Page 10

Story: Prophecy of the Wolf

What if I could convince them to stay?

I rejected the foolish thought as soon as it came. They were obviously headed somewhere. They had lives, goals, probably families. Why on earth would they stay here with me, in this dusty, deserted castle? I was no longer a pampered princess, but a raggedy vagabond wench. I was no prize anymore.

But that didn’t stop me from falling into frenzied, passionate dreams when sleep finally did find me, leaving me aching and frustrated when I woke.

As soon as the sun began dropping behind the mountains, it cast glowing rays through my window. It was time to get up. I threw off my blankets and got dressed—much more presentably this time. It had been months since I’d worn a proper dress, and getting the ties fastened behind my back was a cramp-inducing chore that took far longer than necessary.

When I got it as tight as I could, I went through the herculean task of brushing the knots out of my long hair, deciding to leave it down because I couldn’t stand another second of not seeing them and making sure they were real.

I flew down the stairs with hasty feet, nearly tripping over the skirt of my dress. When I found Tannin still there, kneeling by Jax’s side, a huge wave of relief washed over me.

At least until I saw the lines of dread etched into his handsome face when he turned at my entrance.

“He’s feverish,” Tannin said, his voice heavy. “I think his wound is infected.”

I rushed to his side to examine Jax. Indeed, his pallor had turned a sickly yellow, and his forehead and chest were covered in a film of sweat. I peeled back the bandage on his abdomen and gasped at the blooming redness that surrounded the sutures and the yellowish puss that oozed between them. It reminded me all too much of the sores on my parents’ bodies.

“You’re right,” I said through a tight throat. “It is infected. Badly.”

“Do you have any medicine?” Tannin beseeched desperately. “Anything to combat the infection?”

I swallowed thickly. “No. All the medicine stores were depleted before the end of the plague. I’m so sorry.”

“No!” he bellowed, making me flinch. “No, he can’t die! There must be something we can do. Please, don’t let him die.”

My brows puckered at the heartache on his face and in his voice. I wanted to help them, I really did. But there was nothing—

My breath hitched as an idea sprang to my mind.

“There might be something I can do,” I hedged cautiously. “B-but it might not work.”

“Yes, please!” he begged. “Anything. Just try!”

“Okay,” I agreed.

I ran to the kitchen counter where I had left the book of spells last night after my obsessive garden adventure and began to hastily flip through it. I remembered seeing a few spells for healing. At the time I’d thought that if only I’d had access to this during the plague, I might’ve been able to save some of those who were lost. I could’ve saved my parents.

There were different healing spells. One for illness, one for broken bones, one for reviving from a coma...

“Ha! Found it!” Spell for healing a flesh wound. This one didn’t require any ingredients like some of the others, only the complete focus of the Wielder and the intention to heal.

I clutched it against my chest and made to dart back out, but something made me pause. My intuition told me to keep the book safe, even from my guests. So, I lowered the open book in my arms and read the short incantation over and over, committing it to memory, then closed the book and stashed it in a cabinet.

I returned to the den, repeating the incantation in my mind. When I knelt beside Jax once more, I removed his bandage completely and put both hands over the stitched gash.

“What are you doing?” Tannin blurted out in fretful confusion.

“Just be quiet,” I told him, closing my eyes. “I need to concentrate.”

When he didn’t make another sound, I set my intention and spoke the incantation out loud.

“Vulte riay kai altum.”

Just as yesterday in the garden, a comforting warmth blossomed in my belly, rose up my chest and spilled down my arms, flowing into the angrily hot flesh beneath my palms. I could feel the magic working through me like I was merely the conduit, stitching back together the separated flesh.

Then the sensation grew cool, like pool water on a hot summer’s day, sucking the heat of infection from Jax’s skin. And then the flow stopped altogether.

I opened my eyes and looked down as I pulled my hands away, and though I knew what I’d find, it still shocked and thrilled me to see the gash gone, the thread I’d used to sew it laying loosely on top of his belly.