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From the look on Laethan’s face, his explanation was a total flop.
“I don’t want your insurance money, A.J.” Janice waved a pointed finger in Doc’s face. “I’ve spent enough time alone, and I’ve no desire to do it again.”
Stepping forward, he cradled her face in his hands and kissed her. “I love you, Janice. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made this decision without talking to you. But there are good people dying because they can’t get medical care.”
“Why can’t Laethan take care of them?”
Her glare made him squirm like a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“I can and would go,” Laethan said. “However your mate doesn’t believe I’m as capable a healer.”
“That’s a big, fat lie, and you know it,” Doc declared. “Janice, the reason Laethan can’t go is because there’s some kind of funky magic that if he steps foot on that foundation rock right now, he’ll never be able to leave that town as long as he lives.”
“The Craedenza magick is powerful,” Laethan said. “It can hold you in Glaenshire as easily as me. And you have a mate, whereas I have none. I should be the one to go.”
“I really don’t think the magic will work on me. It seems like we Montana people are immune to the magic in Tenavae. Charles. Wesley. Brian...” He ticked the names off on his fingers. “They’ve all talked about how those magic powers didn’t have any effect on them, whatsoever.”
“Still, it’s too great a risk,” Laethan protested. “I’ll not be missed if I must stay in Glaenshire.”
“That’s clearly not true. You know things about Alora’s... issues... that I could never understand. She needs you.”
Muttering something in angry tones, Laethan looked to Janice, obviously hoping she would take his side.
Janice crossed her arms as she gazed at Doc. “You really don’t think you’ll be affected by this spell and get trapped over there?”
“No, I don’t. But... it could be a beautiful place to retire.” Doc winked to reassure her.
Her eyes rolled about. She was used to his teasing—in fact, she liked it. One of many reasons he’d fallen in love with her.
“Fine. Go. But you be home by ten o’clock. I’m not sleeping alone.”
Doc grinned. “Yes, ma’am!”
**************
Alleraen refused to remain lying down on the healing house bed, satisfied to have his bleeding s
ide wrapped with clean cloth. “My injury is naught but a scratch.”
The man working in the healing house threw up his hands. “Then be on your way. A hundred others await my attention. As if my attention had any value. I don’t know how I let Mera convince me to help, when I have no training.”
Alleraen clapped the tired fellow on the shoulder, hoping to provide encouragement to make up for his lack of cooperation. “You’re doing fine work. With your bandage, my injury feels like new.”
He didn’t lie, for the sword hadn’t penetrated anything vital, merely slicing the skin and some muscle.
The man shook his head, but his chin lifted. “Thank you for that, though I suspect you’re only being kind.”
Moving quietly, Alleraen slid close to the huddled group in the corner of the healing house. Thalaena was conferring with what remained of the Glaenshire leaders, and Alleraen was determined to listen.
The fires were under control—mostly burnt out—leaving a path of destruction behind. The border river had contained the fire on the Isle of Glaenshire, but few homes had escaped damage. On the other hand, the stone and clay walls, of which the majority of homes were constructed, had withstood the flames. So when the smoke cleared, the roofless village still stood, resisting Vindrake as stubbornly as had the Craedenza oath-bound, and with similar results.
Soon, the funeral pyres would add new smoke to the air, but the time for mourning had not yet come. Those oath-bound who still breathed remained on the Craedenza foundation, bound to protect the archives until a full day passed without violence.
At least the injured archivists were no longer languishing without treatment. The Montana healer known as Doc had come through the portal, armed with healing tools from the other realm. Shaking off those attempting to restrain him, he’d marched his way up to the white stone foundation. To the surprise of all who watched, he attended to the wounded, freely coming and going from the Craedenza, with no evident bond.
The healer’s tireless work, however, hadn’t prevented the deaths of many archivists, leaving Glaenshire with a dearth of leaders in the midst of a crisis.
Pretending to straighten the bedding nearby, Alleraen strained to hear their conversation.
