Rane marched ahead of them like a standard bearer, shooing her people to either side to give them room. Ursilla hovered at his elbow, keeping a sharp eye on Sevana, which Arandur appreciated. She lay so still in his arms that he feared she’d fainted. Well, that might be a blessing in this circumstance, as she would need rest to recuperate. Her breath gusted across the bare skin of his neck in a gentle rhythm. It reassured him more than any amount of words.
More than a few people had gathered to see what was going on, lining the street on either side, allowing the four to pass while gathering a look. They did not like the state of their Artifactor benefactor, the mothers especially, as they were fond of Sellion for bringing them their children. Those that were not on the streets hovered from above the air bubble, swimming along on top and following. It made for a strange procession.
A few matched Arandur’s pace for a moment, offering any comfort or help they could, and Arandur patiently thanked them each time for the offer and promised to tell them when Sevana was awake again. It touched him that his sometimes prickly woman still made such deep ties of friendship in a foreign land, that relative strangers would feel the need to take care of her.
“She is well loved,” Ursilla noted. Something in her voice sounded vaguely surprised. “I knew that she’d brought us some children, but….”
“She’s done more for the Unda than that,” Rane corrected, tilting her head to speak over her shoulder. “She’s helped to guard our borders. She’s taken an enemy out of our territory safely and made sure she was punished for her offenses. She’s helped protect our land and people from a volcano up north, near Nanashi, and stayed to make sure that our land would recover afterwards. Sellion of South Woods is more than an ally, she is our friend. All of my people understand this.”
“Which was why you called for me and demanded she be treated here,” Ursilla completed wryly. “Yes, I now understand fully. You could have said all of this before, you know.”
Rane shrugged, as if it wasn’t really important. “You knew enough.”
As if realizing, Ursilla looked sharply up at Arandur. “She has done the same for South Woods, hasn’t she. That’s why Aranhil was so keen to take her in as a new daughter.”
“Something like it, yes. But in truth, even if she had not done so much for us, we would have loved her anyway.”
Ursilla snorted, not entirely disbelieving, but clearly realizing that she had asked a man with a biased opinion. Well, not that Arandur could refute that. He was admittedly prejudiced where Sevana was concerned.
Someone must have raced ahead to alert the healers, as three stood in the doorway, obviously waiting on them. Arandur had not met these three women before but was reassured by their magical auras, so clearly suited to their profession.
They had the good sense to not try and take Sevana from him, instead directing him with gentle touches and softly voiced instructions to come this way. In his current state, Arandur’s protective instincts ran hot, and just the idea of putting her down again did not sit well with him. He had to take many deep breaths to remind himself that it would be necessary to let others tend to her. It became a mantra in his head, although it took more than a few dozen repetitions to get it through to his instincts.
The air inside the domed-shaped building was perfectly clear, the walls and bedding a pure white, giving an ambiance of cleanliness and serenity. The building felt very large, enough to comfortably house dozens of patients, but they didn’t take him far inside. They directed him to the first room on the right, and he went through, only noting the furniture enough to avoid smacking his shins into it. Single bed, two chairs, small chest of drawers next to the bed, a narrow table that spanned the foot of the bed.
Gently, he laid Sevana down. The youngest of the three healers helped to draw Rane’s cloak off of her before returning it to the queen hovering in the doorway. Arandur stepped far back, to the corner of the room, allowing the three women to work. They clucked over the bloody claw marks in her skin, talking to themselves in a quick flurry of information and orders, hands moving and dispensing healing magic as they worked.
“Please, ladies,” Rane chided them. “I understand one word in three. How is she?”
The eldest matron, who was likely pushing the boundaries of elder, stepped away to answer. “She is alright, Rane. Her magical core is still transforming from its human origin, so we’ll need to monitor her closely overnight. I think it will be complete by morning. Her heart suffered considerable strain from the stress. She’s suffering from several wrenched and cramped muscles along her neck, spine, and thighs. But all of this can be dealt with. She’ll need rest, quiet, and carefully dosed healing spells over the next two days.”
Ursilla spoke for the first time, attention on Sevana. “I estimate we’ll need to wait on her treatments for another three days.”
“Likely five,” the healer counselled. Like most selkies, she had dark hair, although hers was greyer at her age, pulled up in a sensible bun, complimenting the all-white dress she wore. The woman radiated competence and authority as she faced Ursilla down. “A human’s heart is frailer than you’d think. I do not wish to make it arrest.”
“Hmm, yes.” Ursilla pointed a finger at Arandur, still lurking in the corner. “You’d best make arrangements. That one will not leave her side until she’s able to walk out of here on her own.”
The healer turned, slate-grey eyes sweeping him from head to toe, and the expression on her heart-shaped face turned matronly for a moment. “I know a losing battle when I see one. Are you banded, dear?”
Shaking his head, Arandur corrected her, “Courting.”
“Ah. Still, a happy thing. It is your blood within her, is it not? I thought so. It’s best you stay on hand then, anyway. If she does take a turn, we’ll need your blood to help treat her. Unfortunately, pausing mid-transformation like this brings its own complications. Not that we can afford to keep pressing forward, not with her health in this state.” Frowning, she gave Ursilla a reproachful look, full lips pulled tight. “You couldn’t have paced this out a little more? She’s a magician. With such complications—”
“I believe it would have been more dangerous to proceed any slower. And Sevana herself insisted on this timeline.” Ursilla folded her arms over her chest and stared the healer down.
Shaking her head, the healer refused to be cowed and retorted, “As if patients know what’s best for them. Not that there’s much to argue at this stage, what’s done is done. I hope, at least, that someone is taking notes on her progress?”
“I am,” Arandur volunteered, half-lifting a hand. “I have it on me. Would you like to see it?”
“Well.” Smiling at him, she crossed the three feet separating them. “You’re well prepared. Yes, if you don’t mind. It will give us an idea of what complications to expect tonight.”
Arandur really did like the impression he received from this woman. She practically radiated competence. “Perhaps you’d help me go through them? I want to make this a record for future generations, if something like this happens again.”
“Oh! Is that why you took the notes? Yes, quite clever. We’ll want our own copy for the official records.” Patting his arm, she took the slim journal and flipped to the first page. “I see. Hmm, yes, you’ve written what you could see, but a finer eye might be needed for this to make sense to a healer down the line. I’ll help you from now on. I’m Elbereth.”
“Arandur,” he responded, feeling the tension slowly seep out of him. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“And you. Let’s make sure your Sevana is comfortable, hmm? And then we’ll see to you. You’re a little drained after all of that and I want a better look at the wounds on your arms.”
Wearily, he nodded. With Sevana in such capable hands, he could afford to sit down and let someone else take charge for a few minutes.
Sevana awoke to snoring.
As annoying as she normally found that, this time it made her smile because
she knew instantly who it was: Aran. He claimed (quite adamantly) that he didn’t snore. And normally he didn’t, she could agree on that point, but when he became truly stressed and tired he sounded like a hibernating bear with a sore tooth. Like now.
Gingerly opening her eyes, she turned her head in slow degrees, feeling as if her entire body had been tenderized. The last steak she had eaten suddenly gained her sympathies. Fortunately, the room was not brightly lit, sparing her poor eyes, and Aran was not far. Someone had brought a second cot in and snugged it in between her bed and the wall. He was stretched across it, fully clothed, a blanket haphazardly draped over his legs. His dark hair stuck up in every possible direction, and for a moment he looked bed-rumpled and cute with it.
That’s how Sevana knew her brains had been scrambled. She did not think in terms of cuteness.
A soft tread of shoes stole into the room, and a light, feminine voice inquired, “Are you awake, Artifactor?”
Turning her head the other direction was quite a chore, but Sevana forced her way through the motion, feeling her hair snag a little underneath her shoulders as she moved. The woman leaning over her was nearly retirement age, her experience written in fine lines around her eyes and mouth and in the iron grey hairs weaving through her dark hair. Sevana blinked, startled that she could now clearly see every trace of magic within this woman, every elemental core that made up an Unda’s being. It had been a hazy blur of mixed elemental magic to her before. Was this what a Fae could see?
“Artifactor?” she prodded again, gently and with an understanding smile.
Wool-gathering. Wonderful. She really had been knocked arse over tea kettle, hadn’t she? “Yes. I’m awake. Just not fully aware.”
“Well, you answered in complete sentences, so you’re doing better than expected,” she said reassuringly. “I’m Elbereth, Head Matron here. You’ve been asleep twelve hours, without our intervention, which is quite wonderful. You’re likely feeling very fatigued and sore. We did have to reset some of your sockets, as your ankles were just out of joint, as was your spine. Your tendons also were stretched to the snapping point. We’ve mitigated the worst of the damage to your musculature but you’ll need a few more days of bedrest to heal from the events of today. Your core, I am happy to say, is now stabilized and portrays nothing more than Fae magic.”
Sevana tried to peek down at herself but the angle was too awkward and she quickly gave that up. Later, when she could sit up properly, she’d try again. “Truly, my magical core isn’t fluctuating? At all?”
“Not a trace of human magic left within you. We’re actually quite pleased at the outcome, at least in that sense. Perhaps because of your ordeal, however, your core isn’t quite as strong as anticipated. You’re at a pre-teen level.” Perhaps reading the dismay all over her face, Elbereth quickly tacked on, “But I also believe that it’s not able to gain full strength in your current body. If you were to harbor a fully developed magical core, it would wreak havoc on the parts of your body that are still human. As you transform fully into Fae, I believe that the rest of you will grow to suit.”
That did sound completely reasonable. Sevana chose to believe it and nodded in a shallow dip of the head. “I believe you’re right. How is Aran?”
“He’s fine,” Elbereth answered with a fond smile over at the sleeping man. “He stayed up initially, and walked me through the record, but I convinced him to lay down about six hours ago. He’s very drained from what he did earlier. I expect both of you will need a few days to properly recover from it.”
Sevana had not been blind to what Aran was going through while trying to subdue her wildly out of control magic. She hadn’t been able to speak or reason, not when wracked with that kind of pain, but she hadn’t been oblivious either. Seeing him next to her, nearly comatose with fatigue, did not surprise her. Hearing that he would recover with rest was reassuring, though. Sometimes that sort of magical and blood drain required intervention from a skilled healer to offset problems.
Something Elbereth had casually dropped looped back around in Sevana’s brain. “What record?”
“You didn’t know? Arandur is keeping a detailed record of everything you experience as you’re transformed.”
Sevana had certainly seen him scribbling away in a journal and assumed he was doing something, but hadn’t asked. The man was allowed some privacy, even if she’d been very curious. Sevana, of course, had been keeping her own records, but truly, Aran’s would be interesting in their own right. He could see far more of her transition than Sevana herself could. And with his outside perspective, he might be the more impartial observer as well. “I’d like to see it.”
“I’m sure. I’m having it copied now so that we can keep a record of it. I’ll bring it back when it’s done.” Elbereth lifted Sevana’s wrist and checked pulse and temperature, then helped lift her head enough that she could drink most of a carafe of water.
Sevana had no idea how thirsty she was until that cool, blissful liquid slid down her throat. She settled back into the pillow with a sigh. But the water made her realize that she’d missed dinner the night before, and it was time for breakfast now, and her stomach gave a petulant grumble. “Can I eat?”
“Something soft and easily digestible,” Elbereth answered with a judicious look at her. “You’re not feeling nauseous? Then I’ll have the kitchens bring something to you. If you feel like you can eat, you should. It will help speed along your recovery. I’ll send word to both Ursilla and Rane that you are awake. They might want to see you today.”
Having several questions without answers, and being stuck in bed for the foreseeable future, Sevana privately admitted that she would prefer to have them come to her. “That’s fine.”
“Rest until then.” With an approving nod—Elbereth apparently was pleased at her status—the head matron swept back out of the room.
Sevana let out a low breath of air, relaxing into the pillows fully. Every caution about changing a magician into a Fae now made perfect sense. Even with a skilled and experienced Unda mother overseeing her every step of the way, her magical core had still exploded. It scared her, even now, to think of what might have happened.
And she really, truly, had to beat sense into Aran’s head. An intelligent person did not just walk up to someone while their magic went into some sort of catatonic breakdown and…and…
The thought sputtered to a cold stop. She knew very well why he’d done it. And she knew very well that without that interference, she’d be dead by now. Even if the magical overload hadn’t killed her, Sevana’s heart wouldn’t have been able to put up with the strain for much longer. Her heart would have shattered under the extremity, killing her near instantly. Faced between the possibility of suffering severe damage himself, or watching her die a violent death in front of his eyes, Aran, of course, chose the former.
Despite what people thought of her, she wasn’t blind. Sevana knew very well that Aran adored her. She was less confident as to why, but his devotion couldn’t be missed or misunderstood. It spoke volumes that he always chose to stay with her, but the events of this morning made it abundantly clear that if asked, Aran would lay his life on the line for her without hesitation.
Never in Sevana’s wildest dreams had she believed that romance would be part of her life, but stonking deities, she apparently had the opportunity now. The way he kept breaching her personal space said that Aran liked the skinship with Sevana, which was good, as she certainly enjoyed it. Again, she didn’t understand why he’d kissed her that one time—for once in her life, Sevana regretted not properly paying attention to a conversation—but he hadn’t stopped his affectionate touches. Excellent sign, that. It meant that her chances of talking him into courting were much better than she’d initially assumed. If she played her cards right, of course.
And then, if she were very clever indeed, they might make it safely through the courting stage without him wanting to strangle her by the end of it.
Oh, stars. She
really did have it bad for him, didn’t she? She was literally lying here plotting how to be on her best behavior while courting him. If Sarsen or Kip saw her now, they’d be laughing themselves hoarse.
Sevana abruptly decided that all of this business was Aran’s fault. If he weren’t so charming, and intelligent, and patient, and…well, and Arandurish, she wouldn’t have been attracted to him. Or contemplating courting. Therefore, it was Aran’s fault, and it would certainly be his fault if things went sideways.
Although she’d really rather they didn’t go wrong.
Someone stepped lightly through the door and Sevana turned her eyes up to track her new visitor. Ursilla paused at her bedside, looking her over carefully. “You’re awake. Good.”
“I think,” Sevana’s voice came out raspy, still sore from all the screaming the night before, “that I now understand why the old tales cautioned against changing someone with human magic in them.”
“Yes,” Ursilla agreed, utterly deadpan, “the logic behind that is quite obvious now. I believe that without Arandur’s dogged persistence, you would not be alive. I do not know of many who would charge into such a maelstrom of magic.”
“The one thing I’ve never questioned is Aran’s courage,” Sevana answered with a faint smile. “His common sense, maybe, but never his courage.”
“Nor his devotion,” Ursilla tacked on, expression insinuating a great deal. “I now understand why Aranhil had such complete faith that he would stay with you throughout this process.”
Funny, how none of them had questioned that. Sevana hadn’t even wondered why Aran leapt to volunteer. But she decided that was enough sentimental thoughts on her end for the day and led the conversation in a different direction. “Now that my magical core is finally stable, do you expect any trouble with the rest of the transformation?”
Shaking her head, Ursilla denied, “No. At least, nothing that could compare to what happened this morning. We might have some strange hiccups, such as what you experienced with your senses, but that’s a normal enough reaction, considering how rushed we’re doing things. I believe that you are now over the worst of it.”
The Fae Artifactor Page 15