Death Wind (Elven Alliance #3) - Tara Grayce Page 0,94

Farrendel was shaking his head, his eyes cracked open to slits. “My...choice...Essie...” he gasped, his gaze meeting hers.

His choice. That had been what he’d told her on the train when they’d been captured. He’d wanted the choice to sacrifice to be his, this time.

“The stone is too deep.” The healer’s tone was gentle, even though he was stabbing Essie’s heart. “The attempt would likely kill both of you.”

“My choice...” Farrendel gritted out again, his gaze still locked on hers.

He didn’t want her to risk herself for him. Perhaps it was her life and her choice to make, but it was also Farrendel’s choice to refuse her help. He wouldn’t want to kill her along with himself.

Then what could they do? Essie wasn’t just going to stand there and watch Farrendel die. Not after how far she’d come to get him back. Not when they had just barely begun to experience happiness together.

If neither the Escarlish surgeon nor the elven healer could remove the troll-magic laced stone killing Farrendel, then there was only one answer. A troll had to remove it. After all, the trolls had put it there. It made sense that only a troll could take it out.

How would they find a troll willing to save the life of the trolls’ most feared enemy? And a troll they could trust enough to help Farrendel and not hurt him further?

She met Edmund’s gaze across the room and motioned. He said something to Jalissa, then eased her away from him. After he hurried across the tent, he halted by Essie.

The healer and the surgeon had begun another discussion with Weylind listening.

Essie leaned closer to Edmund and whispered, “Fetch Averett. Make sure he bring the troll prince.”

Edmund searched her face, then nodded. “Right.”

As Edmund left the tent, the Escarlish surgeon motioned to Farrendel. “We should give him something to make him comfortable. Thanks to your elven magic, we have more than enough morphine to spare.”

“Morphine.” The elven healer’s nose wrinkled for a moment before he sighed. “I suppose such methods are the only means left at our disposal.”

At least he’d left out the word primitive, even though it was still implied.

The surgeon stepped away and disappeared into a curtained-off section. Essie caught a brief glimpse of crates. That must be the supply closet, if a tent could have a closet.

Weylind turned to the healer. “Are you absolutely sure there is nothing that can be done?”

The healer sighed and shook his head. “If there was something I could do, I would. We should let Maxwell make him comfortable. It may be some time before...” The healer trailed off, as if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

If the trolls couldn’t help Farrendel, if this was it, Essie wanted to hold Farrendel’s hand. She didn’t want to let him go.

But she wasn’t sure what the heart bond would do if she touched him. She had to wait and save her strength in case it was needed.

The surgeon returned, trailed by a nurse holding a tray with a glass hypodermic needle partially filled with a clear liquid, a glass bottle, and a few wads of bandages. The surgeon splashed one of the cotton cloths with the liquid in the bottle, an alcohol based on the smell. Essie remembered the process from the inoculations she had received as a child.

When the surgeon swabbed the inside of Farrendel’s elbow, Farrendel started and tensed. His eyes flew open, and he focused on the surgeon.

The surgeon picked up the hypodermic needle, held it, and flicked it with a finger several times to make sure there were no air bubbles.

Farrendel’s breathing grew more rapid, his muscles rigid.

“It’s all right. I’ve had inoculations before. It will be fine.” Essie rested her hand next to Farrendel’s head, though she didn’t touch him.

“It’s just a quick pinch.” The surgeon lowered the hypodermic needle and bent over Farrendel.

Farrendel’s eyes remained wide. When the surgeon reached for Farrendel’s arm, blue magic sparked around his fingers.

“Get back.” The elf healer threw an arm around the surgeon’s chest and pulled him back.

“Farrendel.” This time, Essie didn’t hesitate. She rested a hand on Farrendel’s cheek, feeling the sweaty warmth to his skin. For a brief second, the heart bond connected, and she gasped as pain shot through her chest.

Then Farrendel placed that iron wall between them, though it wasn’t as solid as it was when they were apart. She could still sense his emotions, taste a portion of his pain, though her body wasn’t trying to