Morenial straightened, concern pinching his brow. “Virus?”
“It’s a possibility if Aris detected tainted blood.” Lial frowned as the healer’s hand wobbled. “Alerielle?”
Her head lowered, but he couldn’t see her face. “I have someone down there already.”
The whispered words drew a curse from Morenial. “You were to tell me at once about any injury, especially after this latest attack.”
“My other patient is…not new.” Alerielle tied off the thread on the wound she’d been sewing. “I do not have time to explain. Now that you are here, Lial, perhaps you can help me transport this patient to the upper level.”
Uneasiness shivered through him, a sense that what she had to say would change more than he could guess. No use speculating, though. As the other healer stood, Lial skimmed his gaze across Korel, cataloguing his visible injuries. It was immediately clear why Alerielle had called for him. She was a skilled healer, but the number of wounds the man possessed would be difficult for anyone to take on alone, and that wasn’t counting what Lial might find with his healing energy.
Together, they used magic to levitate Korel, guiding his body up a flight of stairs and into a small treatment room while Morenial guarded the entry. Lial knew very well this particular chamber wasn’t where Alerielle did major healing work—it was generally empty, in fact. Those with minor ailments could wait here if she happened to be too busy to see to them at once, but most chose to remain downstairs in the entryway.
He’d observed Alerielle on more than one occasion, learning her techniques for stitching wounds since she was a master at it. They weren’t exactly friends, but they’d compared notes too often for him to believe her actions in this situation were normal. At any other time, he would have challenged her to tell him the truth behind her strange behavior at once.
But not today.
Once Korel was settled on the bed—an unfortunate placement with so much blood to soak into the sheets—Alerielle pulled another needle and thread from the pouch secured on her belt. “I stopped the worst of the internal bleeding, but if you could repair his broken ribs while I close this other gash, I would be grateful.”
“Of course,” Lial answered, shifting to the other side of the bed at once.
It was strange not to be in charge, but he didn’t mind deferring—until he did a deeper scan of the patient. Flecks of dark magic like the ones in the Seelie queen’s blood filled the man’s body, and the spell that had kept the virus inert inside those specks had been cracked open in quite a few places. Where he detected remnants of Alerielle’s healing magic, the virus had escaped its magical containment, replicating in the spots she’d tried to repair. They reproduced sluggishly at the moment, but if he sent in his energy to repair Korel’s ribs…
“Wait,” Lial said. “You shouldn’t be touching him.”
Alerielle’s brow lifted, but her hands didn’t stop. “Impossible while stitching a wound.”
“Didn’t you sense the darkness in his blood?”
“Of course I did,” she answered calmly. “It is unfamiliar. But these gashes require closing. I noticed that my magic did something to awaken the flecks, so I’ve used as little energy as possible.”
Instinct warred with knowledge. He couldn’t withhold healing, but he was uncertain exactly what type of magic had destroyed the spell keeping the virus inactive. Would any energy break that barrier? Healing magic specifically? The latter ran counter to his experience treating Fen, and magic hadn’t worsened Naomh’s condition, either. Even the sample he’d studied hadn’t been broken open so easily despite the similarity of the virus inside. If he was wrong about the connection between those illnesses, did that mean they had multiple origin points for the plague?
A nightmare to contemplate later.
So what could he deduce from his admittedly limited experience with the virus? Earlier, adding energy to the sample had caused the inai to begin replicating. Taking over the blood. The more he’d added his magic, the more stringent the illness had become. Now, Alerielle claimed her magic had done something similar. They’d also used their power to levitate the man, but there was no sign the virus was active everywhere that type of energy had touched. That suggested healing magic might be the trigger for the virus.
His energy might do more harm than good.
For the first time in centuries, he couldn’t decide what to do next.
“If healing magic activates this, then repairing his ribs with energy will release more infection into his blood, but we cannot leave him so broken,” Lial muttered.
Alerielle tied off the thread and trimmed away the extra. “In all my many millennia, I have never seen a virus. Surely it isn’t worse than the trauma that dragon caused.”
In truth, Lial couldn’t answer the implied question. This was something completely new, beyond the illness he’d purged from Fen or noted in Naomh. It wasn’t even exactly the same as the darkness in the Seelie queen’s blood, though that came close.
Could Korel have a version of the virus found in the queen? He was a Moranaian elf, not a Seelie Sidhe. How much of a difference would that make? There were too many unknown variables, and Lial had far too little time to discover them.
Lial rubbed the heel of his palm against his forehead. “I don’t know.”
He needed information.
He needed Lynia.
By the time Lynia reached the back entrance, she almost wished she’d stayed in the healing tower. The sonal had done their best to spread warning of the shield being raised over the estate and surrounding lands, but there was still an air of near-panic among the populace. She’d been stopped with questions by three of their household assistants, a gardener, and one of the mages who’d come to help reinforce the ridge. It wasn’t that she minded offering reassurance—she simply needed to focus on solving the problem.
Even Maddy, who knew the cause of the shield, kept shooting uneasy glances at the greenish light gleaming above the bare tree branches. “How often is this used?”
Lynia opened the door and ducked inside before anyone else spotted her. “It’s tested every century or so, but I’m not certain when it was last used for any kind of problem. Perhaps the attempted raid a few millennia ago in Lyr’s grandfather’s time.”
“Someone tried to raid?” Maddy asked as she followed Lynia through the library door. “I didn’t think you had that much turmoil here. Assassins aside. And I guess there was that thing with Kai’s not-dad. Still.”
“There haven’t been any wars in at least ten millennia, if that’s what you mean. But I’m not sure any society exists without some feuding from time to time. I can find you a book on the raid later, but you’ll need to remind me. We have a virus to learn how to destroy.”
Maddy gave a sharp nod. “Right.”
After setting her notebook on the table, Lynia gathered several books from the stack from Earth and brought those over, too. She’d begun to understand more of the information while working with Maddy, even if much of the technical vocabulary was beyond her. At least now that she’d learned the basics of how viruses worked, she could hunt for information on how they could be killed.
Together, she and Maddy searched through the books, making note of any relevant information. They had to pause to puzzle out the meaning far too often, but after half a mark, Lynia found a helpful passage. The protein layer shielding the interior—that was what needed to be broken so the DNA inside could be destroyed.
“Do humans have methods for this?” Lynia asked.
Maddy frowned. “It depends on the virus. Some can be killed by washing well with soap. Externally, of course. A basic cleansing spell might take care of those. Some need chemical disinfectants or astringents. Otherwise, the immune system has to take care of it. Some viruses aren’t destroyed at all.”
Lynia tapped her pen lightly against her notebook. “I don’t know what to suggest. I suppose I’ll write all of this down and let Lial sort it out. I don’t like
that, though.”
If she was supposed to be discovering crucial information as Ralan had prophesied, then why could she find nothing but trails to nowhere? She should be able to understand these concepts, as foreign as they were. She should be able to interpret everything and then provide the answers. Yet here she was, handing Lial a bunch of jumbled pieces to solve. It wasn’t right.
“Why do you expect to have the knowledge of a trained healer?” Maddy asked. “I have the healing gift, but I don’t understand most of this. Ralan didn’t say you had to solve this single-handedly, did he?”
Lynia’s shoulders slumped. “No.”
Another voice echoed across the room. “Good, because I have books to add.”
Surprised, Lynia glanced to the door where Selia had just entered, an armful of books balanced against her chest. “I thought you’d be helping with spellwork.”
“Plenty of time for that.” Selia placed the stack in front of Lynia. “In fact, I’m going to go check with Lyr now. But I contacted a friend and former classmate at the Citadel, and she remembered the same reference I did. She sent these to me.”
Lynia read the topmost title. On the Folly of Abuiarn: Or, A Study on the Dangers of Mixed Magic. This was an old tome, and the inscription on the first page revealed it to be a copy of an even older version. A thrill went through her, and her fingers itched to skim through the delicate pages.
This was it—it had to be.
She barely managed to give her thanks to Selia before turning to the contents listing. Scanning the notations, she almost missed the page she was looking for. Interlopers: The Increasing Problem with Galare, 433. Her heart pounded as she turned to the right spot. Hadn’t Cora wondered if Bleyiak might be Galaren?
As hope and nervousness fluttered in her belly, Lynia began to read.
Kai picked his way carefully along the path to the fairy pond, the sludge from the mages’ last attempt to clear the ice sucking at his boots. Here and there, patches had already started to refreeze, and the farther he walked, the worse the problem became. Eventually, the cleared area disappeared altogether. He bent down to attach spikes to his boots so he could continue along the remote trail leading to the pond.
The call had hit him moments after the shield had gone up around the estate. No coincidence, surely. If Princess Nia had been uncertain about how to proceed, walling off the lands surrounding Braelyn would have prodded her into a decision. The question, of course, was the decision itself.
As he approached the fairies’ land, a subtle glow filled the forest, the blue light blending with the greenish echoes of the shield high above. Kai had to narrow his eyes against the strength of it. What was going on? There was a constant barrier around the pond, one that couldn’t always be crossed, but it rarely emitted such light.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long to solve the mystery once he’d reached the usual entry point. The shield around the fairies’ land burned bright and solid, so thick Kai couldn’t see through. Whatever the princess had to say, she wouldn’t be delivering it to him inside her realm.
Or at least, not with him inside. The barrier wavered, opaque easing to nearly transparent, and the princess appeared on the other side. Though sympathy lined her expression, there was also a hard resolve there that told its own story—especially combined with the shield.
“Good evening, Princess Niesanelalli,” Kai said, bowing slightly.
“Forgive the rudeness of this greeting,” the princess replied, her voice echoing hollowly through the barrier. “We have decided to close our lands until this current danger has passed.”
“Am I to assume your seers predicted something dire for your people?”
Princess Nia shook her head. “On the contrary. This virus has no ability to infect us, for it will not take hold in those who shift forms. But there could be other chaos to come. We will be of no aid, but we could sustain harm.”
Other chaos? Kai scowled, uncertain if he wanted to ask. But he had to. “What else could there be?”
“It is the same trouble, in truth.” Nia studied him for a long moment. “Every event ripples, each swell and dip spreading ever outward. Follow your past trouble to find future cares. If you do not address every grievance, Braelyn will see more bloodshed than it has in millennia. As will other places, but our seers have less care about examining them.”
“I assume your healers will offer no help in this crisis,” Kai said, mustering every bit of calm he could find. “Did you call me here only to deliver that warning?”
Her sad, regretful smile was answer enough, but she had the grace to confirm it. “I dared not send such a message broadly. I hope you will not hold a grudge against our people, but our healers have no knowledge of this affliction. We will wall ourselves off safely and provide no distraction.”
It wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for, but at least they wouldn’t have to worry about sick fairies, too. “I will not speak for the Myern in this, but I do not believe he will hold enmity toward you or your people. On the contrary, he will no doubt appreciate the warning you have delivered.”
“I hope you are correct,” Princess Nia replied. “Myern Lyrnis is a good ally.”
Although they bid an easy farewell, worry picked at Kai on the way back to the estate like the tiny icicles that dropped from the branches above. Address every grievance. What did she mean by that? How far back did this go?
He had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer.
Chapter 29
One of Korel’s broken ribs slipped, slicing into an artery, and the decision was made.
“I don’t know what the virus will do after this,” Lial murmured, already directing his power to stop the bleeding. “Or if we’ll catch it.”
Suddenly, Korel began to convulse, and as his limbs flailed, Lial pinned the man’s arms down and prayed to Bera he wasn’t dooming himself in the process. But it had to be done. Each twitch and tremor did more damage to Korel’s barely stabilized wounds. Lial poured magic recklessly into the area around the man’s broken ribs to prevent more from slipping and to seal the damaged artery.
Alerielle shifted to Korel’s head, and her eyes closed as she used her power to find and stop the cause of the convulsions. By the time his body was still once more, the elder healer’s shoulders drooped with exhaustion, and the lines carved into her face stood out in stark relief in the shadowed light.
Her lips turned down. “This may not end well.”
Lial nodded, though he wasn’t willing to concede. Caeleth’s injuries had been dire, too, but he’d survived. Not even the virus made the situation hopeless. So Lial closed out the world around himself and concentrated on the injuries at hand. First, he ensured the artery was repaired. Then he used his magic to reseat the ribs and start the bones mending. With no iron involved, it wasn’t long until they were knit enough for him to move on to other fractures.
If Kezari had been there in that moment, Lial might have throttled her, even if it would see him eaten. What had she been thinking to dive on Korel like a raptor searching for its next meal? There were so many breaks, tears, and bruises it would take ages to find and heal them all despite the presence of two full healers.
Lial sighed and shrugged away the sweat from his brow with his upper arm. His muscles trembled from the effort he’d expended, but there would be more. So much more. Because as soon as the life-threatening injuries had been stabilized, he checked again for the virus.
It was everywhere.
Eating away at the lungs beneath the ribs Lial had repaired. Replicating in the organs. Attacking the brain. If this could be killed by pouring in energy like the other versions Lial had treated, then it had to require immense levels of magic. The rib area alone had taken a great deal of power to repair, but the virus hadn’t been phased.
“I don’t know what to do,” Lial confessed, the words burning his throat.
When she glanced up, Alerielle’s hand still hovered over the concussion she’d healed on Korel’s
head. “Nor do I, save this.”
“Do you see how the flecks of darkness have spread?” he asked. “Examine them. They have their own inai but do not create life.”
As soon as she checked for herself, her eyes widened. “Bera bless us. I have no experience with such a thing.”
For a moment, Lial allowed the bleak despair to wash over him, growing like the disease he didn’t know how to cure. He’d trained for everything he’d believed possible, but he hadn’t trained for this. Now, everything relied on the fractured, incomplete knowledge they’d managed to gather before disaster hit. It wasn’t enough.
Gods be with him, he had to make it enough—no matter the cost.
“I’m going to see if more healing energy will help,” Lial said quietly. “I’ll be drained after. Why don’t you let me check you for the virus while I am able, and then you can warn the others?”
Alerielle straightened, her shoulders shoving back with a snap. “I think not. I’ve lived over ten thousand years, young one, but I am hardly feeble. I will help.”
“I don’t know how this is transmitted. Every moment we linger here brings us greater risk.”
“So be it.” The other healer’s lips thinned. “Though I do ask this. If I should succumb, save my other patient. She has suffered enough.”
His blood chilled with the same foreboding he’d experienced earlier. “Who?”
She averted her gaze. “Lady Elerie.”
Lial blinked. Then blinked again. He couldn’t have heard her correctly. The only Lady Elerie he knew was Kai’s mother, dead for more than five hundred years. Allafon had pushed her down the stairs not long after Kai’s birth.
“When I realized I couldn’t repair her wounds, I placed her into the dreaming,” Alerielle whispered. “Then I hid her until Allafon was defeated.”
Great gods. She was serious. “Is that why you’ve been seeking spine healing techniques?”
“Yes.”
Lial shook his head to clear it, but the confession still rang in his ears. Though it sounded impossible, it wasn’t. He’d seen others who’d remained in a dreaming state for longer. But for Alerielle to have hidden this from Lady Elerie’s sons… There was no telling how they would handle this news. Especially Kai, who’d never had a chance to meet his mother.
Solace Page 29