Sterling Forge's Arc

Chapter 28 of 31

The witch worked without speaking. Sterling watched from the floor. She unwrapped Linny's shoulder, laid her palm on the wound, and hummed one low note. The bleeding stopped. She pulled a jar from a shelf and smeared something dark into the tear. Linny's breath deepened. Color came back to her mouth. Sterling waited for the price. She did not name it. She wiped her hands on a cloth and hung the cloth by the fire. "What do you want," he said. "Not yet." "Tell me now. I'll pay it now." She turned. Her eyes caught the firelight and held it too long. "That is not how it works." "I have a forge. I have tools. I can bring silver. Steel." "I have shelves of silver." "Then name it." She knelt by the hearth and fed it a small stick. "A favor. Later. When I ask." "What favor." "I do not know yet." He stood. His ribs pulled. He sat again. "I need to know." "You needed her to live. She lives." On the bed, Linny stirred. Her hand searched the blanket. Sterling reached and took it. Her fingers closed on his. Warm. Alive. He looked back at the witch. "And if I say no when you come." "You will not say no." "You don't know that." "I know what she is worth to you. I watched you carry her." She pointed at Linny without looking. "You will pay." He thought of the sword he had forged in the cavern. He thought of the painting he had traded it for. He thought of the flawed second blade broken in the snow. He had already spent everything he thought he owned. There was nothing left to bargain with but himself. "Same terms as the woodcutter," he said. He had heard Lena speak the woodcutter's name in his shop, low, the way Linny had spoken this one. He guessed. The witch's mouth moved. Something like a smile. "He asked the same question. I gave him the same answer." "Then I take it." "You already did. At the door." He looked down at his hand in Linny's. It was done. He had signed it when he crossed the threshold with her in his arms. The naming was only ceremony. "Sleep," the witch said. "Both of you. The cottage will hold until morning. After that, it goes where it goes." She lifted a kettle from the fire and poured two cups. She set one by the bed and one by his hand. Then she sat in a chair by the window and looked out at nothing. Sterling drank. His shoulder loosened. Linny's grip stayed tight in his. He had bought her life with a debt he could not measure. He would owe it until she called for it. He did not know when that would be. He only knew he had crossed a line he could not walk back, and Linny was breathing beside him, and for tonight that was enough.