Solace

by Bethany Adams

  “Yes.” Though technically true, it didn’t precisely feel like it at the moment. “The virus is gone, at least. Full recovery will take more time. Is that why you’re here, then? No new disaster?”

  “I wanted to verify that Maddy and her mates will be able to travel back to Earth, and I’d heard rumors of the offerings piling up outside.” Lyr did grin, then. “I had to see that for myself.”

  Offerings? Lial gave Lynia a questioning glance, but her answering smile didn’t clarify matters. He blinked up at Lyr. “What do you mean?”

  “Based on the amount of gold, jewels, flowers, and herbs outside the front door, I’d say you’re more beloved than you know. Good thing Maddy moved to the guest tower. You might need the upper room to store it all. The attic would no doubt overflow.”

  Lial shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Lyr had to be overstating things. He didn’t doubt that he was appreciated, but beloved? That defied all reason. Honestly, the jokes about his ill humor were practically legendary. Who would leave gifts for someone with his reputation?

  “Don’t you have work to do?” Lial managed to grumble around the lump in his throat. “Panicked citizens? Afflicted Sidhe bond-relatives?”

  “If you mean Naomh and Caolte, I’m happy to report that your potion has been of some benefit. I spoke with Caolte about a mark ago, and he said there has been improvement.”

  Lial rubbed at his temples. “Send Inona with the new versions.”

  “I already have.” Lyr smiled. “Tynan suggested I do so. I also had one sent to Morenial over at Oria.”

  There was a place Lial wasn’t in the mood to consider. His failure to heal Korel was far too fresh in his mind, not to mention the fact that this treachery had begun at that estate with Allafon in the first place. His jaw clenched against a scowl. At least Lyr would be the one to deal with tracking down all involved in the latest plot.

  “What of our traitors?” Lynia asked, echoing his thoughts. “Have you made a decision about Fenere and Koranel?”

  Lyr’s jaw clenched. “Koranel has agreed to continue to appear friendly to the Sidhe lord Meren. If possible, he’ll infiltrate Meren’s inner circle and give us information.”

  Or perhaps it wasn’t a boon that Lyr was the one dealing with this. Infiltrating the Sidhe lord’s camp? There was an almost certain chance Lial would have another crisis to heal because of that, especially with Koranel involved. The man had already turned traitor once.

  “You would trust him after what he did?” Lial snapped.

  “I trust the blood bond.” Lyr shrugged. “Otherwise, we shall see. Fenere will be exiled, likely to one of the abandoned colonies. At this point, I don’t care which.”

  “No,” Lynia protested. Lial frowned at her sudden pallor, but the cause was quickly explained. “This plague came from Rrelen and was used on Abuiarn, and it is possibly the basis for Kien’s poison. I haven’t had time to research where Kien was exiled before he escaped to Earth. For all we know, he learned the trick in one of those places. It would be wise to consider future locations most carefully. I would rather not deal with another forgotten horror.”

  Lyr grimaced. “Indeed not.”

  A new wave of exhaustion swirled through Lial until he considered settling his head atop the table for a nap. He could no longer deny what he would tell any patient of his—he needed more sleep. Followed by another healing session and yet more sleep. If he remained in this seat any longer, they’d have to haul him to his bed.

  Lial stood, wavering on his feet. “I think I’m ready to rest now.”

  He barely remembered bidding Lyr farewell or settling beneath the covers. Everything was well-handled, no crisis awaiting him and him alone. As soon as Lynia nestled against him, he let himself drift to sleep.

  Lial was making her crazy.

  Only five marks past dawn, and already, Lynia was contemplating murder—and they’d slept through the first mark of that. Though his body was still weak, his magical energy had recovered, which made keeping him abed a nightmare. Every time she turned around, he was at the table taking notes from The Wayfarer’s Trial or pacing the floor like a caged camahr instead of lying in bed with the book she’d brought him.

  According to Tynan, multiple healing sessions throughout the night had repaired much of the damage to Lial’s organs, but such an unprecedented attack on the body had drained his physical reserves. Vitamins and minerals? Depleted. Innate cell repair? Sluggish. Magic could only do so much against that. He would need all of his energy to regenerate.

  But as usual, Lial had to push himself. She’d finally fled downstairs for a few moments of peace before she throttled him.

  Maddy and her mates had been allowed to return home, so Lynia didn’t even have Maddy to commiserate with. A week ago, she wouldn’t have expected to miss the trio, but she did. Tynan was nice enough, but he didn’t have the same openness as the young fae from Earth. Now, she was a little lonely. But at least she’d been able to make a special request of Fen.

  Stifling an inexplicable sense of frustration, she stopped at the table beside the workbench. Lial would have to sit still to eat, right? Sure. With a snort, Lynia lifted the tray of food and headed toward the stairs. She smiled at Caeleth and Tynan, who was helping the young mage eat his breakfast, but she didn’t pause to chat. Time to see what trouble Lial was getting into—risking himself in some way, no doubt.

  Her hands tightened around the breakfast tray as she navigated the spiral stairs to his room, but she almost threw the entire thing to the floor when she spotted Lial standing before his mirror and speaking to someone through the link. Why was he using that much magic so soon? Lynia sucked a breath in through her nose and did her best to settle the tray on the table without slamming it. She wanted to march over there, grab the tail of his glorious hair, and drag him back to the bed at once. Not for fun, either.

  “Thank you,” Lial said. Obviously not to her, for if he could hear her thoughts… “Any equipment you could send would be greatly appreciated. I hope to distribute as much of this potion as possible in case our containment spell failed to stop all infections.”

  When Lial closed the link a few moments later, Lynia approached. Now that the mirror had returned to casting a reflection, he caught sight of her and turned. The lines of strain around his mouth in no way eased her temper.

  “What would you say to me if I was doing this much work so soon after a major illness?” she asked sweetly.

  His lips twitched. “No doubt something terrible.”

  Lynia grabbed his wrist and tugged, drawing him toward the table. “Did you really need to expend your energy like that? Your body needs that power to heal. I’m sure Lyr would be willing to contact other estates for distilling equipment since he’s already hunting down more of the ilni mentioned in Emereh’s research.”

  “I’m not so bad as all of that,” Lial said, though he sat and took his food from the tray without complaint. “I should be able to return to my duties by this evening, tomorrow at the latest, which I’m certain Tynan and Elan will appreciate. Not to mention Caeleth. I’m sure he’s growing impatient with confinement, and Tynan is not as good at regeneration magic.”

  “He seemed content enough eating breakfast.”

  “But he will have to remain immobile after that,” Lial argued. “He risks tearing his stitches when he moves until I can speed the healing on his abdomen. That’ll be slow enough already if all the bleeding during the second surgery didn’t flush out the rest of the iron.”

  Logically, his words made sense. He had important duties awaiting his attention, like Caeleth’s healing. Lynia knew that. But she also knew Lial. As soon as he was well enough to work, he would overdo it again. She was not going to sit through another vigil, waiting to see if he would survive. At least not any time soon.

  “Perhaps I am selfish, but I want you to be in good health for me,” she finally admitted over her last bite of bread. “I want to be with you without worrying that you’ll regres
s. Not to mention that you’re a terrible patient. Do remember that next time you complain about someone who won’t take your advice.”

  Lial chuckled softly at the last, but his expression quickly sobered. When he ran his finger gently across the back of her hand, she shivered. “Perhaps I could use more time abed, Lyni. But I’m unaccustomed to indolence, you know. I might do better if you rested with me.”

  Her body went hot, but she shook her head. “You need more sleep.”

  “I assure you that is not what I need most.”

  “You almost died yesterday,” Lynia argued, doing her best to ignore the fire in his gaze. “As a healer, you should know better than anyone that you have to save all of your energy for recovery. I’m annoyed enough that I found you using the mirror before you’d even had breakfast.”

  Lial made a show of grabbing an extra slice of bread from the tray, and she rolled her eyes at him for the effort. “Ample nourishment should help more than anything, Lyni. And comfort. Closeness. Drifting in that dark place between life and death…”

  Some of her annoyance eased, if not the concern. “I slept at your side all night.”

  “And that was precisely what I needed. Then.”

  Lynia huffed. “Gods. Did I mention that you’re a terrible patient?”

  “I’m the worst,” he agreed without a hint of shame. “I ache for you, love. I want to seal the words spoken in darkness with our bodies now that I’ve returned to the light. I promise I am healthy enough for that.”

  When Lial stood, she did, too, but they didn’t touch. Instead, he held her gaze, his feelings shining clearly in his eyes—love and hope and longing. A desire only she could quench. Heat prickled her skin, and her breathing went quick and shallow. It would be foolishness to do this, wouldn’t it? But after all the fear and near-loss, the temptation was great.

  Lynia eased closer and wrapped her arms around his waist, settling her cheek against his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear, the same lullaby that had soothed her to sleep the night before. He was alive, and that hadn’t been a certainty less than a day ago.

  Maybe he was right—maybe they needed to be together.

  “I can’t believe I am considering this,” Lynia muttered into his tunic.

  Lial kissed the top of her head. “You’re more than welcome to take the lead again if you’re worried for me.”

  She leaned back. “And then you’ll try to use your magic on my back, won’t you?”

  “Maybe.” His hands slid along her spine in one long caress, his thumbs working out the slight ache she’d barely noticed when she first woke. “A fine test of my abilities, I’d say.”

  He cupped her bottom and drew her against his hardness, leaving no doubt about his readiness in that regard. There was no trembling in his hold, no sign of weakness in the muscles beneath her hand. She searched his face for any hint of strain and discovered only desire.

  Safe. It truly was safe. The danger was passed.

  It seemed she would get to keep him after all.

  Her worry crumbled, and she sagged against him. “I’ve been afraid to accept that the worst was all over. That you wouldn’t regress or just…”

  “Die suddenly, like Telien,” Lial said softly.

  Lynia nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Though you should know I’m too stubborn to die that easily, especially now that I have you. I’ve only waited twenty years.”

  “Is that all?” Lynia slid her fingers into the bundle of hair at the base of his head and tugged his mouth to hers for a longer, more satisfying kiss. Then she smiled against his lips. “It seems I’ll have to commission you a fabulous ring. Clearly, you deserve it.”

  “I only need you, Lyni,” he said.

  Her hesitation gone, she let him lead her toward the bed.

  The healer knew best, after all.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later

  * * *

  Lynia trailed her fingers up Lial’s side and smiled when he shivered. It was barely sunrise, but he’d wanted to awaken early so he could return to the healing tower before the storm hit. It hadn’t taken as much coaxing as she’d feared to convince him to join her in her room for most of the nights, especially since Tynan hadn’t yet departed.

  The healer-priest hadn’t agreed to stay, but she had a feeling Lial was wearing him down.

  “I must go soon,” Lial said, even as he tucked her closer against his side. “But if you want to make love again—”

  “That wasn’t what I had in mind. Not that the idea doesn’t have merit.” Lynia levered herself upright. Lial didn’t seem to notice when she reached for the small box on the side table, his focus on her nakedness. There was some benefit to attempting to surprise a man before getting dressed. “Hold out your hand.”

  Though he quirked an eyebrow, he sat up to do as she asked. Her heart fluttered as she placed the square wooden box atop his hand and waited. What would he think of her gift? He would never hurt her feelings on purpose, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be obvious if he was unhappy. That would hurt as much as an intentional slight.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  She huffed out an impatient breath. “Open it and see.”

  More slowly than strictly necessary, Lial lifted the lid and peered inside. For a moment, she could only study the forest scene intricately carved into the wooden top, too nervous to check the look on his face. But she couldn’t stand the suspense for more than a heartbeat. Unfortunately, his expression was blank.

  Dratted man.

  “You’ll need to use some words here, Lyni,” he said softly, his gaze lifting to hers. “There’s too much for me to interpret.”

  Lynia snatched the box from his hand and lifted out the ring, holding it up between them. The small vial still inside clicked gently against the wood as she settled the box in her lap. “I don’t want our relationship to be casual. Not that it is, but…I want you to marry me. You’ve already given me a ring, so I had one made for you. Fen had it sent through the outpost portal.”

  “I thought you were joking about that,” Lial said, his voice awed. “Are you certain about this? I would like nothing more than to wed, but there is plenty of time.”

  She smiled sadly. “Is there? I think it’s clear that not even our long-lived kind are guaranteed a single day. And didn’t you see the other thing I included?”

  He glanced down, and his eyebrows rose. “The fertility potion.”

  “We don’t have to use it now, but I don’t want to wait too long.” Lynia worried the little vial with the tip of her finger. “The shortness of time and such.”

  Lial stared at her for so long that she began to reconsider her definition of eternity, but a slow smile finally curved his lips. “Yes.”

  It wasn’t an opportune time to throttle him, and yet…

  “To which request?” she asked with all the patience she could gather.

  His grin widened. “Both, of course.”

  Finally, Lial took the ring and slid it onto his right ring finger. Unlike hers, the band had no stone, but the silver was engraved with tiny leaves. And the magic imbued inside was different. “According to Fen, you can alter the shape. Stretch it into a bracelet or necklace if you need it out of the way for surgery. Among other things, if you’d like to read the note.”

  He didn’t appear to be interested in those other things. Lial gave her a long, sweet kiss before lifting the vial from the box. “We may need to wait until tonight for this. Come to the healing tower with me in case we get iced in.”

  Lynia laughed. “I’m not certain I’m at a good point in my cycle for best effect, though I’m happy to join you regardless.”

  Lial settled his hand low on her abdomen. “May I check?”

  Lynia nodded, her hands knotted in the sheets. What if he found a problem? The potion would be a waste, and they would both be disappointed. Not even the peaceful swell of his healin
g magic eased her fear—and his sudden pallor certainly didn’t.

  “We’ll…not need this at the moment,” he finally murmured, placing the vial back into the box.

  Her heart dropped. “Something is wrong.”

  “You misunderstand.” His wide eyes found hers. “We… You…”

  Gods. Would she have to shake the words free? “Miaran, Lial. You’re a healer. You should have plenty of experience delivering bad news by now.”

  “That’s not…” He pressed his palm between his eyes before dropping his hand with a sigh. “Lyni, you’re already pregnant. With, ah…two.”

  It took so long for the first part to sink in that she almost missed the second. “What? You must be mistaken.”

  Annoyance replaced some of the shock in his eyes. “I assure you I am more than capable of such a simple examination, my love.”

  Of course he was. She knew that. Even so, it took several heartbeats before she could fathom the reality. She’d wanted to have children soon, but she hadn’t expected it to be so fast. Or…numerous. “Will they be identical, do you think?”

  “No.” Smiling, Lial closed the box and settled it on the table. Her thoughts were still a muddled mess when he drew her into his arms. “They are fraternal. Conceived just after my illness, considering their developmental stage.”

  “Twins are such a rarity,” she whispered against his neck.

  His breath rustled her hair. “Typically. But you were beside me when Aris flooded me with life magic to eradicate the last of the virus. I should have considered that.”

  That reminded her of the fertility potion, and a new thought crossed her mind. Even though he’d been the one to take the tincture designed to increase her fertility, she’d gotten pregnant anyway. As laughter shook her body, Lial drew back with a concerned frown. Eventually, she wiped her eyes and grinned.

  “Maybe it’s my fault,” she said, stifling another chuckle. “I did give you that fertility potion out of desperation. Elan said it shouldn’t affect men, but…”