“What happened?” Loren asked.
“Flea threw up, but he’s okay,” I said.
“Why did you get sick?” Quain asked.
Flea shrugged, but wouldn’t meet Quain’s gaze. “I guess when I try to use my magic, it makes me sick.”
A lame excuse and Loren was too smart to fall for it. But I gave him a pointed look and he dropped the subject.
Flea accompanied me during my afternoon rounds.
“Another aspect of Sepp’s magic is he could tell if an injured or sick man would die from his injuries,” I said.
“Isn’t that what I just did with Quain?” Flea hugged his arms to his chest.
“Not quite. Quain’s healthy. Sepp called death a threshold. He said he could see what caused a person to cross over the threshold and also sense if they’re close to crossing. He never mentioned being able to see into a person’s future. And knowing Sepp, he would have bragged about it and used it to his advantage.”
“Oh.”
I checked on Private Davin. Color had returned to his face. In fact, a little too much color and his breathing was ragged. Probably a fever.
“Flea, touch his hand, but don’t concentrate on anything. Just see if you get a...feeling.”
He hesitated then placed his fingertips on Davin’s knuckles. Flea snatched his hand away as if burned. “Something...” He tapped his chest. “In here. A clot? It’s not good.”
Surprised, I took Davin’s hand. My magic flowed into him. This time, I waited, letting it seep in, ignoring the obvious injuries. I detected a small blockage in his lungs. If left untreated, it would grow and be fatal.
“What’s wrong?” Flea asked.
“It’s a pulmonary embolism. You just saved his life.”
“Me? No, you. You’re the healer. You would have figured it out.”
“I was going to give him fever powder. If you hadn’t spotted it, he would have died tonight.”
Flea stared at me a moment as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d heard. “You mean, this...magic might be a good thing?”
“I know he can be annoying, but don’t you think waking Quain was a good thing?”
“Yeah, I did, but...that was more a onetime deal. And after seeing Quain’s...” He spread his hands. “Just seemed more like a curse.”
“It’s a gift from the Peace Lily. But I understand what you’re saying. Having magic is a mixed blessing. Yes, we have power and can do things others can’t, but we also have a duty to use them to help others and a responsibility not to abuse the gift.”
Flea groaned. “Why does everything have to be so complicated?”
“I wish I knew. And if I could, I’d change it in heartbeat, trust me.”
Before I healed Davin, I continued checking the rest of my patients. Growing bolder, Flea touched each one, reporting what he felt. Glad there hadn’t been any other medical surprises, I returned to Davin.
This time after my magic flooded him, I pulled it back into me, assuming the clot and his cracked ribs to make him more comfortable. Wheezing with the effort to draw breath, I walked gingerly to my cavern. Pain ringed my chest with every step. I almost passed out from taking off my boots.
“Avry, wait.” Flea carried a cot. He set it down next to the fire. “You shouldn’t be lying on the cold stone ground tonight.” He helped me lie on it, put my pillow under my head, and covered me with a blanket. Flea paused when he spotted Kerrick’s shirt on the floor. Then he scooped it up and tucked it next to me.
“Thanks, Flea.”
“You’d do it for me.”
“Yeah, but you’d complain I was fussing over you too much.”
He shot me his lopsided grin. “You are overprotective, but I’d be...sad if you weren’t. Good night, Avry.”
“Night.”
When he reached the exit, I called his name. He turned.
“I’d like you and the guys to bring your bedrolls back. It’s way too quiet in here.”
“Will do.” He saluted and left.
I drifted into a deep healing sleep. Dreams mixed with memories.
I stood in the garden in Sogra with Kerrick behind me. He traced the scars on my back as Tohon called my name. Instead of running away this time, I turned to embrace him. But he’d disappeared. A thorny bush grew in his place.
Tohon laughed. “You can’t escape me, my dear. I’m always with you. Unlike Kerrick, who has a nasty tendency to leave you when you most need him. Who’s going to save you now?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“You’re sick and injured.”
“I’m safe inside the cave.”
“Are you sure about that, my dear?”
A shuffling noise woke me. I peeked through slitted eyelids. Messy bedrolls surrounded the fire pit. The guys had been here, but by the tossed blankets and scattered pillows, I guessed they’d left in a hurry. Unease swelled. Drawing in a deep breath, I tested my ribs and lungs. Still very sore, limiting any extended physical activity.
More shuffling sounded nearby. I murmured and rolled over as if still asleep, managing to free my hands from the blanket. If I touched skin, I could defend myself. Too bad I’d left my stiletto in my pack.
After several minutes the slide step of boots resumed. Fear churned in my stomach, but I resisted the urge to tense my muscles. Two, maybe three people approached. Risking another peek, I spotted a black figure nearby.