Live today - Astria's adventures continue in The Wounded Sky !

The Wounded Sky is live now at Amazon and other major retailers:

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In case you haven't picked up an excerpt at BookFunnel or the ARC at NetGalley or Edelweiss, I cut out a section of chapter 1 for you.

...

Livoik had settled into its early-afternoon rhythm with therap of hammers and calls of craftworkers when Astria found its dusty mainstreet. The town was small, with only the Inne of Three Bastards exceeding asingle floor. Adorned with baubles and surrounded by gifts of food stood ashrine with a three-headed goddess in an alcove between buildings. Past theshops and dry-goods store, she followed the smell of burning dirt to theblacksmith where the traveling doctor had set up his temporary practice.

The smith’s fire was hot but the anvil quiet as Astriajoined the line outside the door and listened hard to the chatter of others tounderstand. A spindly young woman in a tunic came to each, spoke to them, andchanged their place in line. From their actions, Astria decoded the words untilthe girl stood in front of her.

“Your ailment?” the girl asked.

“A curse,” Astria said, to which the girl rolled her eyesand tapped her foot until she offered an alternative. “A poison.”

The girl raised her eyebrows, took Astria’s arm, and hurriedher to the front of the line. “How long ago?”

“A year,” Astria said, after which the girl frowned andreturned her to the end of the line. There, even as new patients arrived andwere sorted, Astria remained.

As she waited, men carrying a stretcher rushed past with anunconscious man with one leg bandaged at the knee. Another arrived with a wristat an unnatural angle, and later, a child groaned with one hand on a swollencheek and his other gripping his mother’s pocket. None carried weapons or toolsthat might be used in defense.

Short cries of pain and muffled screams echoed from insidethe blacksmith’s shop, and patients walked out with splints, bandages, orlimping on a new crutch, none of them smiling. Men carried the stretcher outwith the man on it one leg short, and the child left with his mother and abloody rag in his mouth. Not wanting any of those outcomes, but with noalternative, Astria waited.

As sundown approached, the line of patients decreased, andthe girl led the last patient out the door. “The doctor will come to examineyour horse tomorrow,” she said to the man.

With the glow from the fire tinting her tunic red orange,the girl turned to Astria, her palm open. Into it, Astria placed Tor’s note.

“So the college will pay our fee, then?” the girl asked witha raised eyebrow. When Astria did not reply, the girl stuffed the note in herpocket with a pile of others. “So be it.”

Inside, on a stool by the fire, sat a gray-haired man in awhite tunic stained with splotches of red and greenish yellow, and Astriaturned away to curb her imagination. A box behind him opened to a portablecabinet with many tiny drawers, each labeled with unfamiliar runes. On theanvil lay a bronze saw next to needles, probes, and blades in a tray of bloodywater and, near the fire, a pile of stained rags. Next to them sat the girl whopointed to a chair opposite the doctor for Astria to sit.

“My daughter tells me you were poisoned,” the doctor said.“Your symptoms?”

“Numbness at the wound. Sporadic delirium and a spreadingstain.”

“Spider bites often cause confusion, but only for a day. Therock korkimon or the winsover scorpion can leave a lasting stain near thewound. When did this occur?”

“A year past,” the girl said.

The doctor frowned. “Our aim is to remove poisons and venomsbefore they get into your system. Once they’re systemic, we have limitedoptions. Rarely does the event occur when I am near, and most victims die orrecover on their own.”

“Do you have treatments?” Astria asked.

“Some. But antivenoms are hard to make. They require timeand a sample of the venom. Do you know what bit you?”

Astria nodded. “A crossbow bolt.”

“Ah. Delivery by a weapon implies manufacture and might be amix of venoms and poisons working in concert. Do you know what was in it?”

“No.”

“Well, if it’s taken a year, it’s slow, so it’s travelingthrough your flesh, not your blood. Bleeding you won’t help. May I see thewound?”

Astria frowned with a deep furrow between her eyes. Showhim the thing most likely to betray me?

He glanced at his daughter, smirked, and opened his handspalms up. “Come, come. You can’t expect me to treat you without seeing yourwound.”

The dinner bell tolled at the college, but Astria would notbe put off. “In confidence?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, and beside him, the girl nodded.

Astria pulled up her jumper to expose the purple wound whichglimmered in the firelight. Using a wooden probe, the doctor prodded and pokedher thigh and pelvis around the purple corona but did not touch it. Frowning,he pulled on his ear.

“I’ve not seen anything like this.” He pointed back to hisportable cabinet. “I have antidotes for most poisons. But treatment requiresknowledge of the specific one. The wrong antidote might kill you.” He pokedaround the purple stain again. “Perhaps we could cut it out, but it’s not clearhow deep it goes.”

“Find out,” Astria said.

He looked to his daughter, who nodded, reached into a clothbag for a leather strap, and handed the strap to Astria. At the same time, thegirl removed a knife from the tray and sharpened it with slow, circular motionson a whetstone.

“This may hurt,” he said. “Do I need to put you to sleep?”

What might happen to me at the mercy of strangers with somany blades? “No.”

“Bite on the strap,” he instructed as he took the knife.

The knife was razor sharp, and Astria did not feel theincision. As he began, his eyes were bright with interest, and the girl leanedcloser.

Horror of the wound

But as he cut, their faces changed to wide eyes and openmouths. The girl stood and her stool fell behind her, and the doctor pushed hisstool back. Astria followed his eyes, which went to the knife in his hand,where the purple stain seemed to crawl toward his fingers. He dropped the knifein the dirt and stepped back while examining his hands. Without a word, hegrabbed the knife with the blacksmith’s tongs and threw it into the fire. Thegirl handed Astria a bandage, and the pair immediately doused their hands withbrandy and washed them with the smith’s gritty soap.

Astria looked at the cut, which quickly sealed withcongealed purple rather than blood. Over the cut, she applied the bandage andcovered her thigh. After inspecting the area, the doctor and the girl satagain. But this time, his face was drawn.

“Why do you shy from continuing?” Astria asked.

“Your wound is more extensive under your skin,” he said.“And I suspect it surrounds your blood vessels.”

“Can you cut it out?”

He pursed his lips. “Only if we amputate your leg and pelvisfrom the waist, and that would kill you.”

“And there’s nothing more you can do?”

“I’m sorry, no,” he said.

“What about other doctors or healers?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I was trained in the Imperium, andthere’s likely no place other than Capitolia to the south or Branwyn to thesouthwest where you might find someone with more knowledge than me or anapothecary with more cures.”

“Where are these places?”

“Both are many months away by wagon and dangerous journeysalone.”

Then much farther than Vandrare can fly without theberries. “What about alchemists?”

“They promise eternal life, but their elixirs often deliveronly an upset stomach and the runs.”

“Do they visit here?”

He smiled. “You rarely find them along a doctor’s route.”

“Sorcerers?”

He shook his head. “There are shrines nearby to Junera andMadema to offer sacrifices if you are inclined to miracles . . .”

And I should pray to the gods who turned their backs onme. What hope is that?

“Or perhaps a priest,” he said.

Astria rose to leave. “Thank you.”

As she walked out the door, Astria turned back to see thegirl burning everything that had touched Astria, and the doctor hastily packingtheir things.