Page 10 of Kingdom of Lies

"What do I do?" I ask Mathilde, the feeling of defeat threatens to spill from my eyes.

Mathilde's expression is grave as she meets my eyes. "I'm afraid there's little we can do without elvish medicine. Your grandmother has lost too much blood." She sighs heavily, her shoulders slumping.

My heart drops into my stomach like a stone. I look at my grandmother's still form, her skin ashen, the ugly gash on her head now neatly stitched but still angry and red. She looks small and frail there on the floor, a far cry from the lively woman who raised me.

"But we have to do something!" I cry, hot tears spilling down my cheeks.

Mathilde sighs again. "Without the proper medicine, even the most skilled human doctor would be of little use. Her injuries are too severe." She gestures helplessly to my grandmother. "I'm afraid she may only have a few days left at most."

I shake my head vehemently. "No. No, I can't just let her die!" I run my hands through my hair, mind racing. There has to be something, some way, to save her.

Without thinking, I rush out the door and sprint out of the house. I arrive breathless at the chief's home hoping he will have a solution. I pound desperately on the carved wooden door.

"Please, I need help! It's an emergency!" I call, but none comes. My plight seems hopeless as I slump to the ground.

My fear for my grandma and fear of being ignored mix together in a desperation I've never before experienced.

After what feels like an eternity, the door swings open, and the chief's wife regards me sternly. "What is the meaning of this disruption?" she demands.

She holds a whip in her hand, and I cringe at her harsh look. My voice is ragged as I plead my case, tears streaming down my face. My heart races as I try to catch my breath. "Please, I need your help."

The woman raises a brow and steps closer, examining me closely before crossing her arms over her chest.

I fall to my knees before her, words spilling out in a torrent. "Please, my grandmother is hurt. She's unconscious and bleeding."

The chief's wife looks down upon with disgust, her nose scrunches, and her mouth sets in a disapproving grimace. She idly swings the whip, making me flinch at every flick that zips across my vision.

"Our healer says only elvish medicine can save her now. I beg you, does the chief have access to such medicine? I will do anything to obtain it, anything at all." I try again, begging this woman to find it within herself to offer me some kind of assistance.

The chief's wife looks at me with an intimidating kind of hatred, threateningly toying with the whip in her hand.

"Please," I sob.

She regards me coldly. "Groveling will get you nowhere, girl," she sneers. "The chief does not waste elvish medicine on peasants."

I look up at her, desperation in my eyes. "Please, I'm begging you. My grandmother raised me, she's the only family I have left."

The woman scoffs. "What do I care about your sniveling grandmother? Begone from here before I take this whip to you!"

Tears stream down my face as I cower. The chief's wife glares at me, whip poised to strike.

"Please," I cry again, desperation floods my voice.

"I warned you," she snarls.

The whip comes down slashing through my hands. The pain stings as my skin is cracked open with a second lashing. She cracks the whip through the air again.

It feels like fire lashing against my already battered skin. With each crack comes another wave of agony - this time burning pain on top of everything else.

The chief suddenly appears in the doorway, likely drawn outside from my sobs.

"That's enough," the chief says firmly, stepping between me and his wife. She scowls but lowers the whip.

The chief regards me with exasperation. "We cannot help you, child. The elves do not share their medicines, not even with us."

I stare up at him, stunned. "But you're the chief! Can't you ask them, plead with them to make an exception?"

He shakes his head. "The elves care little for our human troubles. Even if I begged, they would not bend."

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