Chapter 3
Tissaia’s nose twitched as she silenced the urge to chastise the girl under her eye. She was carrying quite a heavy load after all. But the trail left in their wake as her waddling steps sent water over the bucket’s lip made Tissaia’s feel like a powder keg. She clasped her hands at her waist and squeezed her fingers rather than explode.
When they reached the temporary medical wing, Tissaia steered her student toward the right door and had her set the bucket down outside it. Then she ordered the girl gone with a tick of her hand and knocked on the door. No answer came, but it was quite early still with the dawn outside faint. Tissaia expected that Yennefer was asleep. She opened the door, cleanly hefted the bucket inside, and shut herself in.
In the window’s light, she could see Yennefer’s still form on the cot, one bandaged arm tossed over the side of her head and the other tucked under her twisted torso. Tissaia couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Clearly, Yennefer had never lost her taste for sleeping like a drunken wild animal. The idiot would be in terrible pain the moment she woke up.
The satchel bound to Tissaia’s waist rattled as she jostled it open and searched inside for a sapphire vial and her small, quarter-bent pipe. With both in hand, she crossed to Yennefer’s side and touched her sheet-covered arm. It was too warm for Tissaia’s liking, but as long as the fever remained of a lower grade, she would not allow herself to worry. Catastrophizing had never done her nerves any good. “Yennefer,” she said and jostled her.
The cot groaned as Yennefer jerked awake with a ridiculous snort and a dumbfounded, “Huh?” A mere second later, she tensed under Tissaia’s touch and gasped. “Fuck,” she growled through gritted teeth as she tried to stretch herself out only to cringe and curl up again. “Fuck.”
“Herbs,” Tissaia said, and Yennefer instantly opened her mouth like an expectant baby bird. Tissaia set the pipe against her bottom lip, and Yennefer trapped it in place. She trembled, and Tissaia shushed her. “Hold still.”
The sapphire vial tipped between Tissaia’s fingers, and a dark, grainy powder sprinkled into the pipe’s bowl. She quickly enchanted it to burn, and Yennefer inhaled long enough to raise Tissaia’s brow. Her exhale was a violent cough, but when Tissaia tried to the pull the pipe away, she grunted and mouthed at it in protest.
“Ridiculous girl. Do you wish to be numb or intoxicated?”
Yennefer sounded like a bullfrog as she held her second inhale in her throat and spoke despite the obstruction. “What do you think?”
Warmth rushed through Tissaia’s chest, a heady fondness that drew a sigh from her lips. “Fine,” she said and let her take her fill. “I suppose you’ve earned it.”
Yennefer’s sleepy, humored eyes looked up at her. They floated, always to the side or just above or below, as if Yennefer was too aware that she couldn’t see, so she couldn’t steady herself or properly use her other senses to guide her. She couldn’t be still. “Sneaking me illicit drugs first thing in the morning, Tissaia?” She coughed another smoky stream and nodded that she was finished. “Who has corrupted you?”
Tissaia set the pipe and vial on the small table at Yennefer’s bedside and pursed her lips to stop herself from mirroring the other woman’s wide smile. Even if Yennefer couldn’t see it, it made Tissaia feel as though she was considering doing something far more vulnerable, like taking her clothes off. “I did not sneak anything,” she said. “There’s a trail of water in the hall that will map my journey here, and there is no such thing as illicit for the one who makes the rules.”
“Ah.” Yennefer breathed a sigh of relief as she was finally able to stretch herself out and reposition. “Well, has the almighty one brought something to eat with her to satisfy the cravings her non-illicit herbs will cause, or has she only come to inflict pain?”
Tissaia snorted and reached for Yennefer’s left hand, the more damaged of the two. “Always so dramatic.” She carefully unwrapped the loose bandaging until the mangled appendage was revealed. Fingers were black in some places, an angry red beneath. In others, the flesh was gone, and Tissaia could see the white of bone in the morning light. Her stomach tightened at the sight. “But I am pleased you’re regaining an appetite.”
“You wouldn’t have brought the herbs if you didn’t expect there to be pain when you do whatever it is you’ve come to do.” Her brow drew tight, purple eyes tracking back and forth. “What exactly have you come to do? Other than get me high.” Her confusion morphed into a silly grin that Tissaia couldn’t help but quietly revel in. As the herbs took their effect, Yennefer slipped into a playful ease that made the war of mere days ago seem years in the past. “Have I a ghoul’s hand now?”
Tissaia tsked at her rather than entertain the morbid question. “My intention with the herbs was a light numbing only. You made the choice to indulge further.”
Yennefer laughed, delighted with herself. “Why wouldn’t I?” She laughed harder, and her voice cracked. “I’ve no purpose now.” The laughter stopped. Yennefer huffed out her breath and shrugged. “So, why not?”
A terrible ache speared Tissaia’s heart. Anger followed. A stubbornness she’d borne in her bones since she was a girl. “Don’t speak such nonsense,” she snapped and left Yennefer where she was. “You will find no pity with me.”
“Of course I won’t.” Yennefer sighed like an aggravated child. “Just tell me what you’re doing.”
Ignoring her, Tissaia returned to her abandoned bucket and unbuttoned her wrist cuffs. Then she rolled her sleeves up to her elbows and dipped her hands down into the water. A slippery tail flopped against her fingers, and she readied her palms with a channel between. She waited until the thicker body of the fish swam through and caught it with a firm grasp, resisting the need to shudder at the slimy, scaly feel of it. Quickly, she yanked it’s wiggling weight into the air and, with a quick word of Elder, forced it still but for its gasping. Then she murmured another to slow the last of its life force and give herself time.
“Why do I hear splashing?” Yennefer called from behind her. “Ugh. Is that fish? It smells.” She made an overdone gagging sound that ricocheted across Tissaia’s nerves. “What the bloody hell are you doing, Tissaia?”
“What I must.” Tissaia returned to Yennefer’s side and told herself to behave. She was a grown woman, centuries old and wise. She was not going to throw the fish at Yennefer. She also had zero intention of explaining herself nor of asking Yennefer’s permission, or anyone’s. She had set her mind on what needed to be done, and she would do it.
She pulled the table nearer and lay the fish atop it. Then she sat and opened her satchel again. Quickly, she gathered the mixtures she had prepared the night before and added each to a small tray. She stirred them into a gooey paste and said, “Give me your hand.”
Yennefer started to comply then stopped, pulling her arm back. “Do not smear fish on me.”
“Your hand, Yennefer. Now.”
“Fine.” She stuck out her limb, and Tissaia guided it to her own lap.
“Relax now,” she said, and Yennefer curled her lip.
“That would be easier without the stench.”
“Then breathe through your mouth,” Tissaia told her and dipped a small brush into the paste. “This will be cold at first but will grow warmer once the enchantment begins.” She painted the first of the necessary symbols onto Yennefer’s arm. “Any pain should be fleeting.”
“Tissaia.” She glanced up to see Yennefer looking her way, eyes wide and disbelieving. “You’re going to sacrifice a fish to heal me?”
There is a cost to this magic, Tissaia thought. Words she had spoken too many times to count. Something she not only believed but knew. Yennefer had been right before. It was the first thing she taught all her girls. No matter the size of the deed or the good it may do, magic always came with a price.
Tissaia cleared her throat and returned her attention to her work. “I will begin now.”
Two days passed before Tissaia returned to inspect the results of her foul-smelling enchantment, the one in which she had slaughtered a live fish in Yennefer’s shitty little room as if it was commonplace to perform sacrificial blood magic at one’s bedside. Yennefer still hadn’t wrapped her mind around it. Nor had her nose let her forget it. The scents of fish and blood lingered.
“You’re still in bed,” Tissaia announced as if Yennefer wasn’t aware. “Your legs will forget how to function if you refuse to use them.”
Her voice bothered. Words, too. Frustration brewed in Yennefer’s belly at the sound. She was tired and…over it already, all of it. She had never had much patience. “Shall I barrel into everything in my path as well, or have you forgotten I’ve no sight?”
Tissaia stepped close enough for Yennefer to feel the warmth of her. The familiar soapy-clean scent of her followed, tinged with a hint of tobacco. “Do you believe blind people never leave their beds, Yennefer?” she asked with a snide drawl.
The sound made Yennefer long for her sight just so she could be infuriated with how good Tissaia always looked when she was being a bitch. Wait, what?
“Have you recovered any sensation in your hand?”
“You mean other than excruciating pain? No.”
She heard Tissaia suck her teeth, could picture her annoyed expression near perfectly. The chair’s trademark squeak came after, and then Yennefer’s arm was being pulled into a waiting lap. Tissaia unwrapped her bandages, and Yennefer cringed as the cool air stung her raw flesh.
“How does it look?”
Tissaia’s answering silence spoke volumes.
“I see.” Yennefer tried to laugh away her disappointment but only managed a bitter, shaking sound. “So much for temporary then.”
“I had hoped for more progress.”
“Well, I’m happy to disappoint,” Yennefer said and hated the way her eyes burned. She was not going to cry over her injuries again. Or over Tissaia’s disappointment. “I’d hate to be off brand.”
“Your attitude doesn’t inspire success.”
“And your reeking enchantments are lacking, Rectoress,” Yennefer bit out like a dog snapping its teeth. She couldn’t stop herself, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to. It felt good to be angry, to be a menace; better, at least, than more tears. “You may go.”
Tissaia’s sigh was bone-deep. “You surprise me, Yennefer,” she said with a tone plucked from Yennefer’s memories. The disappointed drone of her perpetually unimpressed mistress. Yennefer had called her Rectoress, and Tissaia had risen to the title. “For decades, at every turn, you insist on being as stubborn as an angry ass, yet here you are, giving up at the start.”
“I’m not giving up,” Yennefer snapped, irritated at being spoken to as if she was still a student. As if she hadn’t paid a higher cost than most to serve the greater good. As if she wouldn’t be paying that cost for the rest of her life. Irritated at being bed-ridden and blind and, once again, at the mercy of others. She couldn’t even find her way to a chamber pot without help. She yanked her arm back despite the pain it caused. “I’m accepting reality. You know the cost is too high to heal this damage.”
“You should have left me as I was and let me go.” She didn’t mean to project the thought, but she knew Tissaia heard and couldn’t make herself regret it.
Tissaia’s chair scraped loudly, and her steps echoed against the walls as she walked away, a victory too fleeting for Yennefer to enjoy. “I disagree,” she called from the far of the room, tone resolute as though belief were fact, and then the door groaned open, her skirts swished over the floor again, and the wood slammed shut.
As her quick, sharp steps disappeared down the hall, Yennefer felt a stirring between her ears. Tissaia’s annoyingly matter-of-fact voice appeared in her head a moment later. “I will return at dawn.” It sounded like a threat. “Move your legs.”
Yennefer rolled her eyes and kicked off her blanket.
She spent the night without sleep, walking around her room like the undead. Each step was a shuffle as she tried to avoid the ricochet of motion up her legs and into her gut. It happened despite this, drawing pained moans and frustrated growls from her throat to accompany her awful gait. Yennefer enjoyed the movement regardless, much as she was able. It felt good, the blood flowing in her legs, muscles flexing. It felt good to be on her feet, even if she could only manage a slow, predictable circle of steps to avoid stumbling into anything. What did not feel good was the idea of telling Tissaia she had been right. Not that she needed to. Tissaia always thought she was right, which was annoying, and she thought that way because she basically always was right, which was even more annoying. Yennefer refused to add to anyone’s sky-high ego but her own.
When the knock came at dawn, she skittered back to her bed so as not to be caught and sat down. The door opened a moment later, and Yennefer tried to appear annoyed. She had no idea what she looked like, though. Perhaps her hair resembled a small bird’s nest. Or a large one. Either would dampen her ability to be intimidating. Not that she could help it. No one had bothered with her appearance beyond a washing since she woke.
“You’re awake.”
The words triggered a yawn that Yennefer was helpless to resist. “Observant as always, Tissaia.”
“Are you not sleeping well?”
The door shut with a heavy clamp and a small, watery splash followed. Then the thud of something heavy being set down. Yennefer scrunched her nose as she realized what the sounds meant.
“You’ve brought another fish.”
“An eel, actually.”
Yennefer stiffened as her mind colored with the image of an eel flopping on stone amidst a girl’s empty frock. Surely not.
Tissaia snorted dismissively as if reading her mind and said, “From the sea, Yennefer.”
“Must we do this in here? My bed still bears the smell of the last.”
“So, you intend to cooperate?” Tissaia asked, and Yennefer heard her approach. Something small, a satchel perhaps, dropped onto the table near the head of the bed. Then Tissaia’s hands were on her. Two gentle touches, fingers alight on Yennefer’s shoulders. “Your mood last night suggested otherwise.” Her fingers grazed up the slope of Yennefer’s neck to feel the rhythm of her pulse from both sides, and for some strange, terrible reason, a fire ignited at the base of Yennefer’s spine.
Her body reacted on instinct, head dropping forward. A sigh melted from her mouth as her forehead made contact with the thick cotton of Tissaia’s dress and pressed against her belly. Fuck, she needed touch. Something that wasn’t clinical or shallow or—What the fuck am I doing?! This is Tissaia!
Yennefer snapped herself aware to realize the woman had gone stiff as a board against her. Mortified, she tried to retract herself, but Tissaia’s grip firmed. As if triggered, she reanimated, one hand cupping Yennefer’s neck while the other slid into her hair to cradle the back of her head. The air rushed from Yennefer’s lungs as she let herself fall forward again, ringing the woman’s waist with her arms, and a moan brewed in her throat. By the time it reached her mouth, it was an awful sob that stirred Tissaia into action again. One hand curled into the back of Yennefer’s gown while the other hooked her under the arm and urged her off the bed.
Pain twisted in Yennefer’s gut as she shot to her feet, but it didn’t matter. It was nothing compared to the intoxicating heat of being pulled into a desperate embrace, Tissaia aloft on her toes to even their heights. She clung to Yennefer as one would a raft at sea, and her deliberate, measured breaths puffed at the back of Yennefer’s neck.
Gods, yes. She was so warm. Yennefer tucked herself against Tissaia’s throat and inhaled her scent. Incense added to the mix this morning, cedarwood if she had to guess. A rich addition. She ran the tip of her nose up the length of Tissaia’s neck and breathed her in again, realized Tissaia’s pulse was racing. She could feel the throb of it just shy of touching her lips.
Lightning coursed Yennefer’s spine and crackled down the backs of her thighs. Her throat dried in an instant, as if she’d been force-fed sand. What is happening? She eased back, so slowly that their cheeks dragged together, and stopped when she could feel Tissaia’s breath on her lips.
The two of them stood frozen there, clutching one another, and Yennefer’s entire body felt aflame again. Only this time, nothing hurt. She wondered if Tissaia’s eyes were open, if she was equally as conscious of how close they were to kissing. She wondered if Tissaia had ever considered kissing her at all.
The thought felt like a whip cracking across Yennefer’s mind, and she pulled herself together. She divested herself of her ridiculous, awful ideas and moved back from Tissaia’s grasp. And from the newfound temptation within.
Yennefer licked her lips as she eased back onto her cot. She tried to think of what to say or if she should say anything at all. She settled on acting as though the entire moment never occurred and held out her left hand to be unraveled. “Have on with it then.”
Tissaia cleared her throat and said nothing. Then she sacrificed an eel.