COF 2: The Soul Spells

9 | Lockdown (II)

"About time someone witnessed how Nyxis gloriously loses to me, the undefeated champion." He noticed Reeca then gave a dismissive wave. "Oh, you're here too. I was going to say welcome back, but you're not worth it."

Cyrdel blinked. Xanthy chuckled. "Don't mind them. They're like that every time."

The brownie prince nodded. "Yes, understandable."

Suddenly, Reeca gasped. Her wings gave an audible cracking sound. She crashed into the floor, groaning. Ravalee rushed to her side.

"What is wrong with her?" June asked before turning back to his game and moved a piece. "Alright, your turn."

"Great gods," Nyxis breathed. His eyes were trained at Reeca's wings. "That is the worst wing atrophy I have ever seen."

June looked up. "Stop smoking oshella. You sound like a scholar."

Nyxis shook his head and bolted to Reeca who was now getting straddled by Ravalee and Cyrdel. Reeca weakly squirmed. The karavag game was forgotten.

Xanthy watched Nyxis shoo the two brownies away. He seemed to have forgotten the black smears across his face, too. He crouched by Reeca's wings and touched it. Reeca flinched.

"How long has this been going on?" Nyxis asked in a tone Xanthy had only heard from physicians.

The varichria shivered. "A week," she hissed, curling to a ball and closing her eyes.

Xanthy plopped down a good distance from Nyxis. "What is so bad about it?"

Nyxis's face was grim. "One more flap and she would never fly again."

The temperature dropped. Reeca's head snapped up from the floor. Fear flashed in her mismatched eyes. "Never fly? But that..."

Nyxis's face was a calm mask as he nodded. "The deterioration has reached the point where there will be areas where the wilting will be irreversible. A day longer, your wings will start to darken like rotten ajilte and fold inward. Two days longer, and it will eat the muscles in your back as it decomposes."

Xanthy breathed as hard as her stomach churned.

Reeca's frown could have torn a house down. "What can be done?"

Nyxis ran a hand through his face, making the smears worse. He exhaled loudly through his nose and retrieved his satchel from the far corner of the room. "I could restore it to its former state if, and only if, you are willing to not use them for a long period of time. It will be as if you had your wings cut."

"How long?" Reeca raised her head from the floor.

"Two months or so, depending on your healing rate," Nyxis rummaged around his satchel and brought out various tools and jars one by one.

Reeca clawed at her hair. "But I need my wings," she whined.

"Continue using them, then. Have fun having the rest of your life walking on your own two feet." Nyxis moved to stand up.

"No, no, no," Reeca lunged for his tunic. "Fine. Do what you want!"

"Alright!" Nyxis knelt before the varichria. "First, I need you to remove your clothes."

"What?" Xanthy blurted.

The rest in the room gawked at Nyxis.

The human's face reddened. "I do not mean it like that. I should be able to see her back, that is all!" he put his hand on his chest, dipping his head in an attempt to sound sincere. "I swear to Daexis, I am not planning anything beyond that."

June's grin was full of malice. "Oh, I did not know you could be that way," he snickered. "There is more to you than meets the eye!"

"What—I am not—" Nyxis sputtered.

"Quit whining like witches. You make my head throb," Reeca snapped. "Here."

She touched the back of her armor. Blue wisps of magic curled from her fingertips and into the bark until it receded along the circumference of her wing muscles. Her front remained covered—a relief for everyone.

When Xanthy got a glimpse of Reeca's back, her insides almost hurled themselves out of the room. Skin, flesh, and bone melded in a bloody mess. That's why flying hurt and why there was a cracking sound earlier. Her bones literally snapped and tore through flesh.

Nyxis stared at all of this without balking. From his satchel, he drew a hollow rod made from wood that Xanthy only saw from the Nobility menageries. Then, to Xanthy's horror, he stabbed it at Reeca's back. The varichria's screams was sure to haunt Xanthy's dreams forever.

"Did I say that it is going to hurt a bit?" Nyxis said when Reeca calmed down.

"Son of a witch," Reeca hissed, wiping the tears in her eyes. "Is it done?"

Nyxis shook his head with a soft grin. "Ten bones to go!" he said with a little of scary glee. "Let me just get my things."

He moved away from Reeca for a moment, humming to himself as he rummaged inside his satchel.

"You know what? I am out of here," June threw his arms up. He chucked the karavag game away and strolled out of the room. He disappeared to the corridor like a mercok running from stomping boots.

Cyrdel coughed into his fist. "I think Ravalee and I should go to, you know, give you a little privacy."

He retreated to the door, Ravalee in tow. The door shut.

Xanthy sighed. Less people, less noise. She crouched near where Reeca was curled up. Reeca stared up at Xanthy, her frown deepening. "Aren't you going to leave?"

Xanthy's throat constricted. "Uh, Is it okay for me to stay?" What was she saying? Reeca probably needed her space! "You need support."

A soft hand crept to Xanthy's palm. Xanthy looked down and saw Reeca avoiding her eyes. The varichria's hand was tight in Xanthy's.

Nyxis returned and laid his tools on the floor along with some jars of ointments and rolls of bandage. He glanced at Reeca. "Ready?"

Reeca nodded. "Ready."

Xanthy's hand was crushed.