The window to her room, left cracked open to allow an easy return, stood about twelve feet up from the alley stones where Kiri craned stood, staring upwards with sinking dread. The wall she normally climbed with ease seemed to loom higher than ever. The wound on her leg was bound up in her tunic. If she’d been wearing her usual dress, apron, and underclothes, she would have had plenty of spare fabric to fashion a bandage, but in her simple costume she was forced to make a dearer sacrifice.

The stars were already beginning to fade in the subtly brightening sky. If some early riser happened by, they would not be likely to overlook her. Kiri would make quite a sight, bloody and topless, still wearing her Firebrand mask.

There was no more time to gather her courage. Kiri backed slowly away from the wall, flinching and dragging her right leg. It hadn’t really hurt at first, but now it was screaming with every movement. Kiri blew out a slow breath and steeled herself to run at the wall. Muscle memory won over pain and she went right up the wall and swung into her room with as much ease as ever.

It wasn’t so easy after that. Her leg gave out and left her crumpled on the floor under the window, biting her hand to keep from screaming. She looked at the makeshift bandage on her leg. It was dark and wet with blood. Clearly she needed to do something about this before anyone else got up. It would be impossible to explain away a knife wound. Kiri half-crawled to her nightstand, putting as little strain on her wound as she could manage. She found extra stockings and a needle and thread in the top drawer; they would do. Gritting her teeth, she dragged herself around until she was sitting leaning against the bed. She seemed to have used herself running all the way here from the docks; now the smallest movement took great effort.

With eyes squinted shut as if that would keep her from seeing just how nasty the wound really was, Kiri took the bandage off her leg. It didn’t gush blood, but neither had it stopped. Kiri couldn’t help gasping as she used the dry part of her shirt to mop up her leg a little. Her eyes flicked up to Karey, sure the noise would wake the other woman. But Karey just sighed and turned over. Luckily, she was a heavy sleeper. If Kiri could keep it down, there was a chance she’d even sleep through the next part.

Sewing the wound together was...nightmarish--one of the experiences in life that is not lived, just mechanically endured. Kiri’s cheeks were wet with tears, and her lower lip was raw from chewing on it, by the time she was done. But she was done. Bound up in her stocking, it didn’t even look that bad.

Kiri slit the leg of her trousers from top to bottom rather than pull it off. The idea of yanking it over the wound was nauseating, and the trousers were ruined anyway. Soon she was dressed in her nightgown and the mess and the remnants of her Firebrand costume were cleared up. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she went to dump the costume in her laundry hamper. Her face was white as a sheet and her limp was pronounced. All her efforts of binding her wound herself, would be pointless if she couldn’t hide her wound better than that. She needed an explanation for the limp and for being so obviously unwell. The sky out the window showed that it was early, but a reasonable hour to get up. Before she could think better of it, Kiri walked out into the hall and threw herself down the stairs.

~

"It was definitely her,” Neal said.

He and Markus were sitting in a small, glistening rock chamber, lit by a single torch wedged in between two stalagmites. A pool dominated the room, perfectly doubling the glistening walls and ceiling on the mirror of its surface. It was almost like being inside of a crystal. Markus was stripped to the waist, and Neal carefully applied a gooey salve to the long, red, spidery marks that spread from Markus’s elbow to his collarbone. Neal was the only one who knew the Firebrand’s touch had injured Markus. The rest of the crew had been dazzled enough to buy the explanation that she had escaped only because of her speed.

“We have to get rid of her,” Markus answered, gesturing at his burns with his opposite arm. “I must be untouchable.”

“But she’s bound to be on her guard after this,” Neal said. “She won’t walk into a trap unawares again.”

“A person doesn’t have to be unaware to walk into a trap,” Markus said. “We know who she is, or rather we can easily learn. We can enquire in the village about the women who were attacked at the Standing Stones. We are sure to learn something from the villagers that we can use to ensnare her.”

“That looks like it hurts,” Mala observed as she hovered nervously over Kiri’s swollen foot. Kiri was laying on the bench in the Leaning Pillar’s kitchen, her injured foot propped up on the table in front of her. The rhythm of Karey kneading bread on the other side of the table brought little stabs of pain to both the foot and the knife wound in the same leg. Unfortunately, she had overestimated her ability to control her tumble down the stairs, which in retrospect she should have expected with that knife wound. But the goal had been to explain her limp, and her bruised and swollen foot was doing that beautifully. And it was the right foot, too, so Kiri mentally congratulated herself on what had been quick thinking under pressure.

“Of course it hurts,” Kiri said through gritted teeth, deciding to make advance plans for such contingencies in future. The leg had hurt enough without the foot added in.

“I hope it won’t keep you down long. I mean, it must be awful for you.” Mala said.

Kiri narrowed her eyes at Mala. She could tell her friend had come down to the inn with something on her mind. The injury had distracted her, but there was no way she’d have bothered coming into town so early in the morning unless she had some important business with Kiri.

Mala tucked her hair behind her ear, avoiding Kiri’s eye. “Perhaps we should get the doctor down.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kiri said, keeping her gaze on Mala’s face, waiting to catch her eye. “I can’t afford a doctor, anyway.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Perhaps Lord Westfall would cover it. I hear he’s taken an interest in you.”

“Ah ha!” Kiri said. “I knew it had to be something. You’re here fishing for an invitation to the manor!”

Mala finally met Kiri’s gaze. Her eyes blazed with excitement and she leaned both hands on the table by Kiri’s hurt foot. “You’ve got to get me in there! A private dinner at the manor...you know I’ve been dreaming of that my whole life!”

“I thought you’d been dreaming of the palace in the capital,” Kiri said.

Mala straightened up and waved a hand dismissively. “A noble woman’s life. It was a mix-up of nature that I wasn’t born to it, you know that, Kiri. I mean, look at me.” She gestured to herself. As always, she was stunning. Kiri didn’t have any trouble imagining her in a noble woman’s rich clothes.

Kiri laughed. “You may be right, Mala,” she said. “But I’ve only been in the manor once. I don’t think I’m supposed to bring guests.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mala said. “They’ll be thrilled to meet me, and forgive the slight indiscretion.”

Karey cleared her throat. “If you’re wanting an invitation, just stick around. Gilliam’s sure to come swooping in once he hears Kiri is laid up. Make some eyes at him, and you’ll get whatever you want. He invited Kiri up to the manor.”

Kiri was indignant. “Wha--I didn’t...”

Mala tapped one finger on her lips, musing, then broke into a smile. “That works. I’m good at making eyes.” She pulled up a chair and sat down opposite Kiri. “I’m going to be a good friend and keep you company,” she said.

“Knead this dough and make yourself useful if you’re staying,” Karey said. “I’m doing the work of two here.”

Mala took over kneading without complaint. She liked to talk about being meant for nobility, but she was used to work. She chatted to Kiri as she prepared the bread, kneading each loaf with practiced hands and setting it to rise on the shelves by the stove. The work was mechanical, second-nature, and left her free to catch Kiri up on all the doings of the lower village and the farms. Garon, being a man, hadn’t told Kiri any of the juicy gossip, so there was plenty to talk about.

“So where’ve you been?” Kiri asked when the conversation hit a lull. “I thought you were going to be coming down to see me more.”

“I’ve been spending time with Jan,” Mala said.

“What?” Kiri pulled herself up so she could see Mala’s face better. “Marta and Eric’s son? That Jan?”

“He’s quite strong, you know,” Mala said.

“Ok,” said Kiri. “I’ll buy that. I just didn’t think he was your type.”

“He isn’t,” Mala said. “I had to disappoint him. He’s such a country boy, you know. But he is very strong.” She finished with a wistful tone, staring at the wall with a distant look in her eye.

“Right in here,” Karey said as she walked into the kitchen, towing Gilliam behind her. “Can’t say I’m surprised you came by.”

Mala pulled herself back into reality and rose to her feet with her usual elegant grace. Gilliam’s eyes widened and quickly flicked up and down, taking in the whole of her figure, but he recovered smoothly.

“I’m so glad to see you haven’t been alone, Kiri,” he said. “When I heard you were hurt I rushed over to bring you some entertainment. Perhaps I needn’t have hurried. Won’t you introduce me to your lovely friend?”

“Gilliam, this is Mala, the miller’s daughter,” Kiri said. “Mala, this is Gilliam the Scribe.”

Pleasantries were exchanged, charming on both sides, and then the two of them settled down on the opposite side of the table from Kiri. Gilliam swung a large leather bag up onto the table. It hit with a thud, jarring Kiri’s injuries.

“What’s that?” Kiri asked.

Gilliam smiled. “Your entertainment, milady.” He opened the bag and pulled out a ledger and a stack of papers.

“Entertainment?” Kiri said. “It looks like work.”

“Well, I must admit,” Gilliam said, gesturing at her foot. “It seemed you would have plenty of time.”

“True enough,” Kiri said.

“No it isn’t,” Karey said, passing by the table loaded down with plates. It was lunchtime. “If she’s too hurt to work for us she’s too hurt to work for you, Lord Westfall’s business or not. You’re not going to slow down her healing and keep me working extra.”

“Of course,” Gilliam said, immediately gathering up the papers and ledger. He fastened it back together and looked at Karey as meekly and sadly as had any puppy just scolded by its master. “It was very thoughtless of me.” And then, where Karey couldn’t see, he winked at Kiri.

“Hmph.” Karey bumped the door with her hip and bustled off into the dining room.

“I have one other thing for you,” Gilliam said, digging into a small pocket on the side of his bag. “Ah, here we are.” He held up a small clay jar.

“What’s that?” Kiri asked.

“For your foot,” Gilliam said. “It’s an ointment.” He pulled the lid off and went over to Kiri’s foot. Then he hesitated, uncomfortable at doing something so intimate as rubbing ointment on her foot.

“Here let me,” Mala said, taking the jar. “Ugh, it stinks.”

“It does,” Gilliam said. “But it works wonders.”

Mala gingerly dipped one finger in the ointment and carefully started smearing it on. Kiri flinched at the touch, but soon enough she felt the pain easing, so she didn’t complain.

“So,” Mala said, dipping her finger back in the jar. “You are working for Lord Westfall?”

“I serve at his pleasure,” Gilliam said.

“How fascinating,” Mala said.

“I suppose it might be that,” Gilliam said. “Lord Westfall is an unusual man.”

“Is he really? What do you mean?” Mala, trying to bat her eyelashes at Gilliam and apply ointment at the same time, pressed too hard and Kiri flinched. “Oh, sorry, Kiri,” she said, turning her eyes back to her work.

“Kiri has met him, of course,” Gilliam said. “I don’t know if she found him unusual, but he certainly was interested in her. He invited her to dinner, in fact. I hope she will be healed enough to come.”

“Did he?” Mala leaned toward him, dragging Kiri’s foot with her.

“OW!” Kiri said. “She already knew that and wants to be invited. I told her it was rude.”

Gilliam laughed. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Lord and Lady Westfall would surely appreciate the company of such a lovely young lady.”

Kiri said, “Ha!”

Mala said, “Thank you so much, Gilliam. You are such a charming man.”

“Enough of that,” Kiri clapped her hands together loudly. “Finish up with that ointment.”