Page 21 of The Elven Healer's Apprentice

“Ah, the tyrant.” She nodded in understanding before holding out her hand for the empty feed pail. “Are you going to put that away, or shall I?”

“I will. I promise I will return this time.”

She lifted her eyebrows at me. “What does Sina say about your promise to return?”

I snorted. “She said she will believe it when she sees it.”

A smile brightened Adela’s eyes for a moment before she sobered. “And the patients?”

“You can tell them whatever you wish.”

“You are letting me oversee their care?”

I nodded, leading the way to the storage building where the feed was stored. “If you encounter an issue that cannot wait, summon a shadow elf and send a message to me.”

“Understood.”

Then I left her at the storage building’s door with the pail as I went to track down Lippin. I needed to leave, or I would be late for Emrys’ deadline. Despite this, I intended to make sure that Adela never fed the chimera again.

∞∞∞

Adela

The compound grew strangely still and quiet without Merlon’smagic-infused presence. The flow of patients followed the normal course it had before he returned from the curse. Instead of summoning him when I encountered a case needing magical attention, I took copious notes, offered what help I was able to, and then sent the patient on his or her way. Thankfully, those instances were few.

Despite the elf healer’s absence, his strong opinions were still in evidence. He had banned me from feeding the chimera. Lippin insisted on picking up half of my animal caretaking tasks. When I protested, he tossed his horns and grunted. I had to chase him down for an explanation.

“Take it up with Merlon if you don’t like it,” Lippin bleated as he came to a halt outside the Sage’s barn. “He has some bee in his ear about you not being in danger. Doesn’t care about my limbs, however, not at all.” He rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows chimeras hunt fauns, not humans. That creature is more likely to take a bite out of me than you.”

“So, Merlon ordered it?”

“Why else would I be doing it?” Lippin retorted before turning away. Then he stopped in the path to confront me again, waving a half-full pail of chimera feed. “No. Ordered isn’t the right word. He threatened to expel me from the compound without pay if I let you near the creature again.” He snorted. “As if it would do anything more than singe your skirts. Besides, if the monster did anything to you, Merlon could fix you up right as rain without a bit of effort.” His eyes widened. “He is just lazy. That is what he is.” Swinging around on his goat-like back legs, he trotted off toward the habitats and enclosures of Merlon’s more dangerous charges. “You can tell him I said so!” he called over his shoulder, tail high and proud.

Merlon cared. A single glance around his home and the evidence lay everywhere. From the injured, maimed, and scarred inhabitants—both aggressive and docile—to his open-door policy about all patients, no matter their background or species, were accepted. He clearly cared about others, despite his blunt and often curt demeanor. But the fact he cared about me specifically struck me as unusual. After all, I was the annoyance, the unwanted human.

Days waxed and waned until the evening of the seventh day since Merlon’s leaving. My last patients—a sniffling troll-child and his mother—left on foot, since they lived only a few miles south of the compound. After setting the infirmary to rights, I perched on a stool and scribbled the details of the visit in the logbook for Merlon’s perusal later. I was only sorry I couldn’t have done more for the child. Still, his illness wasn’t severe or likely to harm him. Healing would come with time and rest.

As I wrote, the light on the page dimmed. Lifting my attention, I reached to adjust the lamp I had lit before beginning my work, but it still burned. Wisps of darkness curled around my wrist, caressing my fingers and obscuring the light. The cold sensation of shadow magic announced I was not alone.

“Where is Merlon?” a deep voice asked from behind me.

I turned to find Casimir standing in a cloud of curling tendrils of shadow magic. Peering past the intimidating presence of his size and the sheer power that seemed to radiate from him, I instantly sensed something was wrong. He appeared lethal. “What is wrong?”

He simply glared at me. No humor lingered in his silver-green eyes this evening.

Responding to his silent impatience, I answered his question. “Merlon is not here. He answered the king’s summons a week past. I expect him home any—”

“He left the palace this morn.” A soft grunt of frustration sounded in the back of the shadow elf’s throat before he turned and locked gazes with me. “Finding him will take time. Veta needs help now.”

“What is the problem?” I asked again.

“She is in labor.”

I glanced at the elven calendar. “It is too soon.” Dangerously so. Elf or not, babies needed enough time to develop in the womb. Birth now might endanger both child—no, children—and mother.

“You will come?” he asked.

I glanced at the male looming over me, filling the room with curls of darkness such that the space was almost as dark as night despite the sun still being above the horizon. It was strangely telling that he had made a request and not a demand. The desperation in the elf’s eyes tore at my heart.

---