Page 48

Story: Dawnbringer

The leader of the group, a man with graying hair and lines on his face, pointed an accusing finger at Mina. “It’s like I wasjust telling this one. We don’t want your kind here! Take care of your own, and let us take care of ours.”

There was a rallying cry from the gathering mob.

Aiden stepped forward, keeping his tone steady. “We’re here to help.”

“Help?” The man sneered, his fists clenched. “You smug bastards must think we’re fools. Fey don’t waste resources saving human lives.”

Ivain was doing his best to support the human population. But the man was right—not all Fey were in agreement on the allocation of supplies and labor.

Mina’s voice was steady despite the tension. “We’re here because wewantto help. We took an oath as healers—”

The man spat in her face. “That’s what I think of your oath. And I certainly ain’t takin’ the word of the Fey cunt trying to lock up my daughter.”

A girl, maybe 6 years old, with chestnut curls that fell to her waist in tangles, clung to a woman standing nearby. Her nose was red, her eyes clouded with fever.

Mina said, “I can understand your concern, but it’s standard quarantine procedure—”

The man spat again. Mina frowned, dragging a finger through the spittle on her cheek and flicking it away. Aiden admired her restraint. The man was either brave, stupid, or desperate—or some combination of all three—to pick a fight with someone who could wipe him off the face of the planet with half a thought.

Still, it might be better not to test that restraint any further.

Aiden pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers. “Mina is here to help, just like me. If you have concerns, we can talk, but violence won’t solve anything.” Getting close enough, he asked her, “What’s going on here?”

Mina’s eyes, a soft shade of lavender that swirled with a mix of impatience and bewilderment, flicked to him. “This man brought his daughter into the clinic. I examined her and determined that she needed to be admitted. Then he just went crazy on me.”

“She tried to lock up our girl because of a fever and a rash,” the man insisted gruffly.

“Quarantine,” Mina shot back. “We’re dealing with an outbreak. It’s standard procedure to separate the infected and healthy populations.”

Aiden held up a hand. “Let me the see the girl.”

The man began to speak up, but Aiden quieted him with a look. He was taller than Mina, broader, and brute strength was a threat anyone could understand.

He waved her forward. The girl let go of her mother’s hand and timidly stepped forward.

Aiden knelt in front of her, felt her forehead, her glands, her joints. His aether pulsed, and a green light swept across her skin and made the blue of her eyes flicker.

“The father is right,” he concluded. “She’ll be fine in a few days with a little rest.”

“Ha!” the man barked, stabbing a finger at Mina.

The woman sobbed in relief, opening her arms for the girl who ran back to her.

“Give her plenty of fluids, and if you have any other children, keep her away from them,” Aiden instructed, rising to his feet.

“I really don’t think—” Mina began.

“We’re setting up the quarantine to contain sickness, not to separate families,” Aiden said firmly. “This girl has the chicken pox.”

Mina blinked. “Humans can catch diseases from chickenstoo? Are you serious?”

Aiden sighed. They were short on, well, everything—but especially healers. Most were either stationed at the front lines or dealing with the influx of wounded still pouring into the city. Human illness was low on the list of priorities, which was why he’d volunteered when his uncle was scrounging together resources to address the rising cases of shaking fever moving through the human population.

Besides him, there was a retired military veteran and the handful of private physicians the nobility had donated to the cause. Mina was one of the latter. He could tell by the very stylish, verycleanrobes and general air of elegance that seemed so out of place in the camp’s rough and muddy surroundings.

“I’m sorry,” Aiden said to the man. “Most of our healers don’t have much practical experience with common human ailments. Stop by the medicinal tent on your way out. They should be able to give you a salve for the itching.”

The man nodded, grateful but wary. He shot a final glare at Mina before herding his family away. The group dispersed with them, disappointed there hadn’t been more of a spectacle.

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