“It’s not working. The trees keep repairing the damage I’m doing,” Katie said. “I’m not sure what to do.”
Deidre grunted and visibly tugged at her feet.
“Damned magic …” Katie drifted off, looking at the roots anew. “Magic.”
“Ugh.”
“Here, eat these. I’ve got an idea,” Katie said. She handed the pale woman a food and water cube and popped two of her own. Standing, she waded into the brush where she’d thrown the knife. It glinted in the morning light. Katie swiped it, glad the trees didn’t have a taste for metal as well as Immortal sustenance.
“What’s your idea?” Deidre called after her.
“It probably won’t work. If you’re with me long, you’ll find I have the worst luck ever. But it’s worth a try,” Katie answered then muttered, “Not like I got anything else to lose.” She made her way back to Deidre with the knife and knelt.
Katie pulled up the sleeve of her soaked sweater and nicked her arm. She set down the knife and squeezed out a few drops of blood, watching as they landed on the roots. Then she sat back and held her breath.
“What are you doing?” Deidre asked.
Katie was quiet, willing the tree roots to be vulnerable to her immunity blood. She hacked at the root again and paused. The area where she’d dripped blood stayed cut while the area around it healed.
“I’m getting you out of here,” she said, thrilled. With a grimace, she sliced the palm of her hand and smeared the blood on the root.
“You’re insane,” Deidre breathed. “How are you doing that?”
“I don’t know. It’s my curse and sometimes, my blessing. I’m immune to young magic,” Katie explained. “I assume this tree isn’t that old.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
Katie nodded and sawed at the root, dripped more blood, then sawed again. She forced herself to continue even as she grew tired. Sticky blood covered the hilt of the dagger, her pants, the root, Deidre’s shoe and pants leg. Katie kept on, uncertain what might happen if she stopped for a break.