But the witch’s face grew grave. “Bryce, I have to open the wound. I can numb you so you don’t feel that part, but the venom, if it’s as deep as I suspect … I cannot use mithridate leeches to extract it.” She gestured to Hunt. “With his wound the other night, the poison had not yet taken root. With an injury like yours, deep and old … The venom is a kind of organism. It feeds off you. It won’t want to go easily, especially after so long meshing itself to your body. I shall have to use my own magic to pull it from your body. And the venom might very well try to convince you to get me to stop. Through pain.”

“It’s going to hurt her?” Hunt asked.

The witch winced. “Badly enough that the local anesthesia cannot help. If you like, I can get a surgical center booked and put you under, but it could take a day or two—”

“We do it today. Right now,” Bryce said, her eyes meeting Hunt’s again. He could only offer her a solid nod in return.

“All right,” the witch said, striding gracefully to the sink to wash her hands. “Let’s get started.”

The damage was as bad as she’d feared. Worse.

The witch was able to scan Bryce’s leg, first with a machine, then with her power, the two combining to form an image on the screen against the far wall.

“You see the dark band along your femur?” The witch pointed to a jagged line like forked lightning through Bryce’s thigh. “That’s the venom. Every time you run or walk too long, it creeps into the surrounding area and hurts you.” She pointed to a white area above it. “That’s all scar tissue. I need to cut through it first, but that should be fast. The extraction is what might take a while.”

Bryce tried to hide her trembling as she nodded. She’d already signed half a dozen waivers.

Hunt sat in the chair, watching.

“Right,” the witch said, washing her hands again. “Change into a gown, and we can begin.” She reached for the metal cabinet near Hunt, and Bryce removed her shorts. Her shirt.

Hunt looked away, and the witch helped Bryce step into a light cotton shift, tying it at the back for her.

“Your tattoo is lovely,” the medwitch said. “I don’t recognize the alphabet, though—what does it say?”

Bryce could still feel every needle prick that had made the scrolling lines of text on her back. “Through love, all is possible. Basically: my best friend and I will never be parted.”