Kai had barely started reading when the mirror chimed. With a worried glance toward the bed where Arlyn napped, he rushed over to the desk and activated the mirror hanging on the wall. Caolte’s face resolved on the surface, and Kai lifted his fingers to his lips to indicate silence. Though his uncle frowned, he nodded in understanding.
“Keep it quiet and brief,” Kai whispered. “Arlyn’s asleep.”
Hopefully, Caolte wouldn’t ask questions. Taking time to explain the exhaustion she experienced during pregnancy would only add to the amount he had to speak, and that would risk waking her. It had been difficult enough to convince her to nap despite the newest bit of turmoil on the estate, but she’d barely been able to keep her eyes open after the midday meal.
“Both I can do,” Caolte replied softly. “We have a problem.”
Kai eyed his uncle for some sign of the severity. Only a few sparks sprang from Caolte’s short red hair, and though his pale face might be whiter than usual, nothing in the background was on fire. Unlike the last time there’d been trouble.
“What’s wrong?”
“Your father. He’s not regenerating.” A couple more sparks danced above Caolte’s head. “When I checked him, he was shivering.”
Fear as cold as the sleet outside rolled through Kai. “Meren did something.”
“I have not sensed him,” Caolte said.
“Perhaps he set some trap in the spell he used on Naomh. My father,” Kai added awkwardly, still not accustomed to considering the Sidhe lord as such. “What do you need?”
Caolte’s jaw clenched. “You said your healer might be willing to try a few techniques to speed Naomh’s healing, but I have heard nothing on that score. It’s been weeks.”
There was so much about the reason for the delay that Kai couldn’t share, not the least of which was a possible plague. That thought sent another chill through him. Hadn’t Lyr said that the Seelie queen had been infected with some type of illness by Meren? A half-blood on Earth had also become sick with poisoned energy after speaking with Meren. Had the drec done something similar to Naomh when he’d stabbed him while escaping the Seelie palace?
One thing was for certain—Kai wasn’t sharing that suspicion with Caolte yet. The man would burn the entire place down in his anger. The wall behind Caolte already sported fewer tapestries than it had on Kai’s last visit.
“We have had some difficulties here, but I will speak to him,” Kai said.
“Thank you.”
Then Caolte cut the link, keeping to his word about being brief.
Unfortunately, it was a wasted effort. The bedcovers rustled, and Arlyn’s voice cut through the silence. “Time to head to the study.”
Kai groaned. “I should have hauled the mirror to another room.”
“I’m fine.” Arlyn stood, smoothing the wrinkles from her clothes and patting her belly. “We only needed half a mark. Let’s go.”
He had to admit she looked significantly less tired. Besides, she would know better than anyone what she was capable of, a point she’d had to make embarrassingly often. Impending fatherhood had tightened his nerves to the point of ridiculousness.
“Thank you for the support, love.”
Arlyn slipped her hand into his. “Every time.”
Chapter 13
It was a little surreal being part of a crisis-solving meeting after so many years, and this time with her son in charge, besides. As she’d walked toward the study, Lynia had worried that it might bother her to be an active participant without Telien, though recently she’d begun to wish Lyr would stop handling her feelings quite so carefully. Even during the series of troubles that had befallen the estate lately, her son had preferred to ask for her help in private rather than request that she attend formal meetings.
A nod to her grief that had begun to chafe rather than relieve.
Now, Lynia knew that both her worry and Lyr’s care had been for nothing. Her son might resemble his father in many ways, but his method of working with others wasn’t one of them. For most problems, Telien had merely asked a few questions and then handed out orders, but events like the current one would have been debated around the massive table in the war council room. Not so for Lyr. Instead, the five of them—Lyr, Meli, Lynia, Cora, and Selia—sat in the chairs in the middle of the study, the clatter of ice against the windows an oddly comforting contrast to their words.
“When Meli uses her runes, I’m going with her,” Lyr said. “How soon do you think you could enhance the shields on the outer lands? It would be good to have extra protections in place before we attempt to track the assassin.”
“It depends on how difficult it is for me to access them,” Cora answered, a frown marring her brow. “My magic is bound to Moranaia’s energy, so I shouldn’t have trouble doing my part once connected to your specific shields.”
The magical protections around the estate were maintained by the Dianore family—being keyed to the full shields was a rare honor. Full access allowed the ability to discern the location of anyone on the estate, a serious trust that should never be used casually. But they wouldn’t need to grant Cora that level of connection for her to add extra shields. It would only require a bit of time.
Something Lyr had little of.
Lyr’s shoulders sagged. “Yet another task to add to my list, but it must be done.”
“I’ll help,” Lynia offered. At his startled glance, she sniffed. “I’m as bound to the estate shields as you are, and if Cora and Selia can do their work in the library, I won’t be away from my research for long.”
“Laiala,” he began softly, “Are you sure you’re ready to—”
“Yes, I am.” Lynia pinned him with her best mother’s glare. “I appreciate the care you have taken with my feelings after your father’s death, but it is past time for me to stop hiding myself away. I am alive, and as a certain young Sidhe recently reminded me, I do Telien no honor by living as though I’m already dead.”
A hint of pain shadowed Lyr’s eyes, but it was tempered by understanding. He, too, had grappled with such loss, not only of his father but also Arlyn’s mother. “I will do my best to remember your preference, and I would be grateful for your help with this task.”
Lynia relaxed. “Good. Then if it’s fine with Selia and Cora, we can begin after this meeting. I’m waiting for new resources, anyway. That will leave time for you and Meli to prepare. And have fun warning Lial about this little jaunt. He will surely be pleased that you’re putting yourself at risk again.”
Lynia wasn’t exactly happy about it herself, but she understood the necessity. Catching the assassin off guard might be their best chance at success, and none of them were safe in the meantime. At least now, her son was preparing for the confrontation instead of thinking he could handle the task on his own.
The door opened, and Kai strode in with Arlyn, their expressions heralding more trouble. A suspicion confirmed by Kai’s first words. “There’s a problem.”
Lyr let out a groan. “Of course there is. What now?”
“Caolte contacted me a moment ago,” Kai said, stopping with Arlyn in the gap between Selia’s and Cora’s chairs. “My father isn’t healing, and there may be something else wrong. Apparently, he’s shivering.”
Several of the others bore varying degrees of confused expressions, no doubt uncertain of the significance. But Lynia’s thoughts went immediately to one of the texts she’d read. Shivering could be caused by the body’s shock if a wound hadn’t been properly repaired or, of course, by being cold. In humans, it was a sign of sickness. Would a Sidhe man react the same if he’d managed to be infected by some type of illness?
“He is in a deep, restorative sleep, correct?” Meli asked, continuing at Kai’s nod. “Perhaps the room is cold. It is unusual to show that kind of physical response, I think, but not unheard of.”
Selia’s brows lowered. “Is there a reason your uncle is concerned about shivering?”
“Aside from the fact that Cao
lte worries about Naomh like a father rather than a brother?” Kai snorted. “He didn’t explicitly say why, but I imagine it isn’t normal. For one thing, no one is cold around Caolte. He puts off too much heat even when his hair isn’t sparking with his inner fire.”
“It is a symptom of sickness,” Lynia interjected before the conversation went astray. “I read about it during my research.”
Arlyn nodded. “Yep. Maybe he has a fever.”
Selia’s frown didn’t lift. “He’s a Seelie Sidhe lord. How could he be ill?”
The mage didn’t know about the plague.
Lynia was so accustomed to Selia’s presence during every other disaster that she hadn’t considered the mage’s current lack of knowledge. But from the understanding now clear on the others’ faces, Lynia had to assume they’d found out about the possible plague. Lyr must have told Meli, Arlyn, and Kai, and Cora would have found out from Ralan. Was it supposed to be a secret from the others in their household?
“I’ll consult Lial,” Lyr said. Then he turned to her. “You can explain the situation to Selia before the three of you work on the shields, though I prefer that the details not go beyond Aris and Kezari from there.”
Lynia stood with the others. “What if Lial needs my help? I’m also working with him on said situation.”
“The timing of this in general will be…difficult,” Lyr answered. “We have to find our assassin before anyone else is hurt, and we’ll need Lial nearby in case something goes wrong. But if Naomh is the beginning of an outbreak, that must be addressed. I suppose I’ll have to see what Lial suggests to fully answer your question.”
“I can do my part quickly,” Cora said, her gaze finding Selia and then Lynia. “Shall we go ahead and get started?”
Lynia nodded, and although Selia still appeared confused, she inclined her head, too. “Very well.”
“If you’ll watch what I do,” Lial said to Maddy, “then you can see the method for coaxing a body’s natural regeneration. This is helpful when your patient has been wounded by an iron or steel weapon and is unable to heal at their natural speed.”
His student studied Caeleth, still unconscious on the treatment bed. “If the presence of iron interferes with the patient’s magic, then how can you use magic to help?”
Lial smiled. “I am not allergic, so it does not impede me. It is different for an iron-allergic patient. When their natural magic is obstructed by the allergy, their bodies heal at a drastically slower rate than normal, barely faster than a human’s. Thus, I use my own power to speed their body’s natural process.”
“I don’t get why you can’t just use your healing gift to fix the problem if the iron doesn’t bother you,” Maddy replied.
“Because it is never just fixing a problem.” Lial gestured toward Caeleth’s exposed abdomen, the stitches standing out in stark relief. “A healer is not entirely an external force. Instead, we must merge with the patient’s natural energy and use it along with our own to repair the wound. Though that synergy is difficult to describe, it is the essence of healing.”
Her eyebrows drew together. “So when you send magic into an injury, your magic isn’t doing the repair? That’s not how it has seemed before.”
Lial shrugged. “With my magic, wounds are knit at an unnatural rate that couldn’t be achieved without my help, even if the patient were provided extra energy. In the case of an iron allergy, you are directing the patient’s magic toward something repugnant, and thus you get resistance. That resistance makes the entire process clearer. As I said, it is difficult to describe. You would do better to observe.”
“So…” Maddy nibbled on her lower lip for a moment before her expression cleared. “You’re going to use your magic to try to get him to heal at elven speed despite the remnants of iron. Anything quicker than that, like the way I’ve seen you repair gashes and broken bones, would be impossible because of the iron.”
Lial nodded. “Exactly. Let’s connect so you can see the process.”
As soon as she agreed, Lial established a mental link. Not one so deep that she could discern his thoughts, of course, but she would have no trouble “watching” his magic with her own senses. Then he closed his eyes, hovered his hands over Caeleth’s abdomen, and sent his energy and awareness into his patient.
First, Lial observed. The stitches all held firm, and a few of the places where he’d been able to remove the iron fragments had begun to knit together on their own. But the area where he’d taken over for Elan was still a raw mess barely held together by thread. If Caeleth wasn’t unconscious, he would have busted the stitches open with the slightest movement.
Lial ensured that his patient was numb and unaware before shifting his energy into the worst section. He surrounded the area with his power and directed Caeleth’s organs to heal to their original state, following the stitches as a guide. As he expected, his patient’s body resisted the unnatural command to approach the iron.
With calm resolve, Lial poured more power in, implacably herding the man’s energy where it was needed. It took patience and an unfortunate amount of magic, but by the time Lial finally withdrew, Caeleth’s wound was more solidly knit. Not enough to allow him to wake, but it was a start.
Lial swayed on his feet before he adapted to the wave of exhaustion. He’d long ago learned to work with this level of tired, so his smile for Maddy was laced with wry humor. “Don’t worry. I won’t collapse on you.”
“I don’t know how,” she muttered. “No offense to your patient, but is that small amount of progress worth that kind of energy expenditure?”
“Absolutely. I will repeat that process many times over the next couple of days, and it will grow easier as his body expels the iron like any contaminant. Each treatment gets him closer to a full recovery.”
Maddy stared down at Caeleth. “That makes sense if you can manage it. I hope you can get some sleep.”
“Learning to stitch wounds is a great help. Many Moranaian healers don’t, their pride resting on their magic in the absence of iron.” Lial sighed. He’d learned the folly of that attitude at a far-too-early age. “My knowledge of the technique is why Telien invited me to be the main healer here four centuries ago.”
“Because Braelyn guards the portal to Earth?”
“Not primarily. He was fascinated with how his iron allergy worked and experimented with ways to overcome it. Needless to say, the Dianore family has always been…different.” As though summoned, Lyr’s mental presence nudged the outside edge of Lial’s awareness. “Speaking of which, it seems Lyr needs something. If you’ll forgive the rudeness.”
Lial opened the connection as Maddy nodded. “Yes?”
“I need you to come to my study,” Lyr said without preamble. “Kai received word that something is wrong with Naomh.”
He scowled, even though Lyr couldn’t see. “I do not have time to deal with the Seelie lord.”
“Caolte said something about Naomh shivering.”
“Miaran,” Lial cursed vehemently. “That symptom does not bode well right now.”
“My mother said the same.”
Despite his annoyance, Lial’s lips curved. Lynia truly had studied those books. “I will be there momentarily.”
When he focused on Maddy again, she was staring at him with concern. “Bad news?”
“Possibly,” Lial answered, allowing himself one long, tired exhale. “I must meet with Lyr. If you would have Fen and Anna come over from your guest tower to help protect Caeleth, you’ll have my appreciation.”
Maddy’s gaze darted to the door. “Isn’t there already a guard outside?”
“I have it under great authority that Caeleth needs to be well-shielded until the assassin is captured.” Lial gathered his cloak and strapped a pair of spiked metal soles to the bottom of his boots since the ice was now thick enough not to crack. “A certain prince-shaped authority.”
She nodded. “Got it. Fen and Anna incoming.”
With a quick thanks, Lial e
xited the tower and picked his way carefully along the trail. Though the spikes gave him traction, they also required a slower gait. A speed that gave him more than enough time to consider all that could be wrong with Lord Naomh.
None of them good.
Lynia rubbed the heel of her palm against her lower back and dropped into her customary chair at the top of the library tower. Selia sat across from her—Telien’s favorite spot—and Cora pulled the other seat from its place beside the window. To her surprise, Lynia found their presence in her sanctuary comfortable instead of intruding.
The topic of discussion notwithstanding.
“I was worried when Aris traveled to the outpost after Fen’s mysterious sickness, but that didn’t appear to spread to others,” Selia said. “I still find the entire concept difficult to fathom.”
Lynia grimaced. “As do I. The way the colony of Abuiarn was dismissed during my childhood studies, I never would have guessed it would somehow be involved in an elven plague.”
“Abuiarn?” Selia asked, her voice rising in surprise. “I learned a little about that place. As I recall, a mage released a terrible spell there. It has been some centuries since I heard the tale, though.”
“Before they could stop him, Bleyiak poured every drop of his hatred into the fracture. The Source heaved as it absorbed, and its touch brought perversion instead of renewal,” Lynia quoted. “That’s one of the few clues I have. But your familiarity with the place suggests that Meli’s runes were pointing toward the Citadel. I’ll contact their library next.”
Selia tucked a lock of dark golden hair behind her ear. “I don’t recall that exact passage, but it sounds right. Abuiarn is among the many cautionary tales we discuss during training.”
“That mention of pouring his energy into the Source…” Cora began, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “Even if there was a fracture, energy doesn’t typically work that way. The core of magic usually has too much push, so it would repel a spell like that. Without the right kind of connection, anyway. That passage you read doesn’t mention that his magic is bound to the place the way a Galaren’s would be, but that kind of link would make it easier to fracture and infect the core. He could have come from my home planet.”
Solace Page 14
