Solace

by Bethany Adams

  Time to prove he was capable.

  Chapter 40

  Lynia’s breathing hitched as she climbed the stairs up to Lial’s room. Her fingers tightened around the vial until she forced herself to relax lest she break the glass. Gods, she didn’t want to see him like this. But he’d stayed with her through more than one injury, and she found she could do no less for him, no matter how it hurt. Until Aris arrived to work on the potion, she would offer comfort.

  And the fertility potion. Elan had concluded that it would have no effect on Lial since it was not the blend designed to increase male fertility and nothing within the mixture would cause harm. There was every chance that the life magic imbued into the tincture would do no good, either, but she had to try something. Elan had drained as much magic as he could from Lial, but the younger healer had no ability to block his magic’s regeneration.

  As soon as her head rose above the line of the floor, a strange blue light caught her eye. Had Elan left a mage globe on in the middle of the day? But by the time she was halfway across the room, the source became clear—and had her halting a few paces from the bed.

  At the foot of the bed, a small camahr curled, the light on its tail glowing softly where it rested against the top of Lial’s leg. The creature lifted its head and pinned her with its gaze, clearly taking her measure. Lynia held still and let it. She didn’t bother to ask how it had gotten into the room, for the camahr were sly creatures.

  This one had clearly chosen Lial.

  The camahr stood, stretching its long, lithe body before turning a circle to curl up once more. Dismissing her, it settled its long snout against its paws, the fine fur around its toes fluffing out like feathers against the coverlet. No one knew how the camahr judged ally from enemy, much less chose a companion, but this one appeared to find her acceptable. She hoped.

  Her steps slower, Lynia advanced, but the camahr ignored her. Mostly. Its long ears twitched as though listening to her motions, and the light on the tip of its tail pulsed from time to time. She was so intent on ensuring the creature didn’t take exception to her presence that she was beside the bed before she truly glanced at Lial.

  Then she did, and a strangled cry slipped from her lips.

  It wasn’t that he looked a great deal different than he had during normal sleep, at least on the surface. His expression wasn’t pained, and his breathing was slow and steady. Elan must have tucked the blanket around Lial’s arms, since both were beneath the bedding. The scene was too neat and perfect, no twitch or restless motion to break the stillness. He would have looked much the same stretched out upon the litter heading toward his funeral pyre.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and bit her lower lip until she nearly drew blood. But lingering on her own pain delayed her goal—to offer comfort, not require it. Stiffening her spine, Lynia tucked the vial into her pocket as she peered around the room, finally spotting a chair to drag over. Her back twinged, and she rubbed it absently as she sat at Lial’s side. He would be annoyed at her for exerting herself like that. No doubt, he would be running healing magic through the muscles and fussing if he could.

  She twisted her fingers together in her lap in a futile effort to regain control of her wayward emotions, but she couldn’t keep her hands still for long. With a broken sigh, she tucked a strand of his hair, red like the blood that had injured him, behind his ear and traced her gaze over his face. The skin beneath her fingertips didn’t feel hot the way Caeleth’s had, so that was something, but the shadows under his eyes were darker than she was used to.

  How many times had she waited much like this as Lial healed someone she loved? Wringing her hands at their bedside, useless to help. Only a few months ago, she’d had to do that very thing as Lyr fought for life after being attacked and left for dead. There was no shame in it, of course, since healing was beyond her talents. But she had knowledge of this virus and an idea that might help. She didn’t have to sit here doing nothing.

  Not this time.

  Lynia’s hands went cold and damp as she withdrew the vial from her pocket and uncorked it. Then she paused, considering. Would he instinctively swallow? Should she lift him? She slipped her hand through his hair and settled her palm against the base of his skull, tipping his head forward before settling the glass against his lips. It took quite a few tries, but little by little, she got the concoction into him.

  The camahr lifted its head as she settled Lial back against the pillow, but although the glow from its tail intensified, she didn’t detect any threat from the creature. Could it be contributing magic in some way? If so, it wasn’t a type that she could identify. She watched the camahr for several drips, but it rested its head atop its paws again with no further action.

  Lynia returned her attention to Lial. She wasn’t certain what she should be looking for, but best she could tell, there was no change in him after the potion. She had no power to scan for the virus, no way to know how deeply it spread. All she could do was sit and wait.

  And pray.

  Standing in a creepy ass hallway deep underneath a Seelie lord’s palace wasn’t Fen’s idea of a good time.

  How long were they going to wait here for the damned potion to work? Periodically, Maddy scanned Caolte to observe the virus’s reaction, but otherwise, they were apparently going to stare at each other all night. He and Anna finally shifted to lean against the wall since no one offered them a chair.

  When an hour had passed, Inona returned, escorted by one of the Seelie guards. This time, instead of waiting at the far end of the hallway, she joined them. The scout’s assessing gaze took in all of them, and he had no doubt she made note of everything, right down to his boredom.

  “Is it working?” Inona finally asked.

  Maddy narrowed her eyes on Caolte for a second before nodding. “Yeah. It’s almost time for the second dose, too. It doesn’t appear to have affected him otherwise. No obvious side effects.”

  Inona frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Some treatments can cause a reaction in the body,” Maddy explained. “It’s fairly common with human medicines. Like…a salve to heal bruises causing someone to break out in a rash.”

  Caolte’s hands flew up, and Fen’s lips twitched as the guy stared at his skin as though a rash would appear at any moment. “Relax, man. What’s a rash if it means surviving the plague?”

  “Would such a reaction remain a mere rash?” Caolte asked, one eyebrow lifting.

  “Most of the time,” Maddy said cheerfully. “We won’t think about any other options.”

  Caolte scowled. “I am uncertain—”

  “Time to take the rest.” Maddy’s lips firmed into a stern line. “You said you were willing to test this for your brother’s sake, right?”

  She had the guy there. Grinning, Fen watched as the half-Unseelie lord downed the rest of the vial and then glared down at the tiny swirl of violet remaining in the bottom. Apparently, all the talk of side effects had lessened the man’s drive to be helpful.

  “What about the tiny bit left?”

  Maddy shrugged. “I don’t know. Get what you can, I guess.”

  As they waited for Caolte to deem the potion safe enough for Naomh, Fen started to consider locking himself in one of the dungeon cells just for something to do. Or wandering the weird, abandoned rooms they’d traveled through. Surely the dead-end staircases and hallways had been illusions. For all he knew, they had a television and game system hidden behind a mirage spell.

  Okay, probably not, but a guy could dream.

  When Maddy scanned Caolte again, Fen decided to see if he could spot the virus like darkness in the man’s blood. While he did catch a few hints, that wasn’t what stood out the most. No, there was something else. A flavor he’d tasted before. He’d been working with Vek on identifying family connections and tracing them, but that wasn’t quite this. Maybe.

  “Are you related to the Unseelie royal family?” Fen asked.

  A spark of flame flickered in Caolte’s ha
ir, and the man slammed a shield between them with a fierce glare. “Keep your powers to yourself, whelp.”

  Whelp? Really? Fen laughed. “That’s a little antiquated, don’t you think? You could have just said no. Or yes. I don’t give a damn. Honestly, I don’t know a quarter of the people I’m related to.”

  “My Unseelie family is not up for discussion,” Caolte snapped.

  “Whatever,” Fen answered. He didn’t need to ask any more questions. From the way the guy reacted, it was obvious they had some connection, however faint, but Caolte was sensitive about it. “I don’t need more annoying relatives, anyway.”

  Anna curled her arm around Fen’s, and the pointed look she gave him had his mouth pinching closed. That was definitely her you’re making things worse, so shut the fuck up expression, and he had to admit she was usually right. So he kept his attention away from the cranky Unseelie bastard as the wait continued.

  And. Continued.

  Lynia couldn’t help but smile at the look on Elan’s face when he spied the camahr stretched along Lial’s calves. The creature must have arrived between the time he’d sent Lial to sleep and her return. But although fear widened the young healer’s eyes, he approached the head of the bed with less reserve than she might have expected. Well. He couldn’t be lacking in bravery to work with Lial at his crankiest.

  “Did the camahr arrive with you?” Elan asked as she scooted her chair down to make room.

  “No.” Lynia studied the furry, gray creature. Tiny white specks dotted its pelt, and the thick hair on its paws was the color of snow. “I don’t know how it got here.”

  The healer’s lips thinned. “I hope it doesn’t cause harm. It doesn’t seem safe to have a wild creature in the same room as a patient, even if Lial has been feeding the beasts for a while.”

  “Do you dislike them?” she asked, eyebrows rising.

  “They are fine for those who aren’t sick,” Elan explained. He flicked a glance toward the camahr. “And once solidly bonded, they are excellent companions. They’ve been known to offer support to the blind, for example. But a wild camahr? They are unpredictable.”

  Out of some strange impulse, Lynia stretched her hand toward the creature. It lifted its head, its ears swiveling toward her as her fingers neared its face. She paused to let the camahr sniff her skin, and when it showed no hostility, she dared to touch the bridge of its long snout. The creature let out a rumble-huff and lowered its head back to the coverlet where it nuzzled Lial’s leg.

  “I think the camahr has made its choice clear,” Lynia murmured. “Lial certainly tried long enough to tempt one.”

  A wave of grief closed her throat at that. He’d fed and protected this kit’s mother through at least one other litter, patiently hoping one might find him worthy. And now that one had, Lial might never wake to see it. What kind of horrible world allowed an injustice like that? It wasn’t right.

  Her eyes burned with tears, and she pressed her palms against her eyelids in a futile attempt to hold back the pain. She had to do this. She couldn’t break down now, not when Lial needed her. She sucked in a deep breath and lowered her hands, though she let the tears flow silently as she stared at the man she loved.

  “I wish I had the ability to scan him,” Elan said quietly. “I can’t reach a detailed enough level to find this virus.”

  Lynia sniffled. “I’m not sure knowing would help. We can’t do anything but wait until Aris arrives.”

  She rested her hand against Lial’s lower arm, hating the cloth between their skin. She wanted to be curled against him, offering comfort, but he would have fussed at her for touching him at all. To her, it was worth the risk of infection. If it wouldn’t have disturbed his rest, she would have pulled his hand from beneath the blankets just to hold it.

  The muscle beneath her fingers twitched, and Lynia leaned closer, peering at his face. Was he grimacing? Lial’s nose twitched. Then his lips. Could he be dreaming in this state, or was he somehow waking?

  “Is something wrong?” she asked Elan.

  The healer frowned for a moment before letting out a curse. “He’s fighting free of my spell. Gods. I knew I wouldn’t be strong enough to hold him unconscious, and his magic is beginning to surge. We need a stronger healer.”

  Lynia rarely used the spell that connected her to everyone on the estate, especially since Lyr had become Myern, but she didn’t hesitate after Lial’s arm spasmed beneath her hand. They needed help. Within a few heartbeats, she found Tynan walking with Aris on the far edge of the main estate, and she requested a connection with Tynan with such force that he would surely realize the urgency at once.

  “Lady Lynia?”

  “We need another healer at the tower,” she said at once. “Now.”

  Through the estate link, she could sense his approach quickening before he answered. “What’s wrong?”

  With her heart pounding in her ears, she told him everything. Every sensation she could describe and every observation Elan relayed. The less time wasted, the better.

  Lial floated in a dark gray haze, his awareness flickering like the pale blue light pulsing at the edge of his sight. A dull pain nagged at him, but he couldn’t define the source. Instinctively, he summoned his magic to scan for the cause of his discomfort, but the action caused a new spear of pain through his head.

  At least he didn’t have to wonder about the location of that agony.

  Before he could try again, he sensed Lynia’s presence. “Rest, love,” she whispered into his mind.

  “I ache,” he tried to send back.

  Lial had no clue if he succeeded, but Lynia’s spirit surrounded his mind like a lullaby, and he let himself sink into the comfort of her essence. “No need to use your magic. I’m watching over you,” she said. “Sleep.”

  With a soft sigh, he let himself drift.

  Chapter 41

  Lynia found the link with Lial surprisingly easy to maintain even when she was distracted by the sounds of Tynan’s arrival down below. At first, she’d considered whether the strength of their connection might be due to the ring, but its spell was inactive. Yet it was as though they’d spoken on this level before, deep and quiet. Why was this so familiar? Memory tickled the edges of her mind, but when the other healer entered the room, the thought slipped away.

  She studied Tynan with a critical eye as he came to a halt beside the bed. “Are you a powerful enough healer to scan for illness?” she asked.

  He settled his hand against his hip, just above one of the flowers embroidered down the side of his robe. She’d forgotten he was a priest of Bera, the Goddess of Healing, and she tried to take that as a sign that her prayers from before had been answered. Even if his expression was a touch more smug than she would generally associate with a priest of such a benevolent deity.

  “I am, though mind healing is my greater talent,” Tynan replied. “Elan showed me the vial of tainted blood, and I think I can identify anything similar in Lial’s body. The trick will be doing so without utilizing much magic.”

  Lynia nodded. “Especially since you’ll need to use magic to send him into a deeper sleep. I was able to calm him enough to keep him from using his power on himself out of instinct, but he still hovers near full awareness. He said he aches.”

  A frown creased the healer-priest’s brow, and he impatiently flicked away a strand of his short, white hair as he bent over Lial. The strand returned almost immediately to its previous spot, but Tynan didn’t appear to notice, his eyes slipping closed as he stretched out his hands. As with Lial’s magic, a glow lit the air, this one green instead of blue.

  At the foot of the bed, the camahr sat up on its haunches, and its eyes trained with unblinking intensity on Tynan. The priest ignored the creature, unlike Elan, and eventually the camahr’s hackles lowered as though it had discerned the other man’s good intentions. Fascinating. If not for the crisis at hand, she would have hunted down a book on the animals. She’d never heard of such a young kit becoming so protec
tive.

  Lynia shivered as a tickle of awareness distracted her. Lial was waking. She leaned forward, reaching out to calm him, but before she could make contact, the priest detected the problem. With abrupt certainty, he sent Lial into a deep sleep, one that strained the link she had formed. Though she didn’t want to, Lynia pulled her awareness back, leaving only the slightest connection.

  Better that than inadvertently disturbing him.

  It was only a moment before the healer’s gaze returned to her, the green glow of his magic winking out. “I do not believe the virus has concentrated in any one spot, but it has spread throughout his bloodstream. No doubt the cause of the ache.”

  Her eyes burned, but she held these tears back. “How bad is it?”

  “Not as dire as I suspected, but serious enough.” Tynan knitted his brows. “I detected a hint of life magic, which I believe has held the virus back. But not enough. We need to drain his energy. It isn’t an easy task under the best of circumstances, usually requiring cooperation from the patient for any chance of success. Not to mention that, unlike mages, we healers haven’t found a handy way to store power taken from another when it can be managed.”

  “Could Selia do this?” Lynia asked. “She sealed Aris’s life energy into crystals.”

  The priest shook his head. “The two types of energy are different, though you wouldn’t think so considering how healing is linked to life. But…there’s a fathomless connection in the energy linking all living things, a unifying factor that allows life mages to give energy to anyone. Healing techniques have many similarities, but the power behind them is as unique as the individual. Very personal. Aside from life mages, only blood relatives can share energy easily with a healer.”