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I accepted and drank the bitter elixir, grimacing at the taste.
“I am sorry. There is nothing to wash it down with.”
I nodded to indicate that I understood. “As long as it works, that is all that matters.” Leaning against his supporting arm, I closed my eyes. “Thank you.”
“For the elixir?”
“That and your friendship. It has been so long since I had a friend.”
A sudden tensing in his arm signaled some kind of emotional response, but when I opened my eyes to assess his expression, I was interrupted by the arrival of two elves.
A shadow elf escorting a light elf stepped out of a shadow slightly down the path from us. Both of them bowed deeply to Emrys before straightening to wait for his acknowledgment. The formality of their actions made me suddenly realize how casually I had been interacting with the king of a realm a dozen times larger than my brother’s. An uneasy sensation settled over me. Had I offended him by calling him my friend?
Emrys drew away slightly. His large hand settled against the middle of my back, warming me and reassuring me he wasn’t so offended that he would reject me.
He indicated the pair could speak. The flurry of hand motions from the light elf, accompanied by his clear distress, made concern settle in my gut.
“Send for the healer immediately.” Emrys’ sharp retort made the elf pale.
A quick gesture from one of the pair seemed to indicate he had already done that. The elves bowed and disappeared into the darkness.
“What was that about?” I asked once they were gone.
Emrys’ arms came around me. “We have to go. Marilla has collapsed. Bring the blanket,” he instructed as I dropped it and the books to the ground. “She might need it.” Then, before I could respond, he pulled me into the strangely flickering world of wraithwalking.
We stepped out into the hedgerow where Marilla enjoyed spending her evenings. The stately woman no longer sat on her bench. Instead, she lay prone on the ground. Her face was strangely still and aged now that it was no longer animated by her quick wit and wry expressions. Emrys left me at her side as he turned to speak with an arriving light elf.
I dropped to Marilla’s side, claiming her hand. Softly calling her name, I stroked the smooth skin of her icy fingers. Remembering the blanket, I reached behind me and dragged it from where I had dropped it when we arrived. I spread it over her body before tucking it around her feet and tugging it up over her chest. Her unnatural stillness scared me. As soon as she was covered, I sought and found her pulse at her wrist. Steady and even, unlike mine had been only a few moments ago, it offered some hope.
“Emrys?” I looked over my shoulder toward where he was having a silent conversation with another elf. He paused his gestures and turned to me. “Might an elixir like the one you give me help?”
“I dare not. Unlike in your case, we don’t know the cause of her collapse. The healer will be here in a moment. He will help.”
Just then, an elf with white hair ran around the corner of the hedgerow. Wild-eyed and disheveled, he looked very unprofessional, but his expression and the manner in which he told Emrys off in a few sharp motions gave me hope that he was the healer.
“This was how they found her. We have done nothing but made her comfortable and ensured she is warm.” Emrys addressed the newcomer as though the elf had done nothing wrong, but I was convinced that some of his gestures had been rude.
The elf turned to assess me and Marilla. Offering me a sharp nod, the healer motioned for me to move away from Marilla’s side.
“I would rather not. One should have a friend when facing a strange healer. I will stay out of your way.”
The elf’s eyebrows rose. He made a growling noise in his throat.
“Accept it,” Emrys ordered.
The healer snorted before kneeling next to Marilla’s other side and beginning to work. In response to his motions, the air around us burst into a net of tingles. The elf focused intently on Marilla with occasional glances my way.
Emrys crouched down next to me. “His name is Merlon. He is my cousin, my personal healer, and my friend. You can trust him.”
“Why didn’t he wraithwalk here?”
Merlon snorted.
“He doesn’t like the sensation. Something about it being madness inducing.” Emrys’ voice was edged in humor. “He only accepts a shadow elf’s escort through the shadow realms under great duress.”
The healer made a few abrupt gestures in our direction.
“He calls us wraithwalkers mad for testing fate constantly.”
