Solace

by Bethany Adams

  A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “Healers are difficult to keep unconscious. We know how to unravel the spell, and we often do so unintentionally. But it wasn’t pain that made me stir this time. Truthfully, I’m not certain what drew me to the surface. A blue light?”

  “The camahr,” Lynia said softly.

  “If anyone but you made that claim, I doubt I would believe it.” Lial’s eyes drifted closed, and a quiet sigh slipped from his lips. “Gods, I’m tired.”

  Her throat tightened. “I hope the others hurry,” she rasped.

  One eye slitted open. “Why?”

  “To scan you.” Lynia resisted the urge to run her hands along his body in a useless attempt to check him for illness. It wasn’t as though she would glean any insight. “If you are recovered, you shouldn’t be so weak, right?”

  “Not necessarily,” Lial answered. “But I think I can summon enough energy to scan for myself.”

  Lynia shook her head. “You shouldn’t…”

  She let the words trail away when she felt his magic pass beneath her hand where it still rested against his chest. Of course he hadn’t been able to resist. What had she expected? Had she the ability to scan herself, she wouldn’t have had the restraint, either. Very little would be able to stop Lial.

  The frustrated huff of his breath made her heart leap. “What’s wrong?”

  “Only a few remnants of the virus remain, and those are no longer replicating.” Deep furrows formed around Lial’s mouth as his lips turned down. “But the damage left behind is…extensive.”

  She drew back, her spine stiffening so much her muscles ached their protest. “Damage?”

  His intensifying frown did nothing to ease her worry. “Relax, Lyni. I don’t have the energy to heal your back right now. If the muscles spasm—”

  “Truly, I cannot believe you are fussing at me about an old injury after what you just learned.” Nevertheless, Lynia closed her eyes for a moment and forced her muscles to relax before she continued. “You are being rather casual about damage you called extensive.”

  Lial’s shoulder lifted slightly, rustling the bedding. “It is healable. Though nearly every organ sustained some injury, rest and a few healing sessions should be enough for a full recovery.”

  The words should have eased her heart, but they didn’t. Lynia couldn’t manage to release the apprehension that had held her prisoner since she’d first learned of his infection. Could they trust this potion? She weighed the facts in her mind—the success at Abuiarn, Caeleth’s recovery, and Lial’s own scan—but fear refused to give way to reason.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispered. And suddenly, she understood why. “I lost Telien so unexpectedly and in an unnatural way. I can’t seem to process hope.”

  “Ah, beloved.” Slowly, Lial freed his arm from the covers. Then he surprised her by settling his hand against her hip, and that small motion brought her more comfort than anything. If he believed the virus still posed a threat, he wouldn’t touch her. “I never prevaricate about matters of health, as many an unhappy patient can attest. You included.”

  Lynia found herself chuckling, and some of her tension dissolved. If not all of the worry. “True enough.”

  His lips curled upward. “Besides, I well remember what you said when you gave me solace. When a woman offers her love and bids you to father her children, it would be a terrible insult to die. I will recover, though it might take a few days.”

  Her cheeks heated. “Didn’t we also need to decide where to live?”

  “I suppose so,” he murmured. “But not now. At the moment, I care only about resting here with you.”

  Lynia shifted her books to the side table and then slipped beneath Lial’s arm to settle against him. The steady thrum of his heart under her ear soothed the remainder of her tension until finally, she allowed the bone-deep fear to release. Faith was never easy to grasp or maintain.

  But it was time.

  Chapter 45

  Lial drifted in and out of sleep for an indeterminate amount of time before a voice cut through the peace. “It actually worked.”

  He cracked his eyelids open, though it almost wasn’t worth the effort. It was Tynan, and the man would no doubt be smug about having assisted. But Lial had to admit there was no hint of that emotion on the other’s healer’s face as he studied Lial. Relief and happiness, but no self-satisfaction.

  “We did it,” Tynan said to Aris, on his right. “The magic portion, at least.”

  Lynia straightened to a sitting position, her pale hair tumbling around her. “I was unaware you had such strenuous doubts about that outcome.”

  Tynan winced. “I did say the results weren’t guaranteed.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Don’t fret, Lyni,” Lial said before she could tear into Tynan. “Healers are an odd bunch when it comes to predictions. Some things are better left unsaid.”

  A hint of surprise sparked in Tynan’s gaze. “Thank you. Yes. I didn’t want to offer false hope or false fear. Forgive me if my moment of pride caused alarm.”

  Amusement flickered through him at the others’ expressions. Tynan, eyes still wide after Lial’s defense. Aris’s hint of a smile at the interplay. And Lynia, her eyes narrowing in anger once more. Lial chuckled, a sense of contentment easing his tight muscles at the experience. He’d feared more than once that he wouldn’t live to see something so normal again.

  “Might I ask what caused such uncertainty?” Lial asked.

  “Ah,” Tynan began, his gaze sliding briefly to Lynia. “Apparently, the healer who created the potion was also a life mage and imbued his concoctions with that energy. Aris and I had to improvise something similar. I used your work on the fertility potion as a reference since you have a method to prevent the life magic from dispersing before use.”

  “Glad to see the potion is already coming in handy, if not the way I’d intended.” Lial did a quick scan of himself, then blinked against the surge of dizziness the use of his magic triggered. “I don’t believe there are active remnants of the virus remaining, but my strength is…diminished.”

  Lynia rubbed his shoulder. “You should let yourself rest.”

  “Sorry, love. It’s difficult to fight against habit.” Lial slid his hand back to her hip and tried not to worry about the effort it took. “In any case, it seems I owe you all thanks.”

  “Not quite yet. There is more work to be done.” In one sudden motion, Aris drew his sword, and a surge of life magic pulsed through the room as green flared around the blade. “With the virus inactive, I should be able to purge anything that remains. I don’t sense the perversion surrounding the vile construct, but nevertheless, safety demands it. I’ve already done the same for Caeleth, and it doesn’t risk using enough energy to alter you in any way.”

  Lial studied the other man for a moment as he considered the offer. As he’d learned when Aris had provided energy during Caeleth’s surgery, life magic was a heady thing. But it was also a rare gift. Such mages were wary of others’ requests even without the kind of terrible experience Aris had suffered—too many would be happy to misuse such potent power.

  “What’s wrong?” Lynia asked.

  “I admit I worry about being swept away. A healer sensing the heartbeat of life…”

  Lynia took his hand between hers and squeezed. “Then focus on me.”

  Nodding, Lial closed his eyes and reached mentally for Lynia. It took a mere breath for them to link, their connection stronger than it had ever been. They might not have a soulbond, but they were nearly as close.

  “I need to find a ring for you now,” Lynia whispered into his mind. “Perhaps I can get Fen to concoct something for me.”

  The thrill of that statement dulled the shock of Aris’s magic flooding his veins. “You truly weren’t jesting.”

  “Jest—” Her hands tightened around his. “We were talking about children and living situations. Do you truly believe I joke about such things?”
<
br />   Life magic surged, and Lial sucked in a breath. He had to force his thoughts away from the beckoning pull of life. What had she asked? If he thought she’d jested about her feelings? “No,” he answered gruffly. “But I can’t resist needling you.”

  “I would think you’d had enough of needles,” Lynia grumbled.

  With that sobering reminder, Lial shook his hand loose so he could twine their fingers together. Energy arced between them, but he did his best to ignore it. “I promise I was not intentionally careless. You’re right that I should be more mindful. And as much as I hesitate to participate in one of Ralan’s plans, his idea has merit. A healing enclave on the edge of the estate would allow me to see serious patients in the area while having enough assistance to keep me from becoming overwhelmed. How do you feel about doing research there?”

  Her hesitation felt thoughtful, not upset, and her mental voice was vaguely happy when she finally replied. “I find I like the idea. I’m not particularly useful here.”

  His mind rebelled at her words, but before he could counter them, another, stronger wave of power washed through his body. Lial gasped from the force. Life glimmered at the edges of his vision, clouding his thoughts. How did Aris resist diving into the flow and merging with it?

  So beautiful.

  Then Lynia jostled his hand, bringing him back to their discussion—and the protest he couldn’t deny. It hurt his heart that she believed herself to be useless. Even now, she was helping more than she knew.

  “That’s not true, Lyni.”

  “I am not maligning myself. It is true,” Lynia insisted. “Lyr had the estate handled even before Arlyn and Meli arrived. Now, he has an heir to train and a new Myerna to help with his duties. Except for the odd bit of research, I have had little to do. For a while after Telien’s death, that was what I needed. But not anymore. I tire of being ‘the Myern’s mother who hands out history books.’”

  He almost protested again out of reflex, but when he considered her words more deeply, he was able to see the truth in them. She had been treated in just such a way of late. Why hadn’t he noticed her discontent? Had he been too caught up in her recent injury to see the greater picture? Obviously so. He should have guessed—the quiet types like Lynia always hid their unhappiness for as long as they were able.

  Ralan’s offer would provide satisfaction in more than one way, then. Lynia had shown great skill at distillation, and with a proper healer’s library, she would be a huge asset to the enclave. One they would likely need, if Ralan’s involvement was anything to go by. Better not to think about that, though.

  “We should do it,” Lial finally replied.

  The life magic began to ease, and he wanted to cry out at the loss. His hand jerked with the urge to reach out as though he could hold the energy close, but Lynia’s grip tightened again, anchoring him. He forced himself to relax. To let that beautiful power go.

  This time, Lial spoke aloud, centering himself in his own body—and away from the tempting life energy “Are you willing to be in charge of the research library? I’ll have enough to do finding healers to staff the enclave, not to mention a replacement here.”

  “I would enjoy working on the library. But aren’t you still going to see patients?” Lynia asked. “It shouldn’t be that far.”

  Now that the green light had faded, Lial cracked his eyelids open so he could connect with Lynia’s gaze. “Yes, but considering training emergencies, storms, and such, it’s important to have someone immediately available.”

  As though summoned by his words, Maddy’s head poked up from the stairs. “We have a shattered scapula down here. Or whatever you call it. Shoulder blade?”

  With a sigh, Tynan shook his head. “I’m beginning to regret revealing that I can heal more than minds. Please, rest. I can’t wait to hand your estate back to you. I don’t even want to think about whatever enclave you’re discussing.”

  Lial narrowed his gaze on the man’s back as he hastened toward the stairs. He’d formed a poor impression of Tynan after his slip during Aris’s healing, but that opinion had perhaps been hasty. If the man was capable of deconstructing the method Lial had used in the fertility potion and applying it to something new, he was obviously talented. He could also heal broken bones, it seemed. And having a mind healer available was hardly a bad thing.

  “You’re still considering relocating?” Aris asked. “If you’re thinking of asking Tynan to replace you here, I doubt he would agree. He’s a priest. Most prefer to live close to their order.”

  “His parting words weren’t encouraging, either,” Lynia said.

  Lial merely smiled. The idea might go nowhere, but he couldn’t shake the thought that he’d already found his replacement.

  Tynan just didn’t know it yet.

  Lial only lasted a handful of marks before exhaustion gave way to impatience. It wasn’t quite the middle of the night, but the tower had fallen into silence. Lynia slept against his side, and for a time, he contented himself with running his fingers through her hair where it draped across his chest. That didn’t occupy him for long, though.

  He did a deeper scan of himself than he’d dared before. Tentatively at first, but once it was clear that the virus was completely gone, he searched each vein and organ and catalogued every hint of damage he discovered. Not comforting, in truth. He could have ingested fire laced with poison for all the trauma his body had endured. His body would heal naturally, but it would take weeks without help.

  He had sufficient energy now to do a healing session on himself. It would drain him enough that he would be useless to anyone else, but for the first time in years, he didn’t hesitate to dismiss all those faceless others. He couldn’t neglect his own health, not after something like this.

  Besides, the longer he was ill, the more Lynia would worry. He couldn’t have that.

  Oddly, healing himself took far more concentration than working on another, and by the time he’d completed the session, he was tired enough to drift in and out of sleep for a while. But it didn’t take long for his restless energy to return. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to determine why he couldn’t stay asleep.

  Lial glanced at the water clock, and his brows rose. It was only a couple of marks past dinnertime, though it had seemed so much later. No wonder. He rarely went to bed so early even when he was exhausted, and he’d been unconscious a great deal of the day. His mind was searching for normalcy.

  Whispers wound their way up the stairs, catching his attention. Was Tynan still here? Elan or Maddy? Lial searched the tower with his magic and detected Tynan’s and Maddy’s energy below. And Lyr’s. Frowning, Lial jostled Lynia awake. As soon as she sat up, blinking at him in confusion, Lial eased himself out of bed.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her sleep-roughened voice tempting him to crawl back in beside her.

  “I sense Lyr below,” Lial answered. “I’m going downstairs.”

  Lynia scowled. “He can come up here. You’re recovering.”

  “I need to move, anyway,” Lial said.

  “But—”

  “Would you help me on the stairs?” He wasn’t fond of pleading, but he might consider it in this case. If he had to stare at the ceiling until dawn, he would go mad. “I have to ease my restlessness. Maybe then, I’ll be tired enough to go back to sleep.”

  Though she muttered beneath her breath, Lynia stood and brushed the wrinkles from her rumpled clothes. Then she walked around the bed to his side, her eyebrow rising as she waited for him to move. And he would. In a moment. His leg muscles simply needed to adjust.

  Lynia crossed her arms. “Get back in bed.”

  Shaking his head, Lial took a tentative step forward. Then another. It wasn’t too bad if he kept his gaze locked on a set point to prevent dizziness from creeping in. He’d healed people when he’d felt only slightly less bad. He could do this.

  With Lynia’s steadying hold on his arm, he finally reached the small, triangular landing where the spiral s
taircase paused on his floor. Panting, he leaned against the center column and peered down. There hadn’t always been so many steps, had there? He was considering the merits of plopping down at the top for a rest when he heard the door open below. Clechtan. Who was leaving?

  “Wait!” he called.

  Maddy appeared at the base of the stairs. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “That’s what I asked,” Lynia complained.

  Lial attempted to smile, but he suspected it was more a grimace. “I sensed Lyr below. Has something else happened?”

  “By the gods.” Lyr’s voice drifted up the stairs, though Lial couldn’t see him. “Go sit down before you collapse. I’ll come up.”

  He’d wanted to rid himself of his restless energy, and that goal was more than accomplished. Without a word, he faced the table and set a new task—reaching a chair without tumbling on his ass. Not a single person here would let him forget it if he ended up comatose on his own bedroom floor.

  He released his hold on the column and wavered on his feet. Lynia tightened her hold on his arm to help him regain his balance, and he gave her a grateful, if weak, smile before he started to walk. Lial didn’t glance toward the stairs again until she’d helped him into a seat, which was thankfully angled out enough that he could lean against the table. He expected to find Lyr grinning at him from the top of the steps, but as with Tynan, there was no hint of smugness on his friend’s face. An unusual occurrence, since Lial honestly deserved it. He’d given Lyr enough grief about overdoing it while recovering from injuries, after all.

  “I wasn’t trying to wake you,” Lyr said, his gaze shifting momentarily to Lynia, who’d sat at the table across from Lial.

  “You didn’t,” Lial replied. “My body might be tired, but my mind wouldn’t let me rest.”

  “Were Tynan and Aris correct?” Lyr strode forward before stopping to hover at the edge of the table like a camahr mother at mealtime. “Are you healed?”