“Why have you brought a problem into my tent, huntress?” Grandmother’s normal impatient, blunt tone had an extra edge to it as her gaze first bore down Prevna before cutting over to Rawley.

Grandmother sat at the back of the tent on a thick cushion. Old Lily knelt beside her sister, posed so that when she drug her prayer needle over her wrist the blood would collect in Grandmother’s ceremonial bowl. We had crowded together near the tent entrance. Rawley, Prevna, and Nole stood in front, while Fellen and I peered past them in order to see the obviously private scene. Keili, Veris, and Crest had left us once we returned to the valley given that they belonged to other tribes and had no business meeting with our Grandmother.

Rawley stayed collected as she gave the absurd answer, “Sanctuary.”

Grandmother’s eyebrows crept higher. “It seems I will have to speak the small prayers another time, sister.” Old Lily nodded and began to put her prayer needle and the bowl away as Grandmother continued, “And you couldn’t have let one of the others pick up responsibility for her?”

“I led the hunting trip, Grandmother.”

“Feeling nostalgic?” Grandmother snorted derisively. “That never ends well for you.” Her attention snapped to Prevna before Rawley had a chance to respond. “Show me your mark.”

Prevna stepped forward and held out her hands with such an assured manner that I faintly felt annoyed. Who did she think she was to act chastened in front some Picker woman but not Grandmother? Grandmother gave Old Lily a look that clearly questioned the intelligence of the girl before her.

Old Lily gave her sister an amused smile before turning to Prevna. “What’s your name?”

“Prevna.”

“Come closer, Prevna. My sister’s eyes weren’t what they used to be.” Only Old Lily could get away saying such things without fear of dire repercussions.

“My eyes are fine, sister. But how am I supposed to inspect anything when she’s across the tent?”

Old Lily tapped the corner of her right eye with a finger.

Prevna had hesitated at their banter—and I felt a little gratified to see some her bravado vanish—but she walked forward when Old Lily beckoned her again. Grandmother grabbed her left hand and peered at it for several moments before rubbing at the markings. She did the same to her other hand.

When she finished, Grandmother asked, “Your blessing?”

“Poison touched, Grandmother.”

“Meaning?”

“I can soak up poison from plants and creatures that I touch and then expel it into others.”

“Show me.”

Prevna hesitated again, “You want me to poison someone?”

“You’re welcome to go back to your band if you don’t. I won’t uphold false Sanctuary for an opportunist.”

Prevna’s jaw set. “I’m not a liar. Who do you want me to poison?”

My stomach sank when Grandmother’s gaze caught on me. I knew what was coming next even before she commanded me forward. “Join us, Gimley.”

I gritted my teeth to hold back an unwise comment and slipped between Rawley and Nole to stand on Prevna’s left. Arguing with Grandmother never got me anywhere. Still, once I stood face to face with the other girl, the desire to not be poisoned again surged to the forefront of my mind and I couldn’t help but point out that this scenario already happened.

“She already poisoned me once.”

Old Lily had the decency to look concerned, but Grandmother wasn’t impressed. “And yet, here you are, still as difficult as before.” She turned to Prevna. “Show me. You don’t have to worry about killing her—as you can see, she’s more than capable of handling it.”

Prevna’s gaze flickered between the two of us, before she let out a breath and seemed to center herself. “I won’t do as much as before.”

And so I got poisoned for the second time in two days. It took more willpower than I’d like to admit to stand still as she reached out toward me and pressed her hand to my head. Pounding headache, sour taste, puffy tongue all the same as before though they took a little bit longer to manifest. Nor was I completely helpless this time. I stayed on my feet despite the headache insisting I lay down and close my eyes, panting around my swollen tongue.

Grandmother spoke and I forced myself to focus on the words in spite of the pain. “What poison is it?”

“Black Root, Grandmother.”

“The effects?”

“Terrible headache, blurry vision, and trouble breathing if too much is taken. I thought to disadvantage my opponent if I was attacked, not kill them.”

“Smart choice, not to dabble in the goddess’s domain. However, other than the breathing, it is difficult for us to determine if she actually is suffering from such a poison. Nole, bring Levain here.”

Several sharp intakes of breath sounded from around the tent, but even with squinting I couldn’t make out who it was through my ruined vision and rising panic.

“No! I can make the diagnosis. You don’t—”

“Go, Nole.”

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The tent flap opened and closed.

Still, I could make it so she didn’t need to enter the tent when she arrived. “My vision is blurred. You should be able to tell by—”

“I barely understand you through your slurring, girl. Besides, it doesn’t matter what you know. No one in this tent is a healer, not even you, so we have no business delving into such things.”

“But—please—”

A rustle of cloth and then strong, warm hands gripped my arms. Old Lily. “Hush, child. Don’t stoop to pleading.”

Rawley spoke up, “You couldn’t have called for another healer?”

“This business stays within the tribe. Their history pales in importance to properly accepting a charge of Sanctuary. Or do you suggest that I tie open the tent flap myself to let others question my judgment and our strength as a tribe?”

“Of course not, Grandmother.”

“Then let us wait.”

The tent was far, far too small. My entire body started shivering and I couldn’t get it to stop. Only Old Lily’s hands kept me on my feet. A cold sensation started to build behind my ribs, shard by shard, until a wall of jagged ice was squeezing my chest, stomach, heart.

I couldn’t breath, couldn’t think.

She was coming.

And the fear of facing her again, of how she would break me this time, combined with the vicious hate that she could still make me feel that way when she was nothing to me was flaying me alive.

And then I remembered—I didn’t have to be there. I could go vacant like I had after her last rejection. As soon as the realization hit me, I felt something shift inside and suddenly, it felt like I wasn’t in my own skin anymore. What was happening to my body wasn’t happening to me. Sure, my body might still be struggling to breathe and dealing a debilitating headache, but it could handle that. It was resilient. And it wouldn’t die, no matter what happened.

I could watch everything from a safe, protected, distance. Nothing could hurt me here. It didn’t matter if I was rejected again or if judgmental eyes were cast my way or she got to use the healer’s craft that she hated and I was banned from. I wouldn’t feel any of it.

I could hear Prevna’s words without a hint of worry. “It shouldn’t cause shaking like that. I’m not very good at regulating the amount of poison yet—I might have given her too much again. I can take the poison back until the healer gets here.”

Grandmother waved a dismissive hand. “Leave her. She’s fine.”

Prevna swallowed before regaining her composure. “But—”

“Your poison didn’t cause her shaking. You want to help? Be quiet and pray that you aren’t wasting my time.”

Long minutes passed as everyone waited for Nole to return with the healer. I could imagine Fellen’s attention flinting between the tent flap and myself, and Rawley keeping an impartial face as she waited to see how things would play out.

The tent flap open and closed. Twice.

“You called, Grandmother?”

I didn’t need to be able to see across the tent to know that she was standing with her arms crossed, methodically taking in everyone’s reactions and the feeling in the tent. Plotting the best course of action and finding everyone else lacking.

“Look at the girl’s symptoms and tell me what you think she suffers from.”

I didn’t flinch when I heard her walk toward me—I had the vacant feeling to thank for that. She didn’t greet me or truly acknowledge me. Instead, she immediately started checking my heartbeat, my skin, my eyes, nose, and mouth. Like I was an object or a puzzle that had nothing more to offer her than a solution.

I couldn’t imagine being able to endure it, if I was still in my own skin. As I was, distant and cold, I took to silently critiquing her work—noting how I would have done better, where I would have checked more throughly.

She gave me the quickest examination I had ever seen her do. She still got the answer correct. “Her symptoms are most in line with Black Root—when too much has been imbibed, and not been diluted with enough water to produce its more relaxing effect.”

“Good. You may go.”

Even through the vacancy, I could feel her need to treat me. Not out of any true concern or motherly desire, but in order to confirm, with her own eyes and hands, that I wouldn’t nearly cost her her hard won reputation again. But then I felt the shift in her, when she remembered that she didn’t have to worry about a dead patient in my case, when she determined that it was better for her to do as Grandmother said. No arguments or fuss. No concern for how long I suffered.

“As you wish.”

The tent flap opened and closed moments later.

“You can take your poison back now.”

A new hand settled on my forehead and then there was a sucking sensation as Prevna pulled her poison from me. My ice weakened as she did so, and just as suddenly as I slipped into it, I slipped out of the protective distance. I was back in my heavy body that she had just poked and prodded without the barest hint of concern or acknowledgment.

My legs gave out completely and Old Lily helped guide me gently to the floor. I closed my eyes as my vision began to return, tried to hang onto the headache so that I wouldn’t have to think, wished for the swollen tongue to stay so that I had to focus on breathing.

All too clearly, I heard Grandmother continue to question Prevna. “You’ve received your blooding?”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“Show me your belly.”

Apparently, Prevna’s adult clothes of a long belted tunic and pants weren’t enough for her. All women got the goddess’s open eye inked below their navel after their first blooding—a symbol only the truly foolish would mark without an appropriate ritual or event behind it.

But even focusing on their conversation wasn’t enough.

The more I recovered from the poison, the more I became aware that the tent was still far too small. My shivering hadn’t stopped, and while my wish for the swollen tongue to stay wasn’t granted, my breath began to slip back into short gasps.

“Grandmother?” Fellen’s voice, shocking not just because I hadn’t expected to hear it, but for how terse it sounded. “Do you still have need of Gimley?”

A drawn out pause and then, “No.”

“Then if there’s nothing more you wish of us, we’ll take our leave now.”

Grandmother’s voice was softer than I expected it to be, “As you wish, child.”

A few moments later, small sturdy arms helped me stand as Fellen put my arm over her shoulders. I let her help me, still feeling a little dazed. Rawley caught my eye as we left the tent. She gave a look that both communicated her regret at how things turned out and a promise to talk. I gave her a slight nod in return, and then, finally, blissfully, we were out of the tent. Fellen kept marching forward and I matched her, not caring where we were headed.

It turned out to be the snow hut we had made before, roof still ruined but standing. However, she stopped a few paces away from the hut and dropped me into the snow. I could have caught myself at that point, if not for the unexpectedness of it. Then she continued to be an agent of surprise when she dropped to her knees in front of me, scooped up two handfuls of snow—and rubbed them all over my face.

My skin went numb and I tried to scramble away from her, but she kept rubbing handfuls of snow everywhere my skin was visible and once that was done, even over my clothes.

I could only stare at her when she sat back on her heels, visibly satisfied. I debated whether I should cover her in snow or ask what had just happened.

She cut in before I made a decision, “There. Now it’s like she never touched you.”

I kept staring.

Her eyes narrowed. “If you’re going to keep being creepy, I’m going in the hut.”

I wanted to say something—anything—but my ability to respond was still stuck somewhere between getting poisoned and the cold shards slowly warming in my chest.

I stared.

She went in the hut.