Solace

by Bethany Adams

  It was a risky thing, trying a potion he hadn’t personally seen tested. A concoction vaguely mentioned in an ancient book? But what choice did they have? The man had shifted from flushed to a sallow white, and a brief glance at his wound revealed the reason—the barely healed flesh had torn open once more. Traces of blood welled in the yellowed scabs and trailed down his side.

  “How is it administered?” Lial asked.

  “Orally.” Lynia marched across the room with a determined stride, though her hold on the vial was gentle. “There was no mention of any other method. I don’t know if it would be effective to pour on the wound.”

  Lial took the vial and lifted it, peering through the glass to the liquid within. He probed it with his magic as deeply as he dared, and he didn’t find any components that would cause harm if applied topically. That didn’t mean there weren’t any, though. How much time did they have? He flashed his magic across the mage for the briefest of scans.

  The virus had accelerated its reproduction in the couple of marks since his last examination. If he didn’t act, the man would be nearly as sick as Korel by nightfall. It was time to trust Lynia’s research and Ralan’s prophecy. Either they would defeat this plague together, or they would all be overrun.

  Decided, Lial removed the stopper from the vial, tipped Caeleth’s head back, and poured a sip between his lips. “How much?”

  “Half a vial now and the rest in another mark.”

  Lial nodded and eased more of the potion between the mage’s lips. Then again and again until half was gone. It was surprisingly difficult not to upend the entire thing into the man’s mouth for good measure, but he knew well enough that more was not always a boon.

  After replacing the stopper, Lial slipped the vial into his pocket and studied the wound. He needed to do a deeper examination with magic. Had any of the interior stitches burst, or was the damage on the outside only? More injury to the man’s organs could be a disaster in this situation, releasing toxins and bacteria into an already ravaged body. He didn’t dare risk using his healing magic, though.

  Miaran.

  “I’m going to have to reopen this wound,” he murmured.

  Lynia, who had just returned with the tobahn tincture, let out a gasp. “You’ll be… But the blood…”

  It was a risk to come in contact with the infected blood, that was certain. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much choice. “Did the book say how long that potion takes to work?”

  “Several marks beyond the second dose to work fully,” Lynia whispered, her gaze locked on the trail of blood on Caeleth’s side. “But I’m guessing he can’t wait that long.”

  Lial sighed. “No.”

  “Do you not have any protective gear?” Maddy demanded from her spot at the head of the bed. “Seriously, nothing? No gloves or masks? Safety glasses?”

  Lial frowned at her. “With cleansing spells, why would we develop something else? After thousands upon thousands of years, no one has considered the possibility of a plague. Even Abuiarn is an anomaly, one few remember.”

  “Then it’s something to think about.” Maddy’s eyes narrowed on her own hand as she dipped the cloth back in the water. “Crap. I’m contacting his sweat here. I should be wearing protective gloves.”

  After ordering Elan to retrieve the pouch containing his surgical tools, Lial took the second vial of tobahn from Lynia and dispensed a single sip to Caeleth. With luck, it would successfully treat the fever alongside the other potion, but he was uncomfortably aware of how uncertain all of this was. Including his own safety.

  Lial met Lynia’s eyes. “I will do my best to keep myself protected.”

  Though her expression was somber, she nodded. “Thank you.”

  He took the kit from Elan and checked to ensure the tools he would need were all there. Normally, he would shift his patient to the stone table, but the less Caeleth was moved, the better. The bedding would already need to be burned, after all.

  Before he could proceed, Lyr’s mind brushed against his. Lial sat back in his chair, gritting his teeth even as he opened communication. “What? I’m about to do surgery.”

  “Caolte is sick, too.”

  Lyr didn’t need to say anything more to have Lial cursing aloud, drawing more than one concerned glance. “Same as Naomh?”

  “Not yet as bad. And Naomh has gotten worse.” Dread slipped through Lyr’s mental tone. “Dare I ask who you’re doing surgery on?”

  Not just dread—pain lined the edges of their link. “Why do I sense pain? Are you injured?”

  “I sent out a mental call to everyone outside the healing tower, and now my head hurts. That’s all,” Lyr explained. “Now answer the question.”

  “Caeleth. I have to re-stitch his wound.” Without magic, too. Lial did a quick mental search of his herbs for anything that would reduce such extreme pain. Something he had never had to consider before. “Lynia created a potion we’re testing against the virus.”

  “Well, we need to test it on Naomh. He’s apparently near death.”

  Lial stood, his chair scraping against the floor with the force. “Near death?”

  “So I’m told.” Lyr paused. “What do you advise?”

  “I don’t know. Let me think. I’ll contact you when I decide.”

  With little choice, Lial braved a scan of Caeleth’s wound with his magic. So many of the internal stitches had shredded that he let out a weary sigh. Staying here and leaving Naomh and Caolte to their fate would earn him no friends—it might even lose him one in Kai. But this had to be repaired. The nastiness spilling from the mage’s stomach would kill him before even the virus could.

  “What is it?” Lynia asked.

  “Your son contacted me. Caolte is now ill, and Naomh has worsened.” Avoiding the others’ surprised glances, Lial hurried over to the shelf of potions and grabbed three. “However, if I leave here, Caeleth will die.”

  He couldn’t forget Ralan’s warning, one he’d thought was because of the assassin. Caeleth’s death could cause decades of trouble for Lyr. Maybe centuries. Caeleth needs to be guarded. But it hadn’t been an attack they’d needed to shield against. It was this.

  Maddy lowered the cloth into the pitcher and met his eyes. “I can help. Maybe if Lynia tells me what to do, I can administer the new potion?”

  “I’ll go with you,” Lynia said to the younger woman. “I created the concoction, and my age will earn me respect where they might doubt you. No offense intended, of course.”

  “None taken,” Maddy said. Then she shook her head. “It’s a smart idea. I’ve had run-ins with these two Sidhe lords before. They aren’t enemies, but I wouldn’t call them friends, either.”

  Fen and Anna joined them, getting close enough that Lial tensed. There were far too many in the room with a deadly virus for his comfort. “I’m not certain about this plan. You aren’t ready to heal something like this, Maddy. And Lynia…”

  “I do hope you aren’t about to utter some drivel about me needing your protection.”

  As he spread his pouch of tools across the bed beside Caeleth, Lial exhaled through his nose and tried to shake off his nerves. Wordlessly, he handed the vials to Elan and ran a cleansing spell over his hands and the patient’s stomach. He could only hope it wouldn’t trigger the virus to replicate.

  “Lyni, you know the reason for my fear. It’s similar to your own.” Her lips tightened, and his hands burned with the need to grip hers. But he couldn’t. “I’m trying not to let that rule me anymore. I love you, but I don’t control you.”

  “Is that supposed to be agreement?” someone muttered.

  Lial was too busy staring at Lynia to care who.

  Her eyes gleamed wetly, but she only nodded. “We need to do this. Shield yourself, too.”

  He didn’t have to ask what she meant—the full import was clear. They were both taking risks. Lial caressed her with his gaze, letting the weight of his emotions reside in full view. Then he bent over Caeleth, and remembering M
addy’s earlier words, he placed a thin shield of energy between his face and the surgery site. Probably not ample by human standards, but it was the best he could do on short notice.

  “Would you tell Lyr the plan? Elan and I will do our best to save Caeleth.” Lial nodded at Elan, who administered the first vial. It would work rapidly thanks to the magic imbued within—a blessing and a curse if the magic caused the virus to spread. Another risk he had no choice but to take. “And tell him to send Tynan to Aris once he arrives.”

  “Of course,” Lynia said. “I’ll have a vial sent to Morenial, too.”

  He didn’t have time to curse himself for forgetting yet another patient. The task at hand could no longer wait. “Thank you. If you need me while you’re gone, test the ring. For you, I will answer. No one else.”

  Then he selected his sharpest knife and thought through each step of the coming surgery—each angle and possible outcome. He barely noticed when the others left.

  Eri sat on her window seat, her cheek resting on her upturned knees as she stared out the glass at the early morning light. Across the room, Iren was fast asleep, curled up in the armchair he’d claimed when they returned from dinner. She’d pretended to be all right so he wouldn’t worry, but she had a feeling he knew.

  Her father had returned from helping Lord Lyr in the middle of the night, not too many marks before dawn, but Eri hadn’t gone out there. For some reason, she didn’t want her father’s comfort. Or maybe she didn’t want him to lie to her anymore.

  He thought she wouldn’t guess that something was terribly wrong, even though it was obvious. Whatever it was, it had to be the reason her Sight was blocked. Unless the goddess was upset with her. Eri nibbled on her lower lip and tried not to think about that. Not being able to See well was bad enough.

  Her father hadn’t even noticed how bothered she was by her messed up Sight. She hadn’t minded the missing pieces at first, assuming there was some grown-up reason for the blank strands around Lial. Then she’d stopped seeing Lynia’s future, too. She’d barely had a chance to nudge the two together.

  Yep. Something was wrong. She was young, not stupid.

  But maybe the problem was within her. She’d made so many mistakes, and now people were afraid of her. Was it because she’d accidentally gotten Iren hurt by leading him into that cave? Or helping him rearrange stuff in the tower where his father needed to stay? She might have been so bad that even the goddess wanted her to stop Seeing the futures so much. And Iren. He’d acted strange around her since they’d come back from dinner.

  Eri pinched her eyes tighter and reached for the strands. There were a lot, so many futures it took her a moment to orient herself. But at the same time…holes. Too many holes, the threads completely invisible. She could see a lot of variations of herself, her family, her baby sister…then nothing.

  Her heart pounded as she searched for Iren’s strands. So much missing, and the rest scrambled. And she couldn’t find a why. Why couldn’t she find a why? Random images of his parents flickered through and then disappeared. Were they all going to die or something?

  She heard the door open, but she didn’t open her eyes. She could feel her father’s energy without looking, and she didn’t want to hear him tell her to stop Looking. How could she ignore this? It was her destiny to Look and to plan. She couldn’t even remember when she’d first known it.

  It just…was.

  Her father lifted her from the seat and then settled down with her in his lap. “Eri.”

  “Don’t bother,” she whispered, though she couldn’t resist tucking her head against his neck. “I know you’re going to lie.”

  He sighed against her hair. “I’m not.”

  “Fine. Are we going to die?” she challenged.

  He stayed silent so long that she slumped in resignation. But then he surprised her by answering. “I don’t think so, but it isn’t impossible.”

  Eri sat up straight so she could meet his eyes. “Why can’t I See?”

  “I think you know,” he answered.

  “The goddess said there were some things a child shouldn’t experience in a vision.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “I thought maybe it was adult stuff at first, but…”

  Her father tucked her hair away from her face with a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Eri. I wanted to guard you, but I can feel your distress from the other room. The truth is, there’s an illness out there. A virus that can hurt our kind. The potential number of dead…that’s what the goddess doesn’t want you to experience.”

  “I have known of bad stuff before without witnessing it,” Eri said. “Lady Megelien blurs my Sight. I didn’t actually See you sort of die even though I knew.”

  “The scope of this could be great, beloved.” He kissed her forehead. “But it isn’t your fault, and you haven’t been bad. Perhaps we should start working together instead of against each other, hmm?”

  Eri smiled at that. “Okay.”

  “Good,” he said. “Then I’ll give you a mission. Keep Iren here. We need his father to get his next healing session without interruption. Think you can do that?”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged. “You know it.”

  Chapter 37

  After grabbing the last three potions from the rack, Lynia headed straight to her rooms, no hesitation in her stride. Behind her, Maddy and her mates trailed, but Lynia didn’t ask why. She left them waiting while she sent one of the vials to Morenial and then connected with Lyr and updated him on the latest happenings, including their current plan. While she expected him to protest out of his usual protectiveness, he didn’t argue.

  “I’ll send two of the elite guard with you,” he insisted. Not a surprise. “Naomh and Caolte are our allies now, but if either of them should die…”

  She smiled as she strapped a knife to her thigh and tugged on a pair of pants with a slit in the pocket so she could draw the blade free. After shrugging into a short, long-sleeved tunic, she wrapped a belt holding another knife around her waist. Lynia had learned more than one trick for self-protection since being attacked.

  But even so, she wasn’t a warrior. “If they are willing to take the risk, I would welcome their aid. There are no guarantees this potion will work for anyone.”

  “I will ensure that they understand.” Weariness and worry filled her son’s tone, making her heart ache. “Kai is going to assist Inona in helping you through so he can keep his distance. She has agreed to accompany you, too.”

  “Thank you.” Lynia attached a hard leather pouch to her belt and stuck the vials of potion inside before heading to the door. “Have them meet me at the portal. I’m going there now.”

  She could feel, then, how much Lyr didn’t want her to do this. His frustration was like a humming spell in the back of his mind, fighting to be free. But he didn’t say a word about it. “I love you, Laiala. Be safe.”

  “I love you, too, tieln.”

  Lynia let her feelings slip across their mental link before they disconnected. If she’d learned one thing in her long life, it was the importance of telling others how she felt. She’d rarely said the words with Telien, taking their link for granted. Why repeat what the other knew? But sometimes, the words were their own reward. A purposeful thought rather than background noise.

  She closed her bedroom door behind her and froze as a memory hit. I love you, but I don’t control you. Lial had said the words, but had she answered in kind? She searched her mind but couldn’t remember amidst the chaos and worry. And yes, fear. She’d hinted that she might the night before, but she hadn’t granted him any certainty. Now, she was heading into danger. Hardly a war, of course, but not a casual journey.

  Maddy straightened from the wall where she’d leaned beside her mates. “Lynia?”

  “I wish I could contact Lial, but I don’t want to distract him right now.” He would undoubtedly want to hear about her feelings, though not during major surgery. “I’ll have to tell him what I forgot later.”

&nbs
p; “Hey, maybe the ring will work across dimensions,” Fen said as he and Anna approached. “Glad to see Lial took my advice.”

  Why did Lynia have the feeling she didn’t want to know more? Not that she would hurt Fen’s feelings by saying so. “I regret to report that he didn’t share the source of his inspiration.”

  “Worry about it later, Fen,” Maddy said, sending her mate a cross look. “We need to go.”

  Lynia started down the hallway, trusting the others to keep pace. “Are Fen and Anna accompanying us to the portal?”

  “They are coming with us,” the young woman countered.

  “Really?” Lynia lifted a brow. “I do not recall agreeing to such a thing.”

  “Think about it.” Although Maddy’s voice held a hard edge, there was a pleading light in her eyes. “The three of us purged a similar darkness from the Seelie queen before anyone knew what it was. Maybe Meren infected Naomh with the same thing. If the potion doesn’t work on this version, we might be able to pull it from his blood the same way.”

  Lynia considered that as they descended the spiral staircase and exited through the front doors. Cold wrapped around them, and she pulled up the hood of her cloak without breaking stride. An unspoken question replayed in her mind with each step—was it worth the risk of exposure? They’d already been too close to Caeleth in the healing tower.

  But Maddy’s argument was sound. They’d found a solution for a similar illness using a different method. Except… “Why didn’t you attempt this on Caeleth?”

  “The virus in him is actively reproducing, but the one inside the Seelie queen was inert. After what we’ve learned here, I sort of wonder what Meren planned to do to activate it.”

  “If Naomh and Caolte are sick, doesn’t that mean their version isn’t inert?” Lynia asked.

  “Maybe.” The younger woman shrugged. “If there’s a chance it isn’t, we might as well have the three of us there together so no one has to travel back and forth.”

  “The risk…”