“You need a healer,” the large woman said, pounding a fist against one of the bedposts. “I’ll send two of the girls to the temple.”
“No.” Killian’s voice was weak but adamant. “The deimos aren’t normal beasts, Bercola. They’ll be watching this house, and I’ll not have anyone risk their lives by leaving it.”
“It’s their job to risk their lives!”
He shook his head. “For Malahi, not for me.”
“Then let me go. You are my responsibility.”
“Bercola, I said no,” he said. “Even if you made it to the temple, Quindor wouldn’t allow any of his healers to go out into the night. Not for me. You’ll have to wait until dawn.”
“Dawn will be too late.”
“We’ll see about that.” He turned his head and caught sight of Lydia standing in the doorway. His face was ashen except for the smear of blood across one cheek, but he still managed a crooked smile. “Not a damsel in distress, after all.”
Pretending she didn’t see Bercola’s glare, Lydia made her way to the side of the bed. “That’s kind of you to say.” She tried to smile while taking in all the blood. “My confidence has taken quite a beating lately, and your gratitude has bolstered it immensely.”
He laughed and then ground his teeth. “Gods, that hurts.”
“Apologies.” Lydia glanced nervously at the woman looming over her.
“Leave her alone, Bercola,” Killian said. “Better yet, go make sure no one is thinking of doing anything stupid.”
A thousand arguments were written across the enormous woman’s face, but she only shook her head and left.
With the aid of a monocle, Garrem had finally managed to thread a needle and set to stitching up Killian’s shoulder. “Your field dressing skills have not improved, I see,” Killian said through clenched teeth.
The old man sniffed and bent lower over the injury, which had already soaked the sheets with blood.
As he winced, Killian’s gaze shifted back to Lydia. “I don’t even know your name.”
Garrem stopped his stitching. “Lord Calorian! That’s appalling, even for you.”
“It isn’t like that,” they both said at the same time.
The old man eyed Lydia, grunted, and then returned to his work, which Lydia watched with fascination. She’d never seen an injury so severe before, and she mentally catalogued how the old man drew the bleeding muscle together, the type of stitch he used, and how swiftly the bandages soaked with blood. Killian winced with each pass of the needle, but he never once cried out.
“Are you going to tell me your name or do I have to guess?”
The question dragged her attention from the injury back to his face. “It’s Lydia.”
“Unusual name.”
It wasn’t. Not in the Empire. “I’m from somewhere else.”
“Should’ve stayed.” His jaw clenched again, and to her surprise, he grabbed hold of her hand. His fingers were like ice. Then he sighed, eyelids slipping closed and fingers going limp in hers.
“Blast!” Garrem rose swiftly to his feet. “This is for naught—he won’t last another hour much less the night without a healer. I’m going to find Bercola to see what can be done. Try to rouse him, if you can.” Then he shuffled out of the room, leaving her alone with Killian.
“My … lord.” She stumbled on the unfamiliar honorific, then gently shook his arm when he didn’t respond. “My lord, you must wake up.” His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t move. “Killian, please!”
“Poor boy is in a bad state.”
Lydia’s head snapped up so fast her neck cracked. A stooped woman with wrinkles layered on top of wrinkles stood on the opposite side of the bed, seemingly having appeared from nowhere. She wore a brown dress, and a long white braid hung down her back. “Who are you?” Lydia demanded, glancing over her shoulder to find the door still closed. “Are you a physician … a healer?”
The woman chuckled and rested a hand against Killian’s forehead, stroking back his hair fondly. “Not as such, Lydia.”
“How do you know my name?”
“I haven’t seen you in a very long time,” the woman said, clasping her hands in front of her. “Only my sister sees clearly through the haze of the East, and she is rarely forthcoming. Though it is her I must thank for bringing you back.”
“Who are you?” Lydia demanded again. “What do you know of Celendor?”
The woman grimaced. “More and less than I would like. However, that is a distant threat for another day. I’m afraid we’ve more pressing concerns, my dearest girl. This boy was chosen years ago, and my brother does not wish to