This story is set in the late apoc of fae apoc, and follows
Mourning Lost Gods and
The Destruction of the Gods
and The Dead Gods Come Visiting
We’d gotten ourselves as settled as we were going to be, gotten ourselves a little more comfortable with the end of the world, and, most importantly, we’d gotten comfortable with the lack of godlets everywhere. Then a godlet walked into what served us as a house and fell down half-dead.
We were all looking at each other when Kingfisher pulled out his filleting knife. Then it went from a cautious twelve-pointed look to a panicked 11-pointed look. The question was half what is Kingfisher going to do and half what do we want him to do?
“She’s a human being…” Kingfisher looked at his knife, then at the stone-skinned girl lying on the floor. “Well, she’s a being, and one that isn’t trying to kill us. And someone was clearly trying to kill her. Makes her, if not an ally, then not our enemy right now.”
There was another look around the room. Finally, it ended up being me that had to speak up.
“It’s logic, I guess.” I looked down at the elf on the floor. She looked so harmless. Then again, they often did. “But when she wakes up, we’re gonna need promises of no-harm and no-brain-fuckery from her. First thing, no hedging.”
“I agree totally.” Kingfisher leaned over to speak to to her, although I’m not sure she could hear him. “I’m going to cut the arrow out, miss. This is going to hurt a lot.”
She didn’t answer, but, then again, when the knife went in, she didn’t moan, either. She didn’t make any sound at all, not when he cut around the arrow-head, not when he pulled it out.
“Did you kill her?” Jason leaned forward. Worried or relieved? I couldn’t tell.
“With this?” Kingfisher waved his steel knife around. “Hardly. They might have, though.”
“I..” The elf groaned. “You want… promises.”
Somehow, the elf levered herself onto an elbow. Her color was better, I think: how do you tell on someone made of marble? She looked less ashy, at least.
“Lay down, lay down. You’re injured.” Paramedic training won for Marie again.
The elf shook her head. “Had worse. A promise.” She looked around, her eyes settling on every one of us. She looked so young. Then again, their ancient ones sometimes did. “You twelve. I swear I mean you no harm, and will do you no intentional harm, save in active self-defense.” She fell back to the floor with a small thump.
Marie tugged a blanket up to the girl’s hips, and began bandaging the hole the arrow and Kingfisher had left. “It would have waited,” she muttered, but the girl was back beyond listening.
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