Dagger and Scythe by Emilie Knight

Author:Emilie Knight [Knight, Emilie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-15T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 27

Scythe locked the door to the estate behind them. They had left Axe to his research some time ago. It took them longer to reach home than usual because of the stairs between the dead trees. Dagger had slowed down. When they left the tree, the moonlight showed his leg to be bleeding again. No doubt the other wounds were as well.

Now Dagger leaned on the wall beside the door with his eyes closed.

“Let’s get you to the parlor,” Scythe said, taking his arm. He let her lead him. “You can sleep on the couch. I’d rather you not attempt the stairs like this.”

He grunted as he lowered himself to the couch but didn’t lie down. He gripped the edge of it, leaning forward.

“An eventful night.” His voice was rough but steady.

Scythe sat next to him. “You should lie down. I’ll get the bandages to patch you up again.”

She went to stand, but Dagger caught her arm.

“There’s one more thing I’d like to hear before I pass out again,” he said.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait.”

“It’s been waiting since you dug up my death. You promised to tell me yours.”

“You want to hear that now?” Her heart started to seize at the thought.

“It’s a night for discoveries.” He didn’t let go of her arm.

“I will tell you, but not until you’ve healed more. You can barely walk,” Scythe protested.

“The promise was after I had rested,” he said. “I’ve rested enough.”

“Clearly, you haven’t.”

“Regardless, I would hear that story now. It’s not like it can affect my health.”

“By the gods, you’re stubborn,” Scythe cursed. She was tempted not to tell him out of spite.

Dagger’s eyes softened at her harsh tone. “I’ll admit I’m not in the best mood, but this has been hanging over us since that wedding. I’d rather it not anymore.”

She didn’t want it there either. Now did seem like as good a time as any. She might as well get it over with.

“Alright,” she said, “but let me get the bandages to patch you up while I talk.”

“Alright,” he agreed.

It only took her a few minutes to come back with the linen strips and start removing the spoiled ones.

“I can hardly remember my old home anymore. I think I blocked most of it out. I remember dying perfectly though,” she started begrudgingly.

He settled back while she cleaned his wounds again. She was uncomfortable sharing her death, but she forced herself too. This was one of the few things Dagger ever demanded of her, and she had dug into his death. She tried holding back the resentment as she spoke.

“I lived in a city with my mother and father. I don’t remember the city’s name, but I don’t think it exists anymore. We lived in a tiny one-room house beside an apothecary in the poorest corner. Father worked with the blacksmith but made hardly any wages. Mother helped the family who owned the apothecary; they paid her now and then, but it was never enough. Feasts for us counted as a slice of bread for each of us; cheese was a luxury.

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