The Garnet Dagger by Andrea R. Cooper Page B

the sunlight, her short hair glowed like a golden aura around her head. Lifting up the edge or her robe she squeezed out the excess water with one hand.
    “Let me see your injury.”
    She stretched out her arm. Three fingers colored green and lined in purple.
    Wincing, my fingers pressed gingerly against her flesh. A tingling coursed through me. I stepped back, dropping her arm.
    From the escape of the torture chamber, I knew my curse. Never could I touch another. With emotion, good or ill, my power reached out, snatching
kajh
, the life essence.
    No longer would food sustain me. Death fed me.
    My shoulders slumped. Never would I taste a woman’s kiss. Liana’s pale face flooded through my mind again. Her innocent kiss had brought her destruction.
    Blinded by the past, I stomped off. After I was some distance from Celeste, I stopped.
    Built the rage within me, I punished myself with blows to my chest.
    When my anger was appeased, I gathered twigs to set Celeste’s hand. Needed binding so the bones would mend straight, I rent the edge off my silk tunic.
    At my entering, she stuffed a piece of flat bread from my pack in her mouth.
    “Didn’t think you’d need it,” she said between chews. Her cheeks plumped out from the wad of food.
    How she managed to speak with so much food crammed into her mouth was beyond me. I nodded and her eyes twinkled. She pulled out another piece.
    Kneeling in front of her, I held my hand out for her injured one. I’d covered my hand in the torn silk from my tunic so as not to touch her skin with mine. Hopefully it would help.
    Her fingers brushed mine, and I forced down the coursing ache to know her essence even through the silk barrier.
    “This will hurt.”
    “I know.” She looked paler again.
    I felt along her fingers, feeling the bump of the bones already fusing together. Three breaks. I tugged each finger and set it straight.
    Each time, she gagged but did not vomit. My hands shook, but the bones were straightened so they would heal properly. She was brave. Or perhaps she was used to such torture that this seemed bearable. I felt anger at what had been done to her flare inside my chest. Before my mind could conjure up bloody broken images of her body, I snatched up the two sticks I had gathered.
    Quickly, I set the sticks along her wrist and hand. Then wrapped the silk cloth around. Tied it off and then she set her arm across her lap. Grateful that my curse seemed satisfied with the monks I had just killed and didn’t gravitate to her
kajh
yet.
    It was too dangerous to risk a large fire, so I tossed a pile of sticks near her boulder while she continued to eat.
    Winter wind wailed at us and I saw her shiver. Gripping two sticks, I rubbed them together, hoping for a spark.
    Nothing.
    Hearing her whimper with each gust of wind, I strained three more times.
    “No use,” I said as her teeth chattered, “snows made the wood too wet.” Cursing, I brushed the fragments of the sticks off my hands. At least I could offer her dry clothes. I stalked to my pack and removed a clean tunic and trousers.
    “Here, they’ll keep you warm.” Elvin clothes, woven from threads that cooled you during the summer, and warmed you during the winter.
    Awkwardly, I set the clothes in her lap, then turned and walked off leaving her alone to change.
    I yearned to watch her, but I kept my eyes locked on the clouds skirting above.
    “Done.”
    Dressed in my cream tunic and russet trousers, I trembled to touch her. Even though her frame was far too thin, her hips curved underneath the fabric.
    Her brown robe tossed over a low limb to dry.
    Struggled in my mind over her. Bring her with me or leave her behind?
    In the end, I decided to take her to the nearest town. Make sure she fared well, and after I got the dagger back, leave. I promised myself it would only be until then and no longer, but it felt like a lie.
    “When you’re up to travel, I’d like to find rooms for us at the nearest town.”
    She tilted