No Solace (The Flames of Retribution - Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-three - Mistakes were made

I was up and supporting Ursula before the ladies could make a move.

"It was just awful, Father Faria," Ursula's voice became thick with tears. "I was about to purchase some sweets to take back to our poor orphans in Aluraparine, but I cut myself on a piece of wood that was hanging off a wagon that whizzed by."

I was sure the maudlin act would fall flat, but sympathy flooded from the other guests at the table.

"Oh, my poor dear! It's amazing such a thing didn't cut your leg clean off!" Madame Claire exclaimed, springing to her feet. "Let us aid you! Father Candletree is a mage."

Ursula pinched my rib, and my voice rose slightly as I turned down Madame Claire's offer. "No need. I will see to the Sister, but I am afraid this will end our dinner. If you will excuse us?"

"Of course," Madame Claire's voice was faint with surprise that I'd turned her down. I wanted to pinch Ursula right back. It was only all the months of training Xiwang and Perron had given me in acting that kept me from doing so. Merx would probably applaud my new skills. I had turned from wood into a real girl.

Or boy at the moment. Was 'real' a thing I could say about myself while hiding in a homunculus?

Nevermind. I was spiraling into a Seeker panic. The next thing I knew, I'd start rattling off trivia. I had to keep it together.

Janicen hadn't said anything more, but she was giving me a sharp look. I worried her Seeker eyes had caught us. I gave the ladies a bow, then helped Ursula upstairs. The innkeeper was exclaiming about the bloody mess we'd made in our wake.

Once we were in the room, Ursula hobbled over to a ladder-backed wooden chair and sat down heavily after whipping off the nun's habit. Underneath the disguise, she was wearing black leather pants and a tight black tunic of muslin. The bottom of the right pant leg had been ripped, and I could see a large wound on her calf.

I groaned but didn't question her yet. It was apparent why she hadn't wanted Janicen healing her. The wound looked nothing like a slice from a piece of wood, no matter how jagged. It looked every bit like a bite from a large canine. She handed me a knife, which I used to cut the leg of her pants. Then, I gathered supplies together to clean and dress her wound.

I couldn't keep the weariness from my tone as I asked her, "What happened?"

"Janicen had a dog. I took care of it."

My heart caught as her words gave me a nasty jolt. She hopefully had not killed the animal. My next question was thick with implied threats. "Took care of it, how?"

Her shoulders slumped. "Everything was going well. I had no trouble on the streets. For all the soldiers here, few are diligent at keeping watch. It feels like this is a place not just for inepts and exiles but also for rejects."

I flinched at her words, thinking of how many called the Lows inept, even those Lows that had aptitudes. I poured a potion over her wound, and she hissed. I looked up at her with satisfaction that I'd hurt her. "That's unkind, Ursula."

She shrugged as she stared at me as if to say, 'Shall I continue?' I nodded in response while I wiped all excess blood from the wound and poured a second potion over it.

"Faluel take it all, that hurts!" She tried to jerk her leg away, but I wouldn't let her.

"Continue." My voice was taut with petty malice.

"Fine," she huffed. "Madame Claire's house was simple -- single story with no warding charms or traps. The furnishings were plain, which surprised me with a name like Madame Claire. I looked for that book you said Head Librarian Brightgarden gave her - 'Trap the Future', was it?"