Stone Sacrifice ✔️Chronicles of Grey BOOK ONE [COMPLETED]

Chapter Six

     "Take her upstairs and watch her." Arion snapped while glaring at me and handing the keys to Rian. "Make sure she doesn't go and get herself killed."

I glared at him but he was already turning toward the bar where Aitch sat. Jazera smirked at me. "Don't worry, he's just pissed he got his ass handed to him by a girl." She told me and went after him. Rian took my arm and led me up the stairs.

There was a bath waiting in the room, steaming hot. Rian made enough motions to let me know he would be outside the door and to knock when I was finished, then left. I removed my boots and gloves and sat in the chair by the lone table, looking at my wound. It was deep, but small. It would heal quickly. My worst worry was what had been in the water.

Uncomfortable with knowing someone was outside the door waiting, I quickly stripped myself of both cloaks then my clothing and washed in the tub as quickly as I could. Then I washed the clothing as well, and by the time I was done, the water was black, making me, again, worry of the water and the fact that it had been in my wound, and also that I had swallowed some.

I used the cream on my neck to hide my marks as I always did and, for the first time in a long time, used it on the marks around my ankles and my hands and wrists and well before pulling the robe around me and opening the door for Rian.

He held medical supplies as he came in, but he used the other hand to tap my cheek and tilt his head, asking how I was.

"Just need a few stitches." I said.

He shook his head and tapped my temple. Mama he mouthed. Ah, he was asking how I was after seeing my dead mother.

I smiled at him. "I'm fine." I promised. "She died a long time ago."

He nodded, patted my cheek again, then got me to sit. Immediately he started to stitch it. As I felt nothing, he must have had some sort of Shadow magic that numbed the pain so I was left to wait and wonder. It was unusual having someone else stitch me up (it had been one of the things Jovian made me do each time I was injured, knowing I would know how to do it myself) but it was my sword hand and so I didn't dare attempt it myself when I didn't have to. It was odd having someone touching the skin of my hands; I hadn't felt much without my leather gloves on in a very long time.

"How did you loose your voice?" I asked quietly. "We're you born that way? Or..."

He shook his head and moved his hand enough to pull down the wool of his shirt, revealing a red and angry scar there. He held up five fingers, then four.

"Nine summers ago?" I guessed.

He shook his head.

"You were nine summers old?"

He nodded and went back to stitching, then he bandaged it and sat across from me, tapping his finger as if thinking. Finally he touched his neck and hand, as if tracing marks.

"King Marqis?" He shook his head and moved an imaginary sword. It took me a moment, but soon I understood. "The war where the Beoworth's stole the crown."

He nodded, patted the table again in thought, then smiled and took my hand, the uninjured one. He said nothing, only sat there in a comfortable silence. I realized I had made my first friend. That made me chuckle and he tilted his head. I debated on telling him, then decided there was no harm in it.

"I've made my first friend, and it's with a man who cannot speak." I told him with a grin. "I wonder what that stays about me."

He looked surprised and pointed to himself. Me? He was questioning. Your first friend? Then, when I nodded, he tilted his head. Why?