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Tait’s skin deepened to a heated red.
“We need to remove the blade,” Larsson said. “It’s too near the spine.”
“He’ll bleed too swiftly,” Tait insisted. “Send for the boneweavers in the vales. We will tend to it until they—”
“I can help.” I blinked, stunned to realize the words had come from me. But now that they were there, I lifted my chin in a show of determination. “I’m bonded with the king. He takes properties of my fury, wouldn’t I take properties of his?”
“She knows he doesn’t need a tree, doesn’t she?” Celine muttered to Larsson.
My cheeks warmed. “Not earth fury, his . . . healing blood.”
No one spoke for a moment, until Erik grunted. “No.”
I ignored him and implored Tait. “I can help him.”
“You do not have the voice of the sea, Lady,” Larsson offered, but his head tilted with a bit of curiosity. “Perhaps your blood might poison him.”
Ulterior motives, Songbird?
I pointed my glare at Erik. His brow was coated in sweat, and he tried to grin at his own tasteless sense of humor.
You die, then you take my heart to the Otherworld. Feel that,Serpent.
Erik’s eyes darkened against the furrow to his brow. When I tightened my hold around his shoulders, one of his hands gripped my wrist, squeezing gently.
“He can help me,” I whispered. “His blood does not heal himself, but what if mine can should he sing?”
“We’re running short on time, then.” Larsson shoved his hands in his pockets. “I say give the woman a chance. Might be the only way to deal with the king.”
“No.” Tait shook his head. “There’s too much risk.”
“Fine, if it doesn’t work, then I’ll use my earth fury.”
“Again, the king needs a boneweaver, not a shrub,” Celine insisted.
“My magic connects to the properties of each plant,” I said. “Are your boneweaving herbs not plants? I might be able to sense those that can heal him.”
“Erik’s blood is different, earth fae,” Tait snapped. “His blood is not only poisonous, it thins too quickly. Bleeds too much.”
“Tell her all my weak . . . weaknesses, cousin.”
Damn fool. I glared at Erik. I hoped he sensed that thought. If his smirk was any clue, I guessed he did.
“And he’s bleeding too much now.” Larsson removed his hat and scratched his sweaty head. “Let her try.”
“You’re mad.” Tait scoffed. “You think I’d let her put hands on my king under the guise that she’s healing him?”
I gestured to Bloodsinger’s wound. “Do you have a choice?”
“No,” Erik warned. “It’s too . . . great a risk.”
Tait ignored him and glared at me. In the next breath, he had one palm covering my face. I let out a muffled shout, but broke it off soon enough. Tait wasn’t attacking, he was . . . doing something else.
A slow, gentle hum rolled over his tongue. Tait had a beautiful voice, and the more he sang, the more warmth coated his palm and bled into my skin, and in the next breath it was over.
Tait wrenched his hand away. He flicked his gaze to Erik, then to the guards. “Bring her whatever stores of medicinal herbs we have, and get the king into the room.”
CHAPTER40
