Vivienne Von Vexx's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

The hunter's color faded by the hour. Vivienne pulled back the cloth on his side and saw the wound had darkened at the edges. Heat rose from it. She needed clean water, salve, bandages, and the small purple berries from the vine she had grown outside. The vine sat three steps past the heavy wooden door, where dried blood from last night still stained the wood. Three steps into open daylight. Three steps that would kill her. She turned from the door and searched the chapel instead. Behind the altar stood a tall carved cabinet she had not opened. She pulled the doors wide. Folded white linens. Small clay jars. A bottle of pale wine. Not the berries, but enough. Her hands moved fast. She tore the linen into strips. She poured wine over the wound to clean it. The hunter groaned but did not wake. The darkening edge did not fade. The wine was not enough. She returned to the stained door and pressed her palm against the wood. Outside, the healing vine waited in full sun. She could send no one. Her brothers were far across the grove and would not come in time. She thought of the face she carried in her pocket and looked down at the real face on the floor. Then she did the only thing left. She wrapped her hand in the brown cloak, cracked the door an inch, and reached. Sunlight bit her wrist like fire. She screamed into her teeth and tore three vines free before falling back inside. Skin blistered black to the elbow. But the berries were in her fist. She crushed them into the wound and bound it tight with linen. By dusk, the dark edges had pulled back. The hunter's breathing eased. Vivienne sat against the cabinet, cradling her ruined arm, and watched him live. He would live now. And she had a burned arm she could not hide, and a face beneath a hood she could not keep hidden forever.