Page 4 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

Her eyes widen. “Stonebloom?”

I dip my chin. I may not know every town citizen intimately, but my healing record has made my name a familiar one.

Her chin quivers. Fresh tears gather in her eyes. “Please…help my son.”

My heart clenches. “I will do everything I can.”

She nods, bites her bottom lip, and stands. I take her place, swiftly cataloging Rolf’s injuries.

The sleeve of a frayed sweater wraps around his thigh. The makeshift tourniquet slows the blood seeping from his lower leg. Dozens of cuts and scrapes pepper his arms and face. His wrist bends at an awkward angle.

I focus on his leg, marking it as the most significant injury. Though only the Gods know what’s going on inside the poor boy’s body.

Lev moves so he stands near the boy’s head and gives me an encouraging nod.

I lift my satchel over my head and set it on the ground. I retrieve a vial of rootshearth and wave it under Rolf’s nose. The herb, poisonous when ingested, but harmless when inhaled, works fast. His agonized squirming slows within seconds, and his eyes flutter open.

“Hello.” I soften my expression and smile. “My name is Elara. I’m here to help.”

He blinks slowly. His pupils are dilated. I add concussion to the possible list of injuries.

His dry, cracked lips part, but I rest a hand on his chest. “There’s no need to speak.”

His heartbeat thrums against my fingertips. I need to get that under control before his heart pumps all the blood out of his wound.

“I’m going to take a look at your leg. All right?”

His nostrils flare. He jerks his head and tries to sit up, crying out when he puts weight on his injured wrist.

“Hey there, buddy.” Lev kneels and places strong, scarred hands on Rolf’s shoulders, holding him down. “I’m Lev Ironheart. Have we met?”

The boy lies back on the couch, staring at Lev with unblinking eyes before he slowly shakes his head.

My healing skills may make me well known, but Lev’s family name and reputation as a skilled soldier make him famous. He’s a role model to almost every young man in town.

“No? Are you sure?” Lev leans in closer with a wink. “I thought I interrupted you and your friends sparring near the forest’s edge last week. If I remember correctly, you’re an impressive fighter.”

Rolf grins.

My heart warms, and I leave Lev to work his own type of magic and return my attention to Rolf’s leg.

His trousers are tattered, but the extent of his wound is hidden. I pull out my scissors and carefully cut the fabric above the knee, just below the tourniquet.

The fabric falls away. My blood runs cold.

White bone sticks out of Rolf’s shin in two places. Blood oozes from the open wound, but the lack of gushing tells me he avoided nicking an artery, at least.

“By the Gods,” his mother breathes behind me.

I shoot her a fierce look. “It’ll be fine.”

The last thing I need is her freaking out and sending her son into a panic. Luckily, Lev’s retelling of his latest fight with the formidable forest beasts holds Rolf captivated.

I wave rootshearth under his nose once more. His nose wrinkles, but he doesn’t look away from Lev. I cap the jar and set it back in my satchel. I scan Rolf’s body one more time, lifting his filthy tunic.

There are no other concealed injuries.

Good.