mug of coffee.
The siren moved slower and with less energy than Lesya and Viktor had upon waking. Lesya eyed her, looking for signs that she was sick or injured. Marina healed her, too? Right?
Rivka glared at Andrei—who had chosen to remain hidden behind his newspaper—and sat in the only available chair beside him. As she placed her elbows on the table, Lesya caught sight of bandages wrapped around her forearm, peeking from beneath the sleeve of her shirt.
Lesya reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. “What is this? Are you okay? Did Marina miss an injury?”
Rivka gently extracted her wrist from Lesya’s grasp and offered a wan smile. “I’m fine. Marina healed me. It’s nothing.” The siren glanced at Marina and gave a small shake of her head.
“What’s wrong?” Lesya argued.
“I am fine,” Rivka snapped. “I’m hungry though.”
Lesya returned her hand to her lap, taken aback by the siren’s crabby attitude. She’d awoken a few mornings by Rivka’s side in the short time they’d been together, and the siren had never been anything but chipper. Obnoxiously so.
She was hiding something. Something to do with that bandage.
Lesya decided not to press — for now. With Rivka’s current grouchiness, pressing would likely mean getting her head bit off.
Rivka jumped and looked under the table. “Ah! Get! Shoo!”
Lesya reached under the table and snapped her fingers, calling the puffins to her side. “Fork really thinks you taste good.”
Rivka made a face. “What are they even doing here? It’s crazy they found you.”
As she spoke, two more puffins waddled in the back door, chirping happily at the sight of Lesya. They picked up the pace, feathery butts shaking all the way to Lesya’s lap.
“And two more makes seven,” Viktor said with a laugh. “I thought witches were supposed to be crazy cat ladies.”
Lesya petted the newcomers, Porkchop and Shrimp. Just having the small group of her larger puffin family with her was a comfort. “I’m not your typical witch.”
Viktor chuckled. “I’m starting to understand that.”
Lesya continued to chat with the pirate, surprised at how easily they came up with topics to discuss. Nothing he said felt contrite or meaningless. On the contrary, Lesya found herself lost in his words.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the table, silence stretched between the two sirens. Lesya had hoped Rivka would let go of the whole “rogue” thing after a good night’s sleep. Either she was even grouchier than Lesya had previously guessed, or she hadn’t forgotten.
That was going to make for a tense visit.
Mid-morning, Rivka retired to her room for a nap, and Andrei declared he was going for a swim. Marina excused herself to do some weeding in her backyard garden, leaving Lesya and Viktor alone at the table with the puffins.
Viktor moved his hands as Turnip leapt onto his knees. The puffin nuzzled his hand, then primly settled down on his thigh. He petted the bird’s head. “They’re kinda cute, aren’t they?”
“They all have personalities, too.” Lesya blushed as she realized she probably sounded like a crazy person. “Um, I’m going to go talk to Marina and see if she can help us find this dumb stone. Do you want to come?”
Viktor glanced at the sleepy puffin in his lap and then assessed the contents of his mug. “I’ll finish my coffee and let this little guy sleep. Catch up on the news.” He nodded at Andrei’s abandoned newspaper.
Lesya grinned. “They already have you wrapped around their feathers.”
As she stood to leave, Viktor grabbed her hand and tugged her close. He guided her down so he could kiss the edge of her lips, not quite a sexy mouth-on-mouth kiss, but just close enough to send her heart into cardiac arrest.
“I’m glad you’re alive,” he said, releasing her hand.
With her heartbeat in her throat, Lesya said breathlessly, “Ditto.”
She left the cool comfort of the kitchen for the beautiful day outside, though Viktor’s phantom kiss remained firmly on her skin. The grass in Marina’s backyard was much softer than the dead straw that splotched Lesya’s own plot of land. She figured it indicated Marina bespelled the yard to be beautiful, or the curse had yet to infiltrate this part of the country.
Marina crouched on her hands and knees in the overgrown garden. At the rustle of Lesya’s footsteps, Marina sat back on her heels and tilted her large, floppy hat aside. She smiled. “Hello, dear. Everything alright?”
“Don’t stop working. Can I help?”
Marina nodded and bent back over her vegetables. “Of course. It’s nice to have company for once that isn’t my sullen siren godson.”
Lesya stepped over the three puffins crowded around her feet and joined Mari
na in the freshly turned soil. “Godson?”
“Ah, yes. From a very long time ago. I promised his mother I’d care for him after… Well. That’s not my story to tell.” She smiled sadly. “Here, let me show you what weeds to pull.”
Lesya listened intently to the mage’s breakdown of invasive weeds. She decided she liked the sound of the woman’s voice and could have sat there all day learning from her.
“What brings you kids to my remote neck of the woods?” Marina asked after they’d been comfortably working for a few minutes.
Lesya yanked a particularly stubborn weed from beneath a tomato cage. “That’s a long story.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
So Lesya broke down the events of the past week, from Rivka’s appearance to their journey to Nordvik Bay and ending up on the pirate ship. She told the old witch about being prisoners in the hold - where Rivka found the sealed letter - and how they scried for the location of the stone. And then, how the cyclone nearly sunk the ship and killed them all, and finally, the captain who had thrown them overboard.
“We’d be dead if it weren’t for Andrei,” Lesya finished, wiping the back of her dirty hand across her forehead before sweat could get in her eyes.
“Andrei is a good man. A good siren,” Marina corrected herself. “I know your friend seems to be wary of him. For good reason, it seems?”
“Something about rogue sirens being banished murderers.”
Marina laughed. “If Andrei has ever murdered another living thing in cold blood, I’ll eat my socks. He is a good soul, truly. He takes care of this old woman.”
“I can’t imagine someone who would put himself in danger to rescue two humans and a stubborn siren would be a bad man,” Lesya agreed.
Marina tugged a patch of half-dug weeds away from her squash vines, then rearranged her legs to sit directly in the dirt. She stared into the distance, her eyes narrowed in thought. “Now, this stone you mentioned. I seem to recall a legend from my childhood. Bear with me. My memory isn’t as sturdy as it once was. I heard tell of a meteorite crashing into that big mountain there.” She pointed over Lesya’s shoulder.
Sordid Depths (The Cursed Seas Collection) Page 11
