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Contempt leaked from Acheron, causing her to flinch. She had been about to suggest that as a half breed, not a full witch, he could not hold Tehdra’s spirit.
“That is all, my lords,” she all but whispered. “It is too late to administer our herbs.”
“Get the human,” Ajali ordered.
Many times she had worked miracles alongside his healers to save lives. Her skills were impressive.
“I will retrieve her,” Cadmus said, and flashed from the chamber to reappear mere seconds with the healer looking harried and anxious.
The king of Nuria has never summoned me before.
Her thoughts filtered to Acheron on a wave of panic. As a human she had only a few shields in place to protect her thoughts. He was a true part-witch, part-Serangite mongrel, yet his loyalty belonged to the king of Nuria, a thing his people on both sides resented heartily.
Her panic caressed his mind, and admiration stirred, for she appeared composed and confident.
Steady grey eyes focused on Ajali. “My king?” Then a soft gasp escaped her lips as she hurried to the bed.
So much blood.
Acheron picked through her thoughts, assessing her intentions. Rumor of Tehdra’s cool beauty and of Ajali’s fascination with her had even reached her ears. Fear rushed through the woman that she might not be able to save the king’s favorite concubine.
The healer’s name was Kismet.
“What did this?” Without waiting for an explanation, she crouched over Tehdra and started baring her wounds.
“Oh my God!” She breathed at the extent of the damage. She hastily checked and found no pulse. “My tools,” she demanded hoarsely, and blinked when they were immediately placed in her hands.
“There is no pulse.”
Her mind was a churning mess of anxiety and determination. Acheron shifted through the mire of her thoughts so he could respond to any needs she would have before she voiced them. The world she now lived in did not have the medical equipment she’d known on Earth. No paddles to recharge her heart, no blood transfusions. Yet, they were an advanced species over her race.
Acheron moved closer to her. “We have administered the elixir, and her body does not respond.”
She lifted her face to his briefly.
He is so stunning.
Acheron rocked back on his heels at her assessment of him.
“The healing waters of Boreas and Caelum?”
“Yes,” Ajali said.
She nodded. “How much was she given?”
“We gave her more than the required amount and the accelerated healing is missing.”
“There is no pulse,” she said with a frown. “I have heard a rumor that says if the body is dead the elixir is rendered useless.”
“Not the body, the spirit. Her spirit’s low hum is present, albeit buried deep.”
Her gaze slashed to Acheron only to swiftly look away.
A smile tugged at his lips. The healer did not want to know why he could feel the hari’s spirit. Kismet already had a hard time processing their speed and elements…and his eyes were wonderful to her.
She straightened from her examination. “Her organs are shredded, and there is a black scorch pattern on the edges of her wounds. She also possesses six deep wounds, and a blade is still embedded in the underside of her thigh.”
Ajali and Gavyn flashed closer, and she twitched as they crowded her space.
