“Water. Now,” he said, not watching to see if Piter obeyed him. Jamie’s lips had blackened and cracked, covered in dried blood that had also dripped onto his chin. Piter came back and knelt beside them and held a small carafe to Jamie’s lips, pouring a few drops of water onto his swollen tongue. Jamie sputtered, choking. Piter gave him a little more, then poured some into his own hand and wiped Jamie’s lips and chin.
Nico watched in disbelief as Jamie’s lips healed before his eyes, becoming soft and rosy once again. Piter continued down the tortured body, and wherever his hand spread the water, Jamie knitted together, the wounds closing, his skin turning milky white under Piter’s touch with only faint scars remaining.