Page 9

The carved mahogany doors of the Healers Wing stood open, the long hall beyond them spacious except for the rows of curtained-off cots.

Some were occupied with minor injuries: rope burns, broken bones, and seasickness.

It seemed strange to Maude that the Elven would be afflicted by the same things that humans were. It was so mundane.

In the small room beyond the hall of cots, the Matron Elven Healer's office was ajar.

The candlelit room was spacious for an office; in the back, right corner stood a worktable holding all sorts of jars, herbs, poultices, and a mortar and pestle.

Next to the worktable, a fireplace roared with heat that was currently cooking whatever foul-smelling potion the Matron was concocting in an iron pot.

On the other side of the room, next to a second door that led out of the office, was a long cot that the Matron usually slept on when she didn't want to retire to her private quarters.

Gunnar was currently asleep on that cot, his skin still pallid and sickly in the low light.

He looked the same as he did the last three days that Maude had come to see him.

Sitting by his bedside, the Matron was packing the wound on his scalp with a poultice that contained so many fragrant herbs that Maude couldn't pick out a single one as they flooded the small space.

The antidote to the poison currently wreaking havoc on Gunnar's body was only just beginning to work, or so the healer claimed yesterday.

"Matron," Maude said in greeting as she strode into the room.

The female stood, her tall form rising to Maude's eye level.

The Matron Elven Healer was ethereal; her black hair shone in its tight braids that had been wrapped into a messy bun at the back of her head.

She wore the loose linen tunic and pants the healers wore when they worked, the black color beautiful against her flawless deep, bronze skin.

Humorous amethyst eyes met Maude's as she bowed slightly.

"Good morning, Your Highness," the Matron said, her soft voice light and even.

Maude groaned and cringed internally. "I've asked you to call me by my name. I recognize no such title here."

A small smile graced the Matron's lips. "And I have asked that you call me Dahlia. 'Matron' sounds stuffy and old."

Maude smiled at the female, her amusement genuine despite the way her world continued to fall apart. One of the first places she had insisted on visiting was where Gunnar was being treated. The first time she met the Matron Elven Healer—Dahlia— Maude was instantly taken with her.

Younger than most of the Elven working in this wing, Dahlia was bright and funny, her words warm and presence comforting.

When she needed to be serious, like when she worked, her entire being became focused on her task at hand; nothing could shake her from that focus, not even the dramatic entrance of a bleeding dock worker whose arm was crushed between two carts that crashed while he was loading one up.

Maude had watched Dahlia not even blink at the disruption when she was working on Gunnar that day when the dock worker had been brought in for another healer to work on. She had been impressed then, and now, she was in complete awe of her.

"How is he this morning, Dahlia?" Maude asked, her eyes going to Gunner.

The older man looked small lying on the cot.

His skin still held a sheen of sweat, and his strong body looked more lanky than she was used to.

Though his braids remained tight down the center of his head, the scar from the poisoned blade that cut through his scalp still shone bright red.

Fluid leaked from the site around the healing poultice, and black veins extended out from the open flesh.

Dahlia hesitated for only a moment before she answered.

"He had some seizures again last night, but they stopped about an hour ago.

The wound isn't weeping as much as it was before, which tells me the antidote is working, but I'm concerned the seizures might become a lifelong symptom if he doesn't turn a corner soon. He just needs more time."

Maude closed her eyes as she sat beside Gunnar, her dry hand against his clammy palm.

He still did not stir, but that was expected.

Dahlia had explained that they were giving him a sleeping draught to keep him under so he could heal.

Liv moved closer behind Maude, her presence a balm as they stood over their friend.

Gunnar was special to both of them, and visiting him as he slept was the only thing they could do to help, so they sat with him often.

However, someone was missing from their group.

The least the prick could do was visit his oldest friend: a man he grew up with, a man who lived and breathed to defend his kingdom.

Enough , Maude thought as she released Gunnar's hand and stormed out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Liv asked as she chased after her, alarm heavy in her question.

"To give the gods damned Heir of Rivers a piece of my mind," Maude growled as she tore through the Midnight Palace, heading for the room Hakon had been hiding in since they had arrived.

Maude's vision narrowed, shadows blurring around the edges of the hall as she reached Hakon's door.

Without knocking, she slammed the double doors open to Hakon's suite, startling the Prince from where he had been sprawled on one of the plush chairs.

A bottle of purple liquor fell from his hands, splashing onto the deep red carpet.

She stopped ten paces away from Hakon, her stance wide and her hands balled into fists that wreathed with her fire.

Since she had woken, Maude had done nothing but work on regaining her strength after laying dormant for so long.

Her muscles held her weight now, and her galder had returned to full strength.

"What the Hel is your problem?" Maude seethed through her teeth at the Rivers Heir.

He quickly recovered from his shock, fury splitting his features as his galder surfaced.

Dark purple bruises stained the skin under Hakon's usually bright blue eyes.

Now, they were dull, resembling her own during her ten years as a pit fighter.

Anguish clung to his features underneath the simmering anger.

Maude ignored the grief that she shared for Eydis, the air vitki who had joined them on their journey by accident after she had fallen for the Heir of Rivers.

When she died in the Knotted Caverns, Hakon had been altered.

It was clear what had driven the beginnings of his personality change.

"Get. Out," Hakon ordered, water twirling through his fingers like ribbons that would extinguish her flames when he wanted them to.

"No," Maude said as she grinned. If he wanted to fight, they would fight. "You're angry with me, that's obvious. But when are you going to own up to the fact that you are angry with yourself more than anyone?"

Hakon flung his hand toward her, a ball of spinning water aimed for her chest, but Maude spun out of the way. It crashed into the wall behind her, cracking the stone of the wall.

Gods, he had really tried to hurt her.

Before he could strike with another blow, Maude threw up an air shield and began shooting fireballs at Hakon.

He dodged them, but it was clear his alcohol intake had slowed his reaction time.

Vines from outside the window started to creep in toward Maude to restrain her.

She burned them away, the ash leaving trails of death throughout the room.

Before he could throw more galder at her, Maude swung at him with her short sword.

He caught the edge of the blade on his axe, pulling his dagger from his belt at the same time.

Metal cracked against metal as they pushed at each other, their anger and frustration building between them.

Maude caught his ankle with the curve of her axe and pulled his feet out from under him, sending Hakon crashing onto the small table in the center of the living space.

The dark wood groaned and finally gave in under the dead weight, sending the Heir sprawling onto the floor.

He bounced up as quickly as the alcohol in his system allowed, picking up a chair in the corner of the room with his vines and launching it at Maude.

She rolled away easily enough, lifting her sword and axe again to swing at the Prince.

He stumbled toward her, his eyes intermittently becoming glassy.

Whatever liquor he was drinking before she came in was quickly overcoming him, and he would kill them both in his rage.

Before she knew what she was doing, Maude dropped her weapons and delved deep into her galder .

Before she knew what she was reaching for, she gripped the fluid black threads that had always been entwined with her golden flames in the heart of her magic.

The shadows that had always hung in her periphery shot out in thick ropes of darkness, wrapping around Hakon's ankles.

He tried to dodge her attack, but he was clumsy with drink.

She used it to her advantage as she swallowed her surprise.

Her control of the shadows that had always lingered around her came to her as easy as breathing did.

She tried not to think too hard about it as she brought her focus back to the Heir of Rivers.

Maude pulled hard, knocking him on his ass before her grip on the shadows slipped. As they dissolved, she flicked her air galder at him and lifted him by the ankles. Suspended by her wind, he recovered from having the breath stripped from his lungs.

He was breathing heavily, his face turning red as the blood rushed to his head. Maude lowered his face so he was level with hers. Before he could reorient and reach for more galder , Maude willed the shadows to wrap around his hands and mouth.