Heidel, her eyes wide with shock, stood beside me as we gathered around Kull in the light of the fairy flowers.
“Is he dead?” she whispered.
“I don’t know.” I fumbled my cell out of my pocket and gave it to her. “Call nine-one-one.”
“Who?”
“Just push the numbers. Tell them we’re at the festival campgrounds and your brother is unconscious. Ask if he can be life-flighted out of here.”
She probably didn’t understand half the words I’d said, but it didn’t matter as long as she relayed the message.
Kull lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his skin so pale it looked gray.
Stupid, stupid, Kull. Why had he let himself get this bad? And what had happened to him in the first place?
“Kull, can you hear me?” I said as I knelt beside him.
He’d covered the wound with strips of white gauze, but the blood had soaked though the bandages. I carefully moved the gauze and found muscle and tendons where his flesh had been sliced open. He’d possibly damaged his brachial artery, and if that were the case, it wasn’t good.
This hadn’t been caused by any thornbush.
Instinctively, I grabbed more clean bandages from a bag near the bed and began wrapping them tightly around the wound. The blood only trickled free, making me hope that I had more time than I thought. Or maybe he’d bled out already.
My hands trembled as I grabbed his wrist to feel for his pulse.
Why was I trembling? From fear? Why did I even care?
Behind me, Heidel yelled at the phone, but I was beginning to believe it was too late for help. I couldn’t find a pulse. Hoping to have better luck, I moved to his other wrist. Still, no pulse.
Finally, I found a very weak pulse in his neck. He was alive, but barely.
The other Wults and fairies watched through the doorway. No one spoke except Heidel, who, after muttering a few unrepeatable words, slammed my phone to the ground, drew her sword, and stabbed it through the screen.
I wanted to be upset, but my emotions were so off the charts I only stared blankly at the ruined piece of technology on the ground.
“The machine was not functioning,” she said. “You must heal him without this cursed device’s help.”
Forcing my mind to stay calm was getting harder to do as I faced her brother. No phone. No outside help. He would die. I knew he would die, yet somehow I still held out hope that I could save him.
I needed a healing spell, but what enchantment could I possibly use that would restore his blood volume? I cursed myself for not learning more healing spells. I’d healed Heidel once, but that was without the need to replace her blood volume. What could I do to help him?
With my fingers still pressed to his neck, I felt the pulse slowly weaken, and I wasn’t sure what to do as I once again applied pressure to the wound through the gauze.
I looked up at the two fairies huddled in the doorway. “Can’t you do something? A healing spell?”
They glanced nervously at me. “There is dark magic in his wound. We cannot touch it.”
“Dark magic?”
I focused my full attention on his wound and found it tainted with a dark power. Why hadn’t I sensed it sooner? How had it gotten there?
“Surely there is something you can do?” I asked the fairies.
Esmelda took a cautious step toward me. “We cannot touch the taint of black magic without our gemstone to absorb the dark power.”
The two Wult men knelt beside me and held a blanket to Kull’s arm.
“Can’t you use your magic?” Brodnik asked me.
“I… I might make him worse.”
“He can’t get too much worse, can he?” Brodnik said.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure.” My mind was in a strange place. It didn’t seem to want to make sense of the world around me, which I was fairly certain gave me a diagnosis of mental instability and made me completely incompetent as a healer.
Without realizing that I’d called it, magic streamed in waves of amber and blue from my fingertips. It enveloped me, filling me with energy, and then encircled Kull.
The magic controlled my movements as I reached for him. The wound in his arm was long and deep. Nothing but surgery would have had the ability to repair the ripped artery, yet as my fingertips touched his skin, the flesh began to knit back together.
Fear filled me momentarily as I watched the process of Kull’s flesh healing. How was I doing this? The magic was working on its own—I wasn’t controlling it. But I kept my hand over the wound until the last bits of torn flesh had re-formed.
When the magic receded, I stumbled back, my heart beating with a wild cadence in my chest. Sweat beaded on my forehead. That shouldn’t have been possible. Magic wasn’t supposed to work independently of the practitioner. Something was wrong with me. Seriously wrong.
Kull inhaled, his face becoming less pale as air filled his lungs.
The two Wults beside me stared at him. Brodnik shook his shoulder gently. “Sir,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
Kull didn’t open his eyes.
“Perhaps we should let him rest,” I said.
“Will he be okay?” Rolf asked.
“I can’t say for sure. But he’ll live for now.”
The sound of someone shouting came from outside the tent, turning our focus to the tent’s front flap.
“Who’s out there?” Esmelda asked her brother.
Terminus shook his head.
“Hello! Is anyone in there?” came a man’s voice.
“I’ll check,” I said, then stood and left Kull behind me.
To be honest, I was thankful for the distraction. Kull’s injury left me with another mystery. Who—or what—had injured him? In my life, I’d only seen one creature take down Kull like that—a Regaymor—a crazy-powerful spirit being from an unknown dimension. Even more troubling, how in the great universe had I healed him?
After crossing through the main room, I stopped by the tent’s opening and moved the flap aside. Jordan Young, also known as Eros the Irresistible, stood outside. Usually he wore Goth makeup, leather pants, and a bare chest, but today, he thankfully wore a black T-shirt and jeans. Minus the makeup, he almost looked normal.
Jordan stood a little shorter than me. Although the rain had died down, his dark hair was damp and smelled of unwashed scalp.
“Hi Olive,” he said with a wink. “Did you miss me?”
I did my best not to roll my eyes. “What do you want, Jordan?”
“I thought you should know they’re reopening in an hour.”
“So soon? Did they finish the investigation already?”
“No idea. But you should probably get your booth set up as soon as you can. The crowd will probably be huge, so you’ll want to do it now rather than wait.” He stared up at the tent. “When did you get this thing set up? I thought you were staying in the trailer.”
“I am. I just… I had some friends stop by.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah, from out of town.”
“Are they performers? I thought only hired crew were allowed to camp back here.”
“Oh, well…”
“Have I met them?” he asked, looking past me.
“No. Not yet. They’re fairies, some of them, and barbarians—very authentic.”
“Why haven’t I met them yet? I know everyone in this place.”
“How could you possibly know everyone?”
He shrugged. “I pay attention. So, why can’t I see them now?”
“They’re a little busy. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll see them soon.”
“Can I come inside?”
Dude, why can’t this guy take a hint?
“I think it would be best for you to go now. I’ll see you back at the festival, okay?”
“All right,” he said and then turned away.
I let the tent flap fall closed and turned to find Princess Esmelda standing behind me.
“Who was it?”
“His name is Jordan Young, although you’ll probably get to know him as Eros the Irresistible.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Irresistible?”
“Yeah, I know. He’s an odd character.”
“How so?”
I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her about him. He was my patient, after all, and there was this thing called doctor-patient confidentiality that I was sworn to abide by. However, because he was my patient, he was now also a suspect in the murder of Mr. Duncan. Maybe the princess could help me determine if he was more than that.
“For one thing,” I said, “he’s been to Faythander. I already performed the first spellcasting, and it confirmed that he’s been there. But he wouldn’t let me perform the second test that would replay his memories.”
“He wouldn’t let you? Do you think perhaps he’s hiding something?”
“It’s quite likely. He wouldn’t have any memories of Faythander, so he may not remember everything, but if he went there with a specific purpose in mind, then he would at least have some knowledge of what went on while he was there.”
“But how would he have gotten there? And how would he have known of Faythander in the first place?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have any answers, and there’s only one way to get them—I’ll have to ask him. He may not like it.”
“But what if he tries to harm you?”
“Then I’ll have to be careful.”
She gave me a pensive glare. “I think it is too risky. You should let the Wults accompany you.”
“No. They would most likely scare him, and then he wouldn’t answer any of my questions.”
“Then take my brother—or me.”
“Esmelda, you don’t understand. He is my patient, and I can’t let anyone be there when I question him. I’d be breaking all sorts of ethical codes, and I doubt he would answer my questions if anyone else were in the room.”
“Then we shall not be in the room,” Heidel said as she emerged from Kull’s chamber. “We will be close if you should need our aid, but we will not interfere.”
“Will you be going to the festival grounds soon?” the princess asked me.
“Yes, I just need to check on something first.” I left the princess and found my way to Kull’s room. Entering that room again was something I had to force myself to do. I had trouble looking at him like that. It came as a bit of a shock, to be honest. He had always been the embodiment of strength and health, and to see him so close to death made me feel sick inside. But if Kull knew anything about the monster that had attacked him, I needed to know.
Heidel followed me inside.
“Has he spoken?” I asked her.
“No.”
I stood beside his cot. He’d always seemed at peace the few times I remembered seeing him asleep, but seeing him now—his eye sockets sunken, the skin around his eyes lined in wrinkles—he hardly resembled the man I remembered.
I could no longer think of this man as Kull. In my mind, Kull was the man I’d come to love, but this was the king of the Wults—of pain and death. King Skullsplitter.
“What happened to him while he was in Faythander? He looks like he’s aged ten years.”
She gave me a sidelong glance. “He blames himself for our father’s passing. It drives him mad that he was not able to save our father. It’s an all-consuming regret that will not let him rest. He never sleeps. He hardly eats. He spends all his time pacing the castle, mumbling to himself, yelling at anyone who crosses him. He’s become bitter and self-absorbed. He is hardly the man he once was. I fear that if he can’t let go of his regret, it will destroy him.”
“But it wasn’t his fault that your father died. Surely he can see that?”
“No. He feels that if he’d found the infiltrator sooner, my father would not have died that day. And he feels that if he…” She bit her lip and looked away from me.
“If he what?”
She took in a deep breath. “If he could have convinced you to heal our father, then Father would still be here.”
Her words struck me. “But the king had already died before I got to him. How could I have healed him?”
She gave me a hard look, her gray eyes set with steely determination. “You should know he blames you in part for our father’s death. I know this isn’t true, but there’s no convincing him otherwise. He has always thought very highly of you, more so than you realize. To him, your powers were without equal. In his mind, it should have been a simple task for you to save Father.”
I didn’t know how to answer. My mind tried to grasp her words but failed. What had caused him to believe I was powerful enough to restore life to the dead? It was ludicrous on all sorts of levels.
“That’s why he’s turned bitter,” Heidel said, “because he’s lost his father, and he has lost you. If it weren’t for his travels to the Northland keep, he would have succumbed to madness.”
The Northland keep. Ket, the beautiful Viking swordswoman who complimented Kull in every way possible, lived there. She made a better match for him. I’d known it since the first day I’d met her, yet I’d never wanted to admit it. Ket was Wult, and Kull’s father had favored her. Kull would be wise to choose her as a wife. Perhaps he already had.
Outside the room I heard footsteps, and the princess moved the vines away to peek inside.
“Are you ready?”
“Almost,” I answered. I found the ruined pieces of my phone on the ground, picked them up, and inspected the shattered bits. Nothing salvageable remained. I eyed Heidel as I placed the pieces in my pocket.
“The device was possessed,” was her only explanation.
I left the room with my ruined phone in my pocket, the fairies’ ring on my finger, and a heart that had broken all over again.