“Child, what did you do?” Her tone lacked the reproach he expected. When Erstad turned toward them, Farrell knew she spoke to more than just him.
“What’s wrong with your hands?” Erstad left the others and walked over.
Miceral thwarted Farrell’s attempt to find the best explanation by speaking first. “He grabbed the sides of a Door and got severely burned in the process.”
While Miceral didn’t understand the full ramification of what he said, Erstad did.
“Great Holy Honorus, what on Nendor did you think you were doing?” Erstad’s raised voice drew the attention of several Belsport guards. “Even novice wizards know not to touch, let alone grab, the lines of a Door. Let me see your hands. Now!”
Putting aside his embarrassment, Farrell turned his hands so his mentor could see what his foolishness had cost him.
Erstad’s face paled as he stared intently at Farrell’s injuries. “I have no idea what demon took hold of you to make you do this. What were you thinking?”
“When we reached the Door, troops and wizards were still exiting. It needed to be closed. Initially, I blocked the exit while I searched for the ends of the spell, but before I found it, I felt someone probe my barricade. Given what it took to overpower Darius, I assumed Meglar was behind the Door and the one—”
“Wait, you were searching for the ends of the spell? Why?” Erstad appeared confused.
“Yes, so I could unravel it.” Feeling uncomfortable meeting his mentor’s stare, he looked at Nerti, hoping for support. Her eyes bristled with anger.
“Foolish child!” Her words stung like a sharp slap. “You were not chosen by the Six so you could toss your life away on some grandiose adventure.”
Before he could explain, Erstad started questioning him again. “Unravel the spell? What in Neblor does that mean?”
“Turn it off.” How could Erstad not understand? “If I had located the beginning, I could have undone the spell.”
Shaking his head, Erstad waited a moment before responding. “I don’t begin to understand what you’re talking about, but we can discuss that later. You still haven’t explained why you grabbed the energy lines.”
“The Door had to be shut. I couldn’t risk Meglar coming through. I grabbed the lines and forced more energy into them than they could hold. That made the Door implode.”
Erstad stood there, a look of disbelief on his face. “Boy, we need to have a long talk about what goes on in your head.”
Farrell shrugged. “When we have time, I can explain how I came up with this procedure. But tell me what’s happening.”
The look on the elder man’s face made plain his disapproval “After you two flew off Darius, Cylinda, and I made it to the front gate to assess what we were facing. Several low-level masters led the attack on the palace. Fortunately, Darius is every bit as competent as we suspected, and the palace had enough protection to withstand the attack long enough for the three of us to quash it.”
Farrell tried to ask another question, but Miceral grabbed him under his shoulders and hoisted him onto Nerti’s back. “Enough talk. Farrell needs a master healer to look at his hands. You can talk once he has been treated.
“Nerti, will you send word to Wilhelm that Farrell has been severely injured and requires the services of his best healer? If the Door to Haven is still open, ask that Master Heather come herself.” Miceral glared at Farrell, cutting off any protest. “This isn’t negotiable! You’re going to see the healers now!”
When Miceral took a breath, Farrell spoke up. “I was going to say, why not let Nerti heal me?”
“I cannot heal this wound.” She shook her horn. “If I tried, your hands would be healed as they are now, with nothing done to repair the damage.”
“But you healed my shoulder. How is this different?”
“The healer repaired the damage. All I did was hasten the process.” Nerti sounded irritated. “No amount of arguing will change what I’m capable of doing. You’re going to see the healers now.”
She turned to Miceral and fixed her eyes on him. “Get behind him. You’re coming with us.”
Miceral wrapped his arms around Farrell’s waist, and they rode north toward the Citadel.
“Wilhelm has been told to provide his chief healer.” Nerti’s choice of words made Farrell smirk. Even in Belsport, she told people what to do. “I told Haven to dispatch as many healers as are available and made clear Master Heather was to treat your injury.”
Without thinking, Farrell groaned at the thought of Master Heather treating him. “Haven’t I suffered enough that you summoned her? She’ll give me another stinging lecture on my lack of concern for my personal safety, my reckless behavior, and my unrivaled ability to injure myself in new and unique ways.”
“You do this often?” Miceral asked.
“Often is too strong a word.” Even though Miceral couldn’t see him, Farrell looked sheepish. “I’ve required her assistance a few times in my life. Between opposing Meglar and attempting new spells, the opportunity for injury is common.”
“I think I’m going to join Erstad and others when they talk to you about this episode. You have a knack for getting injured . . . seriously injured.”
Farrell knew he couldn’t win this argument so he kept silent.
Nerti’s deceptively fast gait had them to the now heavily guarded docks directly across from Prince’s Island. Soldiers and constables snapped to attention as Nerti came to a halt. A wizard constable motioned them to follow her and led them to the edge of the water. She placed a small rock on top of a chest-high stone column, and a white road of energy, wide enough for several horses to ride abreast, spanned the water to the island. Nerti never acknowledged the woman as she galloped across the bridge.
Prince’s Island buzzed with activity. Palace guards patrolled with units from the city guard, constables, and wizard constables. Dozens of soldiers from Haven stood watch around the island, with vigilant peregrines perched on every tower.
Nerti came to a halt before several serious guards who ordered them to stop. Nerti’s irritation made her “voice” so loud, it caused several guards to grab their heads. Being forced to wait didn’t improve her mood.
“Ridiculous!” she said. “These silly humans know who you and I are. There is no need to stop us and get clearance from that man in the palace.”
Farrell raised an eyebrow at her description of Wilhelm. “Be calm. My condition isn’t dire and won’t get worse while we wait for permission.”
Less than a minute later, a page dressed in the prince’s colors came running toward them. “Prince Wilhelm commands you to let Queen Nerti pass.”
Farrell winked at the teen, who, despite being many years younger than the guard captain, conveyed his authority with little difficulty.
A worried-looking Horgon met them at the entrance to the Citadel. To Farrell’s surprise, Wilhelm stood there as well. Miceral hoisted him off Nerti’s back, and Horgon immediately reached for Farrell’s hands. In one motion, he turned them over. The look of concern when Horgon saw the damaged flesh hurt Farrell more than his injuries.
“Holy Mother of the Sea, what happened?” Wilhelm took a look, then motioned to his guards. “Let’s go.”
“In closing Meglar’s Door, I misjudged the strength of my shields when I grabbed the lines of energy.”
Taking another look, Horgon released Farrell’s hands. “By the Six, that’s got to hurt, son.”
That Horgon called him “son” still took getting used to, but Farrell felt a twinge of joy hearing it.
“He’s blocking the pain at the moment.” Miceral’s continual disapproval took away the small smile that crept onto Farrell’s face. “Has Master Healer Heather arrived yet?”
“I’ve been told she’s on the way,” Horgon said. “Nerti said blocking the pain is almost as . . . foolish as grabbing the energy lines.”
Farrell didn’t need to look over. He could feel Nerti’s anger. “It can be. If you do
n’t feel pain, you won’t know you’ve been hurt, and that can cause you to bleed out before you realize you need help.”
Another glare from Miceral, and Farrell kept his head down the rest of the way. Wilhelm had set up the infirmary in a large hall near the throne room. Healers already worked on the steady stream of wounded men and women brought in from the fight.
Farrell spotted Master Heather speaking to another healer he did not recognize and wished he had the power to heal himself. When she saw him, she marched directly for him, a grim expression etched onto her features.
Without a word, she grabbed his wrists. Though less rattled than the others, she barely managed to stifle a look of shock as she examined his injuries.
“Child, what is wrong with you?” Her tone confirmed her anger. “Can’t you do anything without causing yourself major trauma? Why can’t you simply do what you’re supposed to do instead of always trying to find some new and different way to do things? This incessant need to do it your way is going to be the death of you. One day, you’re going to do something to yourself that I can’t fix. Then you’ll be sorry.”
“Excuse me.” Wilhelm held up a hand, drawing a scowl from Master Heather. “I presume you are Haven’s Chief Healer. I am Wilhelm, Prince of Belsport.”
Heather eyed Wilhelm before she bowed her head slightly. “My apologies, Prince Wilhelm. I didn’t realize you would personally escort my reckless sovereign to be treated.”
Farrell braced himself. Wilhelm wouldn’t get a more contrite apology from her.
“When one of my friends and allies risks his life for my people, I take a personal interest in their safety. You will not berate Prince Farrell in my house after he saved hundreds, if not thousands, of my people. These wounds were the result of his selfless actions to close the Door Meglar used to invade my realm. If you’re not able to be more civil, I’ll have Master Jelath treat him without you.”
“My thanks, Prince Wilhelm, but Master Heather has treated me for serious self-inflicted injuries in the past. We have an understanding. If I injure myself doing something stupid, I owe her the courtesy of listening to her chastise me for my foolishness.”
“No, my prince, he’s correct.” Heather stared hard at Wilhelm before bowing her head more deeply. “My sharp tongue gets the best of me at times, but I reserve that for those I care about. I ought to have asked the circumstances of your injury before I assumed you were being a silly child again.”
“How about everyone stops worrying about whose feelings were ruffled and someone help Farrell?” Miceral’s angry voice made Heather and Jelath turn slightly red.
“I’ve never seen anything like this, Prince Farrell,” Jelath said after examining his hands. “How did this happen?”
“I grabbed hold of the energy lines used to create a Door.” Farrell snuck a peek at Heather and watched as her eyes narrowed to thin slits. “The volatile energy ate through my shielding and did this before I could shut it down.”
He felt Jelath probe his wound with her mind. Shaking her head, she turned to Heather. “This injury escapes me. The damage to the flesh and muscle I can treat, but there is something that bars my abilities to reach the wounded areas.”
“Magically induced injuries can often interfere with our talents.” Heather took his right hand none too gently. She pointed to the straight line of the wound on his palm. “See how the energy clings to the damaged flesh?”
“So how do you treat it?” Jelath asked.
“Only a healer who has a wizard’s talent can effectively treat such a wound.” Heather led him to a table and patted the top. He quietly sat on the edge, waiting for her to treat him. “You know, you have to stop blocking the pain for us to work on you.”
Nodding, he dissolved the protective energy surrounding his hands. Bracing himself, he unblocked his pain receptors. He felt Miceral place a hand on his neck and tried to draw some comfort from it as the pain returned in excruciating waves. Even prepared for it, he couldn’t stifle a sob when the full effect hit him. Jelath and Heather worked quickly to wall off the pain, but they only numbed it. They couldn’t block it entirely.
“Prince Farrell?” Heather’s use of his title and her deferential tone caught him off guard.
“Yes?” His voice came out thin and halting as he tried to ignore the pain.
“You’re the only wizard healer who understands Door energy. I need you to dissolve the magic that holds back the healing process.”
Nodding, he stared at his mangled hands. “Where first?”
For the next hour, Heather pointed to a spot and helped him siphon off the energy, while Master Jelath worked to repair the damaged muscle, sinew, and flesh. Once they removed all the dark magic, Heather turned her attention to helping Jelath heal the physical wounds.
Miceral stayed with Farrell through the entire process. Several times, the healers touched nerves, sending waves of pain through the young wizard’s body. He managed not to scream but couldn’t hold back the tears. Miceral gently wiped his face, smiling despite the anguished look in his eyes.
When Jelath and Heather finished, they both looked exhausted but pleased.
“Young Prince, your hands will be as good as new if you rest for a day or so.” Heather gave him a small smile that turned into a smirk. “Perhaps you can get your unicorn friend to stab your hands for you like she did that shoulder.”
“Rest assured, Healer, I will use whatever gifts I have to ensure his full recovery.” It seemed to Farrell that everyone heard Nerti’s words. She walked over and touched Heather, then Jelath, with her horn. “I thank you both for all your efforts today.”
The two healers exchanged bewildered looks. “I no longer feel tired from my efforts. Truly, a unicorn is a blessing from the Holy Mother.” Jelath dropped to her knees before Nerti.
Horgon helped her to her feet. “Master Jelath, it is disrespectful to Lenore to worship Nerti like a goddess. We honor all unicorns and Lenore by caring for them and keeping them safe.”
Staring at his hands, Farrell kept flexing them to check for any lasting damage. When he felt Nerti’s presence close by, he turned to look into her green eyes.
“I am afraid, Wizard, I cannot help you right now. The healers have done their job expertly, but your body needs time to assimilate the work they did before I hasten your recovery. Too quickly, and the wounds will not heal properly.”
Farrell stood with Miceral’s help. “You’ve already done enough, Nerti. We each do according to our gifts. Helping those who helped me was gift enough.” He kissed her gently on the forehead.
The healers bowed, moving to help other patients, leaving Farrell leaning against Miceral. “Let’s go find out what happened after we left the Citadel.”
The pair made their way to where Horgon and Wilhelm spoke quietly with several military officers. When they saw Miceral and Farrell, they waved them over. Wilhelm excused himself, leaving Horgon to fill in the details.
Aside from the force that rescued them, a second group under Master Thomas assisted the counterattacks. Wesfazial aided them, working beside their Belsport counterparts to round up stragglers. A defiant group of wizards and Chamdon had made a stand at the site where the Door originated. Darius and Cylinda joined a contingent of wizard constables to defeat that group. After that, they encountered only intermittent episodes of fighting as the last of the invaders were hunted down and either killed or captured.
“We received a couple of accounts of the human soldiers taking women and young children hostage,” Wilhelm said as he rejoined them. “These soldiers appeared shocked when they arrived at the site of their Door and found it gone.”
Farrell nodded. “That would explain what Meglar was up to with this attack.”
“What does it mean to you?” Wilhelm asked
“I wondered what the point of this was, but it’s clear Meglar was collecting slaves for the breeding pits. The raid had two purposes, I believe. The first, carried out by the wizards and Chamdon, was
to instill fear in your people. Meglar meant to sacrifice these troops to achieve that end. They were a diversion to keep your forces occupied while the real goal of the raid was carried out—slaves. The human soldiers must have been sent to abduct as many people as they could, especially young women and children.”
Wilhelm tilted his head. “Why young women and children?”
“Children who are turned into a Chamdon don’t burn out as quickly as adults. The young women were for breeding purposes. Our information is that Meglar has come up with a process to turn babies into full-grown Chamdon. Now he’s using young women to give birth, one after the next, until they can no longer bear a child and they’re turned into Chamdon themselves.”
Wilhelm’s jaw tightened, and his eyes focused on nothing. “Thank you for your help, Farrell, and for that information.”
Stifling a yawn, Farrell leaned back against Miceral. “Wilhelm, I believe everything is under control, so I’m going to take my leave from your fair city. The wizards will stay to assist Darius as needed, and if Meglar or another attacks, Haven stands ready to aid you. I’m sorry for the suffering my presence brought you and Belsport. But I hope we part friends.”
Wilhelm laughed. “You’re sorry? You? My dear boy, what in the sea could you be sorry for? Meglar is a disease on our world that cannot be appeased. I knew that the moment his agents arrived. Your offer of friendship and support made it possible for me to take action sooner than later.”
Wilhelm gripped both Farrell’s shoulders, giving him a warm smile. “When Meglar attacked, you owed us nothing, yet risked everything for my people with no thought of compensation. Our casualties are not greater because you were here to aid us. For that you have my thanks and my friendship.”
Farrell bowed to Wilhelm. “You’re welcome, friend. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m feeling the effects of being healed and fear I may fall asleep as we speak.”
“Go.” Wilhelm returned the bow. “Stay well, Friend of Belsport.”
“Horgon is staying to command our forces,” Nerti told him. “And I’ve contacted Wesfazial to open a Door back to Haven. We three shall return, and you, Wizard, are going to rest.”
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