The Curse in Her Blood

Chapter 15

Robin

Set is quiet and stiff. Which makes sense because I can see the blood seeping through his shirt. He's been cut open badly. And of course, I feel bad because it's my fault.

"I really am sorry."

I've said it for the millionth time. Literally, it's all I've ever said since he came back out of Osiris' temple. I'm a complete and utter broken record spitting out a useless apology like it's going to stitch his skin back together, or bind him so he stops bleeding.

He says nothing to me. He's stopped talking to me. This is fair, as I've already mentioned this is my fault.

"Is... is there anything I can do, maybe?"

Now that gets his attention. He doesn't look at me but he does ask: "Like what?"

"Well... I unno... didn't the Egyptians have first aid? I know you don't have magic but can we bring in a healer or something. Or maybe I can do it? I can wrap you up if you'd like..."

"The injuries are not going to close with any special salve or magic," he says with a scoff. "They're meant to stay open and they will stay open until Osiris has deemed me punished enough."

"Wait... wait a second... so it's a never healing injury?"

When he nods I feel my heart sink. Why the hell would anyone do that? But I now understand why he took my punishment. Because I would have had to live with that forever and I'm a whiny bitch so he would not have heard the end of my complaining if it constantly hurt.

I should say thank you. Thank him for saving me from that kind of suffering, but I don't feel grateful. I'm angry.

"What the hell?! I thought the lashes were the punishment!"

Set just shrugs and a wince covers his face briefly. Dear lord if even shrugging hurt him regular life was going to suck for him until he got used to it. Would he get used to it? Oh god, what have I done?

"I'm so sorry!" I say again and I feel like I might cry. This time when Set sighs, I can hear the frustration and annoyance in it.

"If it bothers you this much you can try putting on the salve and binding it, but I don't want you to get upset when it does nothing."

"Wonderful!" I cry, because I'd like to at least try. "Where is...."

He waves his hand and it's sitting there on the edge of the basin. He sits himself down on the edge of the basin and I sit myself down beside him. He strips himself of the black flowing tunic like shirt and I'm presented with perfectly sculpted planes of rippling tanned muscles.

Dear god I've never found a back attractive before and it might have grabbed me more if I wasn't also just presented with something utterly horrifying.

There are these giant dark slices cutting through his skin. It looks likes he's been flayed. But he doesn't bleed, it's just a big gaping wound. I can practically see the muscle underneath.

"Oh my god! That looks... what the hell did he hit you with?"

"It's his flail, it's made to cause lasting damage."

Fucking Christ. That thing he had, the little golden rod with what I thought was ribbons with little gemstones tied to it. That's what had done this. How had he not cried out as this had happened to him? Or had he and I had just not heard him?

I take the little earthenware jar filled with an orange tinted salve that smelled of aloe and frankincense. It was warm against my fingertips which was weird but I still spread it across the wounds trying not to flinch or gag as I touched his wounds.