Page 9 of Kingdom of Lies

I shake it off with a hollow sigh.

We'll never cross paths again.

5

KATHLEEN

The sun has already set by the time I get home, and I've begun to fret about my grandmother. The last thing I want is for her to have been worrying about me.

As it is, that is probably unavoidable at this point. It’s late, my clothes are incredibly dirty. One look at me, and she’s going to fret.

I let myself into the home we share, expecting to find grandmother waiting, but a quick glance shows me she's nowhere to be found. My heart quickens in pace as I try to swallow the swells of panic rising into my throat.

“Gran?”

Where could she be?

My palms feel clammy, and my mouth is dry. I quickly wonder if she might have gone to look for me, but that's unlikely as she has problems walking.

"Grandmother?" I call out timidly again. Fear threatens to claw its way from my chest.

Another look around the room has my heart sinking, a swooping panic dips to the bottom of my stomach, I see feet sticking out around the corner to the hall.

"Grandmother!" I shriek, fear threatening to consume me as I run to where she rests on the floor, motionless.

I grab her hand, but she is cool to the touch. She's still breathing, but her breaths are shallow. There is a large wound on her head, and blood is pooling onto the floor around her in a sickening puddle. Quickly, I run out of the house.

“Help!”

The wind is sharp and bitter, stinging my eyes as I sprint barefoot in the dirt. My grandmother's blood has dried on my hands. It feels like a heavy weight that I can't shake. I had no idea what to expect when I found her, but this is beyond anything I could have imagined.

I rush into Mathilde's home, praying she's there. The door creaks open slowly, and I am met with familiar scents of lavender and baking bread. Mathilde stands there, her brow furrowed with concern. "Kathleen, what’s happened?"

Her kind eyes take in my dirtied and disheveled state. Her eyes widen at the sight of the blood on my hands.

"Kathleen?" she asks, fear rising in her voice as she dries her hands on her apron.

I gasp for air, my chest heaving from the exertion of running. "Grandmother... she's hurt." The words tumble out in a frantic rush. "I found her unconscious when I got home. She has a big wound on her head, and she isn't waking up."

"Let me grab my bag," she says, hurriedly disappearing down the hallway.

When she returns, Mathilde grabs my arm gently but firmly, and follows me outside back to my house. Mathilde is friends with my grandmother, her only friend, actually. She has a bit of medical knowledge and knows first aid. I'm hoping her knowledge is enough to help my grandmother.

Mathilde follows me back to my grandmother's house, her healer's bag clasped tightly in her hands. As we rush inside, I lead her to where my grandmother still lies unconscious on the floor.

Mathilde's breath hitches when she sees the severity of the wound on grandmother's head, but she steels herself and gets to work examining her.

"This looks bad," Mathilde says grimly. "She's lost a lot of blood. I'll need to stitch up the gash, but even then, there may be damage beneath the surface that my basic skills can't fix."

She rummages through her bag, pulling out needles, thread, and various vials of liquid. As she begins cleaning and closing the wound, I pace anxiously.

"Is there anything you can give her for the pain and swelling?" I ask. I have a frenetic need to help and can't stop pacing and wringing my hands.

Mathilde shakes her head. "My usual remedies won't be enough for a wound like this. She needs dark elf medicine, something like a healing potion,"

I look at my grandma, the panic tightens in my chest. Her skin is pale, and she's been cleaned of the blood, but she's still asleep. From what Mathilde is saying, without dark elf magic, she’s likely to stay that way.

How am I supposed to find dark elf potions? And what do I do to feed her. My stomach clenches at the sight of her. She looks so close to death. My mind wanders to the elf in the forest.

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