Solace

by Bethany Adams

  Lynia reached the base of the steps as the door opened, and Maddy entered with a man and a woman who were likely her mates. Lial hurried over, his magic flaring around Maddy. Confused, Lynia halted, not certain why the healer was scanning the newcomers. Until it hit her—he must be checking for signs of the mystery illness.

  When he finished with Maddy, the young, red-haired woman stepped aside for Lial to continue with her blood elf mate. Fen, Lynia believed. A half-human-half-Felshreh prince and current heir to the Unseelie throne. Then after Fen, there was…Anna? If Lynia recalled correctly, Anna possessed some kind of water talent.

  “You’re clear,” Lial said. If the trio was confused, they didn’t say so as the healer returned to his workbench and began lining up baskets along the center. “Maddy, you’ll stay here. Elan, Fen, and Anna come with me.”

  That drew a reaction from Maddy. “What? Why am I staying here? Where is everyone going?”

  “To a rescue.” Lial turned, and at the sight of Lynia, he waved her forward. “You read more than what I marked in those healing texts, correct?”

  Gods above, but he knew her well. “Of course.”

  Lial smiled. “Good. You remain with Maddy. If anyone comes in with bruises or scrapes, you can patch them up. These vials are labeled clearly, and I’ve no doubt you’ll remember their appropriate uses.”

  Lynia’s lips parted on a gasp, but Lial didn’t seem to register her surprise. He was too busy directing Elan, Fen, and a bewildered-looking Anna out the door. An entire mark could have passed in the silence that descended as the door closed behind them, but she and Maddy probably only stared at each other for a few drips of time. Not that that wasn’t enough to read the young woman’s doubt.

  Was it Maddy’s apprehension about her own ability to handle the situation or misgivings about Lynia’s helpfulness? Lynia didn’t begrudge Maddy either. The young woman had been dropped into the situation with no clue what was happening, and they didn’t know anything about each other save the basics learned from polite dinner exchanges.

  “An interesting turn of events,” Lynia offered.

  Maddy nodded, winced, and attempted an awkward curtsey. “Yes, Lady Lynia.”

  By the Nine Gods, but Lynia was tired of the stilted, nervous look the young woman wore. Was she truly so fearsome? So often, people first saw her as remote and overly formal when the truth was simpler—she was quiet. Every time a new person arrived on the estate, she had to deal with that false impression, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that she did appreciate politeness.

  But not to the point of impracticality.

  “Please call me Lynia,” she said, removing her cloak and hanging it by the door. No point in wearing the heavy thing if she was going to be helping here for what could be several marks. “I hope you’re more prepared for our unexpected task than I am.”

  Maddy relaxed slightly and joined Lynia in hanging up her own cloak. “Well, you’re one healing text ahead of me, at least when it comes to Moranaian books. I’ve been trying to look over an anatomy textbook I borrowed from a friend, but it’s for humans. Anything useful in yours?”

  “It was beginner information, so there were plenty of examples of bandaging wounds and using salves.” Lynia inspected the baskets Lial had left on his workbench. A tag was affixed to each, and the vials inside were likewise labeled with the herbal components and usage of each blend. “This looks like a good many of them. Lehreh, tobahn, maiseb. A solid combination for treating deep bruises.”

  Once again, Maddy joined her. “You remember all of that?”

  Lynia smiled at the incredulous question. “My magic lends itself to research. I remember most things I study with my gift, whether I want to or not.”

  “I would say that sounds fabulous, but…” The Sidhe woman’s nose wrinkled. “I think we’ve all read things we’d rather forget.”

  “I learned to skim before using my magic for just that reason,” Lynia replied.

  Maddy seemed to consider her for a moment, and Lynia tried not to wonder if the other woman found her lacking. “You’ve known Lial for a while, right?”

  Gods, what did Maddy know? Lynia prayed this wasn’t about to get embarrassing. “Yes. Why?”

  “I don’t always understand what he’s thinking. Why would he have left us to stand in for him?”

  Lynia held back a relieved sigh. “Because he trusts us to handle small problems. I don’t know how much you learned on the way over about what’s going on, but part of the cliff wall up the valley collapsed, trapping a mage. Lial would take his usual assistant in an emergency to avoid surprises, and Lyr probably asked him to bring Fen because of his earth magic. I am less certain about your other mate, though.”

  “Anna recently unlocked her water magic, but I’m not sure why that would help.”

  Lynia frowned. “I believe the stream runs near the area where the collapse happened. I suppose we will have to see.”

  “And hope no one else gets hurt,” Maddy muttered.

  Lynia chuckled at the wry comment, for it mirrored her own feelings. With any luck, neither of them would have their skills tested.

  Chapter 9

  So far, this day was fulfilling the promise of its inauspicious start. If Lial hadn’t had to pick carefully along the icy trail, sleet pelting him the whole way, he would have stomped out his frustration and increasingly dark mood. He wasn’t alone, though, so it was just as well. Fen scowled into the distance, and Anna’s brow was pinched with worry. To show his own temper would only make things worse.

  “Why did you leave Maddy behind?” Fen finally demanded.

  He’d lasted longer than Lial had expected. “Because I trust her and Lynia to best help there.”

  “You could have left me, too,” Anna said. “I’m not sure what kind of rescue you need, but I can’t imagine I’ll be much use.”

  Lial halted beside a new trail, one that angled its way down to the base of the ridge. “You’ll have to ask the Myern about the request once we reach the bottom.”

  A daunting task with the current weather. The wooden rail would prevent a fall—in theory. But it would be a long tumble if any of them slipped. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a choice but to tackle the path. A delay could mean the trapped mage’s death.

  “I’ll go first,” Fen said.

  Lial’s brows drew together. “I would not put you at the most risk.”

  Instead of deferring, the young blood elf grinned. “I’m at the least risk, actually. I can connect with the ground here, and it won’t let me fall. If you trip, you won’t roll past me.”

  Fen surprised Lial by being correct. With each step the Unseelie prince took, the soil seemed to shift to meet his feet, the ice crackling away. Anna followed behind him and then Lial and Elan. In less time than Lial would have thought possible, they reached the bottom of the narrow valley.

  The ancient trees on the undamaged side of the valley rose high enough to provide some cover over them, lessening the force of the sleet. The downside of their protection was the dust cloud that hadn’t dissipated as well as it would have without their shelter. The lingering powder mixing with the cool fog along the valley floor coated Lial’s lungs with every breath. He should have brought a piece of cloth so he could cover his nose and mouth.

  An arrow’s arc away, a few people already worked to dislodge the tumbled stones, but their forms were partially obscured by the haze. Fen did something with his earth magic, clearing the remainder of the dust from the air. A bit of the fog rolled away with it, revealing Lyr and a pair of scouts. Lial had to smile at the show of Fen’s skill—the young man had grown more confident since their last encounter.

  When they reached the others, the magnitude of the problem revealed itself. A large portion of the ridge to their right had fallen, boulders and crumbled stone spilling across the valley floor. Worse, the stream cascaded from the ridge in this very spot. Between the water half-tumbling-half-freezing down the rocks and the sleet pelting throug
h the branches overhead, neither the scouts nor Lyr appeared to be making much progress in shifting the debris.

  The injured mage’s green robes were visible at the far edge of the rubble, and Lial could make out the man’s dust-covered hair where it tangled around his upper shoulders. Otherwise, the angle made it difficult to identify how deeply the mage was buried. Not auspicious, though at least his head and neck hadn’t been crushed.

  Lyr stepped away from the scouts. “Fen! Anna! I could use your help.”

  Fen hastened toward Lyr at once, but the woman stared in shock. “Me?”

  “I’m told you work with water,” Lyr called. “And we have a serious water problem.”

  Lial tried to think of something he could say to encourage her, but there was no need. Anna squared her shoulders and caught up with Fen, who held out his hand for her before continuing. Good—she was brave. Maddy had mentioned that Anna was half-Gwragedd Annwn, a race of water fae, but Anna had not known of that fact until magic had flooded the human world once more. She would need that courage to adapt to such a big change.

  With Elan trailing, Lial followed the pair until he reached Lyr. He kept his gaze locked on the trapped mage as Fen and Anna acted together to move the rubble. As soon as possible, he would run over to assess the damage. Though he wasn’t the best at scanning for detailed wounds at a distance, Lial could detect a weakening pulse from the man.

  Anna was in the process of diverting the stream when air gusted against Lial’s back. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Kezari land in a flurry of wingbeats, her scales glinting gold in the morning light. Aris and Selia slid from the dragon’s shoulders, and the dragon shifted to her elven form. Together the three hurried over.

  “I will tend the cliff face,” Kezari said, marching past as though the shower of rain and ice didn’t bother her.

  It probably didn’t. The dragon ran so hot that the sleet melted before it landed on her golden hair or summery dress. Lial scowled and tucked his cloak tighter. There were definitely benefits to being a dragon.

  Selia joined Fen and Anna, casting a shield over the area that prevented the sleet from falling through. Then the mage switched between helping Anna control the stream and levitating away the rocks that Fen eased to the side with his magic. Any moment, it would be Lial’s turn to leap into action. He tapped his fingers against his hip to the beat of the mage’s slowing pulse.

  If they didn’t hurry, he would have to brave darting in before the stones were cleared.

  “I’ve never seen Selia work in a crisis,” Lyr said, glancing around Lial to Aris, who had stopped beside him. “Did she do this often before becoming a teacher?”

  Aris smiled softly. “And during. You’d be surprised by the number of student disasters she’s had to fix.”

  Lial wouldn’t be, but it wasn’t something he wanted to dwell on. Especially now. If he didn’t get over there soon, it would be his failure, not a student’s.

  As the last of the large stones was removed from the man’s torso, Lial detected the first stutter in the mage’s pulse. He darted forward, Elan close at his heels. Lyr tried to call him back, but there could be no more delay. The thready thrum scratched at Lial’s mind until it was all he could hear.

  Ignoring the rocks floating by his head, he knelt beside the fallen mage. The man was crumpled on his stomach, his lower legs still pinned. A problem for Fen and Selia to solve. Lial sank into a healing trance, and the world went blue around him as he shifted his sight to his senses instead of his eyes.

  Five broken ribs. Fractures and contusions to several other ribs as well as to the spine. Two skull fractures with accompanying concussion. One arm nearly crushed and the other broken in several places. And a gaping wound in the stomach leaking blood.

  Miaran.

  “We have to get him shifted to his back on the carry board,” Lial said. “Now.”

  Elan lowered the board to the ground beside the mage as the final stones were cleared. Normally, Lial would have added his magic to help in levitating the patient, but he would need every bit of energy he possessed to have any chance of saving the man.

  But as the mage was shifted to his back, his eyes popped open, and he tried to move the hand that hadn’t been shattered. Blood tinged his lips as he tried to move them. “No…accident,” the mage finally whispered.

  Only then did Lial notice the object slipping from the man’s hand—a knife.

  A steel one, at that.

  Miaran, indeed.

  Lynia held back a sigh as she lifted another vial from the basket and returned to her red-faced patient. Lial had not been joking about bruised arses—or hips, which was close enough. This was the third vial she’d given out in a ridiculously short span of time, and like the previous two, the recipient appeared both embarrassed and annoyed.

  People truly had become spoiled by Lial, for they were taken aback that their slight ills wouldn’t be cured on the spot. But Maddy didn’t know the proper technique for healing bruises, and Lynia had no compunction about giving them a vial and telling them to let time and ointment fix the problem. In this case, being the Myernere had its benefits—none dared to complain.

  “I never pictured elves being so clumsy,” Maddy muttered when they were alone once more. “As far as I know, the Sidhe aren’t, but I admit my experiences there are limited since I was raised on Earth.”

  Lynia smiled as she settled into the chair near the treatment bed. “Ah, the tales humans have of us. I’ve read a few Lyr brought back for me. I suppose in some ways they are accurate, but in the end, we’re just people.”

  “There are remarkably few stories about elves slipping on icy trails and bruising their asses,” Maddy said with a grin of her own. “Thousands of years of life. Still can’t walk on ice.”

  Lynia couldn’t help but chuckle. “In fairness, many trainees at Braelyn come from regions that don’t get the weather we do. Either it’s farther north where it’s cold enough to get snow the entire winter instead of periods of ice or it’s an area that’s too warm for either. And though Braelyn tends to look fairly uninhabited, there are thousands of sonal and warriors in the area, many who journeyed here to train. They’ll get the trick of it eventually. Injuries will be far fewer by the time the snows come.”

  Her nose wrinkling, Maddy hopped onto the stool beside the workbench. “Well, now I feel bad.”

  “Oh, don’t,” Lynia said in reassurance. “They should take more care, and I’m bothered by how often they come here for minor ills. Many of these complaints would heal fine without help. I can’t believe Lial hasn’t chased them away.”

  “On my last visit, he told me he likes to stay busy because…” Maddy’s words trailed off, and pink tinged her cheeks. “Never mind.”

  Lynia averted her gaze. “He’s avoiding me.”

  “He didn’t say that…exactly.”

  Did everyone know what was going on between them? Lynia sighed and met the other woman’s eyes once more. “Because of me, I’m afraid you’ll be shifting your lessons to another location. He’s planning to move to the outpost or to Ralan’s new palace.”

  Maddy’s lips firmed, and she shook her head. “It is not because of you. If he’s made you feel obligated—”

  “No, no,” Lynia insisted. “He hasn’t, but I can’t stifle my guilt over it.”

  “Well, stop. If he’s going to flounce out of here because you don’t return his feelings, then let him flounce.”

  Lynia blinked, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Flounce out?”

  “You know. Leaving in a snit.” Maddy stood, flicked her long red hair over her shoulder, and strutted toward the door with a haughty, pained—truly long-suffering—expression on her face. “A flounce.”

  The nine gods themselves couldn’t keep Lynia from laughing, her hands going to her sides from the force of it. Clechtan, but Lial did flounce sometimes. Perhaps not quite so dramatically, but the flavor was the same.

  When she could breathe aga
in, she grinned at Maddy. “Apt.”

  “It’s probably bad form to mock my mentor,” Maddy said, though the smile she returned held no hint of repentance. “I’d say Fen was a bad influence, but that was all me.”

  “I like you, Maddy,” Lynia said. “And I—”

  Lial’s energy crashed against hers so suddenly that she established a connection without second thought. “What…?”

  “This is bad. I’m not sure I can save him. If anyone is in there with minor injuries now, send them out,” Lial sent. “And move to the staircase. Selia is going to transport us shortly.”

  He cut off the link abruptly. Lynia shook her head to clear it and then shot to her feet. “Go to the stairs or stay by the door.”

  Maddy frowned. “What? Why?”

  “Lial contacted me. They are transporting in.”

  As she reached the staircase, Lynia shuddered. If Lial said it was bad, then she didn’t want to imagine what they were about to see.

  Lial pressed a clean cloth against the mage’s wound even as Elan grabbed his right shoulder and Selia his left. “What’s your name?”

  The mage’s eyelids flickered, but he didn’t open them. “Caeleth.”

  Lial barely caught the whispered answer before Selia’s magic flared, painting the world white for a handful of heartbeats before the healing tower resolved around them. She let go of his shoulder at once and flickered out of view, but he couldn’t spare the time to wonder where she’d gone. Blood had already begun to drip onto the floor beneath the carrying board, and Caeleth had slipped into unconsciousness.

  “The stone table,” Lial said, and Elan nodded.

  As Elan levitated the board to the flat stone table beside the staircase, Lial shrugged his cloak to the floor. This was going to be tricky work. That stab to the gut had sliced through intestines, spilling toxins into the man’s body, and the damage to the spine would be a challenge to heal, even if it wasn’t as severe as Lynia’s.