After a few moments, the knife Donovan was holding clattered to the table, and he let out a grimace of pain. Marleigh looked up from her work on the deer, concern on her face. “What is the matter?”
“I got stung, I think,” Donovan responded, holding the back of his neck. “It is not anything to be worried about, I am certain.”
Marleigh looked dubious. “Let me see it.” She walked over to Donovan, who met her about three-quarters of her way to him. He leaned down so she could see his neck. “I do not see any marks,” she stated, then narrowed her eyes and ran her thumb over the spot Donovan had indicated. “Hmm…”
“What, hmm? Good-hmm? Bad-hmm? What is hmm?” Donovan rattled off.
“Hmm-interesting…” Marleigh replied, still looking at his neck.
“Thank you, Marleigh,” Donovan said flatly. “You have calmed the bubbling fear rising in my stomach.”
“If you have indigestion,” she began, only half-listening to his words, “I have a tea for that.”
Donovan sighed. His humor was lost on her in this moment. As she remained focused on his neck, he could not help but think that she smelled of vanilla and honey. Well, normally she smelled of vanilla and honey; in this moment, however, she smelled of ice and storms. He did not have long for his thoughts to swell, for the door to the kitchen opened, and Jasmyne entered, followed by a ducking Mirodan. “Oh, good!” Jasmyne said with a bit of relief in her voice. “You are checking that sting.”
“Only, there is nothing here,” Marleigh said, stepping from behind Donovan. “There is no mark and no stinger.” She frowned, then started tapping a finger to her lip.
“It was Shadow,” Mirodan said quietly.
Marleigh’s eyes flashed to the tall, masked man in her kitchen. “Shadow?”
“Yes.” Mirodan did not explain further. Marleigh did not expect him to do so. She had grown accustomed to his statements of fact that others either just needed to accept or ask further questions about to glean the information they felt they needed. “I need Riordan, then. Or you, Miro. You can see Veilkin, right?”
Jasmyne’s eyes grew wider as the conversation continued. Her only son had been touched by a Veil Shadow? What did that mean? Was he alright? Would there be serious ramifications and implications from this? He could not stay here if there were Veilkin walking about that no one could see. She opened her mouth to say so out loud when Mirodan placed a hand on her shoulder. She closed her mouth and looked up at him. He seemed to be staring at Marleigh. She followed his gaze to Marleigh.
“Can you at least look and see if there is an unseen mark?” she was asking.
Mirodan gave Jasmyne’s shoulder a gentle squeeze, then crossed the room to Marleigh and Donovan. He peered down at Donovan’s neck. Drawing in a deep breath, he looked to Marleigh. “Do you want to see?” Marleigh looked up at him, questioningly. “If I show, you will always see. Even on ozhers.”
Marleigh looked back to Donovan, then nodded, holding her breath.
Mirodan placed his hand over the back of Donovan’s neck. Donovan felt a warmth wash over his neck and shoulders. When Mirodan moved his hand, Marleigh looked at Donovan’s neck and saw a scar that seemed to be actively screaming, squirming on Donovan’s flesh. The edges seemed to fade into his skin like ink bleeding into a piece of paper. It looked wicked. It felt cruel. And it definitely seemed alive. She covered her mouth and stepped back from him. Mirodan put a hand on her back. “This ni good,” he stated. “I go. I come back later.”
Marleigh simply nodded, her eyes watching the screaming face as it slowly twisted into a laughing face. She closed her eyes, but it was still there when she reopened them. Mirodan was gone. Jasmyne was staring at her with concern etched on her face. Donovan was turning to face her. The color had drained from her face, and her eyes were large with horror. Donovan put his hands on her waist, trying to steady her. “What? What is it? What is there?”
Jasmyne came swiftly to Marleigh’s side. “What do you see, Marleigh? This is my son!”
Marleigh looked into Jasmyne’s eyes, then at Donovan, then back to Jasmyne. “H-he has been marked,” she stammered. “By the Veil.”
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