Page 5 of The Elven Healer's Apprentice

“You best stay in here.”

She produced a key and used it to unlock the door. Glancing both ways to be sure no one lingered, she opened the door and pushed me through. With a deft movement, she followed me inside and eased the door nearly closed.

The intense scents of hundreds of plants invaded my nose. Beneath them lingered the smell of sickness and sweat.

“I will lock you inside, so they won’t suspect anything. Meanwhile, I will search out a pull cart, and you can prepare her to leave.” She motioned into the dimness in the general direction of the back wall.

“Won’t they object to me hauling a woman out of here?”

She shrugged slightly. “Tell them she is dead, and there is plague. They will send you out through the gate readily enough.” She paused for a moment as though listening. “I must go. The guards will make their rounds soon. Be quiet and they will leave you alone.”

With that warning, she slipped out into the corridor and closed the door. The lock clicked, and I was left a dim room with a possible corpse.

Letting out a soft groan, I began exploring my new environs. A dying fire burned in a humble brazier in the center of the room. I crossed the uneven stone floor to touch the wall. My fingertips brushed rough stucco. When I took a step toward where I suspected the bed lay, I struck my toe hard against an object that fell clattering to the floor. Then something brushed my hair, setting my heart to racing. I ducked. Visions of bats or spider webs jumped to mind.

Giving up my usual policy of not using flashy magic around humans, I muttered the spell for light. A glow manifested above my head, but not as brightly as I expected. Glancing up, I discovered what had brushed my hair. The ball of light summoned by my spell nestled in among rows upon rows of drying herbs. They covered the ceiling in neat hanging bunches so that I needed to duck to avoid them.

“Well, at least I know she isn’t tall,” I muttered to myself. Anything to break the unnatural stillness of the room. I hated windowless rooms. They were so unhealthy, trapping one in with the disease and decay that inevitably followed when there was no air movement.

Then I spotted the bed—a thin, narrow pallet placed on the cold floor against the far wall. Avoiding the brazier, I sidestepped a low stool, a pail of stagnant water, and a shallow work basket full of more herbs. By the looks of it, the woman had fallen ill mid-work.

As I approached, I noted a mass of brown hair. Curls and frizziness dominated the place where her head should’ve been. Only when I pulled back the thin blanket that covered her form did I realize she was lying on her stomach with her face turned toward the wall. After kneeling next to her, I threaded my fingersthrough the tresses covering her features until I found her forehead. Accessing my magic while simultaneously checking her temperature, I was not prepared for the sudden onslaught of sensations and smells.

The scent of every herb in the room increased tenfold and that my breath caught. With the smells came a strange sensation of connection. I withdrew my fingers and the connection abruptly cut off. Intrigued, I brushed her forehead again. The sense of connection flickered. Strange.

Deciding to ignore it, I began my usual assessment of a new patient. Her temperature remained only slightly elevated, mouth parched, and the scent of dried sweat only slightly detectable through the overwhelming herbs. She gave all the outward signs of healing. My access to magic allowed me to examine her internal workings, this time only visually. I was pleased to see reassuring signs that her body was successfully fighting off the virus.

“Two to three days of hydration, rest, and good food will put you back on your feet,” I told her. None of which she would receive in this dungeon.

She didn’t even stir. I smirked. Usually, my patients were more animated.

“Now, what do you wish to bring with you to my place?” I scanned the room. Where would she have kept her valuables? In a place like this, the answer was definitely nowhere out in the open. I wouldn’t trust these people with my clothing let alone a valuable possession.

I walked around the space—testing stones, poking in cracks—and I found nothing. “I am not coming back for your treasures,” I informed her.

Then it occurred to me that she might not have any.

There was a click of the lock being undone.

“Psst, are you ready?” The matron had returned.

I knelt long enough to pick up the woman on the pallet. She was a light burden, thin blanket and all. After navigating the space with care, I reached the door. Muttering the spell to extinguish the light, I tapped on the door to signal our readiness. It swung open. I slipped through while ducking to avoid striking my head and taking great care with the woman in my arms.

The matronly human moved quickly for one with such short legs. We wound through corridors and out through a recessed door into a back courtyard full of farm animals and a few men who appeared to be the animals’ caretakers. The woman motioned for me to inspect a small hand- drawn cart sitting tucked behind the corner of a building.

“Will it serve?” she asked urgently.

Settling the woman in my arms into the cart, I wrapped the thin blanket over her, covering her face. A quick inspection of the wheels and hand bars found the cart workable if crude. As I guided the cart out from behind the building, I noticed one wheel wobbled, but I didn’t comment. It would transport my patient through the gate and most of the way back to Eldarlan. That was what mattered.

The woman led the way toward the back gate. Narrower than the front opening, one man guarded this entrance, whom the woman immediately distracted. She burst into a retelling of the events since I arrived, motioning for me to take the cart out the open gate, which I happily did.

Once through the gate and over the first rise in the road, I breathed a sigh of relief. I waited until we neared the river before I dared pause and check on my patient. Stopping the vehicle under the heavy boughs of a pine, I rested the rods on the ground, which set the whole cart at an awkward slant. I touched my healing magic as I pulled the blanket away from her face. Her vitals registered stable; her features were pale with no trace of fever to my touch. Again, the sensation of connection manifestedthe moment my fingertips brushed her skin. Accompanying the odd sensation came a heightened sense of smell. Strange.

Something for me to investigate later. I scanned the sky. Night was falling fast, and I needed to get back across the river quickly.

Hefting the woman into my arms again, I settled her so her face rested against my chest. I wrapped her tightly so that even if she woke, she wouldn’t be able to wriggle free. I also took care to not leave any exposed skin, tucking in the edges of the cloth. I dared not risk brushing her and being distracted in the middle of a spell. Once certain I had prepared adequately, I strode toward the river, leaving the cart behind. Even if we were tracked, only a fool would dare attack an elf within their own borders.

Eldarlan was guarded by magic, both natural and imbued, which was supported by the movement of the water surrounding three of its borders. The magic barrier to the north, cutting through the mountains from the river source in the east and the ocean to the west, was a spell of a completely unique nature. The king and his connection to the land maintained the wards Crossing the border didn’t require a personal petition, the king only handed the key to the spell to those who traveled through it.

---