Page 134 of Elven Crown

When the healer hunkered down and ripped the extruding bit of shrapnel free, Rebecca screamed.

She didn’t hold anything back.

She couldn’t.

She wasn’t even strong enough anymore to maintain consciousness another second.

When she woke, the first thing racing through Rebecca’s mind was how unequivocally today just hadn’t been her day.

The next thing she realized was that the infirmary was entirely empty, the lights dimmed to a comfortably nocturnal level but not switched off entirely.

She lay perfectly still in the infirmary bed for several minutes, her eyes closed as she listened in the semi-darkness for sounds of movement either in this main recovery ward or in the room behind the infirmary’s rear door, which she was fairly certain led to a combination of Zida’s personal quarters doubling as a backup storage closet.

Nothing.

Not even footsteps or low voices murmuring out in the hallway as they sometimes did in the compound’s residential wing.

She expected to hear the old healer snoring somewhere in the next room, at the very least, but even that was missing.

Rebecca was truly alone.

After another quick look around and an inventory of what she had at her disposal, it seemed the healer had stayed true to her word. There was no sign of anyone else having entered, hinting at Zida having turned away potential visitors.

There was no way Maxwell hadn’t heard her screaming before she’d passed out. Knowing him, he’d probably posted up right there in the hallway.

The thought of him threatening the old healer with death and dismemberment if she’d harmed the Thon-Da’al brought a tired, albeit macabre, smile to Rebecca’s lips.

That was exactly what he would have done. Even then, in true Zida fashion, the healer had protected her patient’s isolation and recovery as fiercely as a mother bear protecting her cubs.

Rebecca would be hearing all about that later too, she was sure.

But now that she was up and the wooden stake was nowhere to be seen, she didn’t see any reason to stay put.

Especially when the heavy leather straps had since been unfastened and put away while she was out.

She hoped that was the only thing that had changed. Under different circumstances, she would have kicked herself for succumbing to the pain and losing consciousness.

After the alarming surprise of discovery Zida had more sensitive information about her than anyone had the right to possess, Rebecca hadn’t been prepared to handle the agony, and she’d lost that battle.

Plus, the healer hadn’t been lying when she’d said Rebecca was half-dead already coming into the infirmary.

Not anymore.

So there was nothing to keep her here.

The first thing she did was heal the rest of the damage to her belly. It was simple and easy, all things considered, now that she had the freedom to move again.

And the presence of mind to grab one of the unused leather straps first, fold it in half, and shove it between her teeth before she hovered both hands over the more-or-less gaping hole in her belly.

Deep golden-orange light bloomed beneath her palms and flared across that hole, her Bloodshadow magic burning away the wound, searing it all into curling, jagged, charred black flesh before it peeled away from her exposed belly to leave nothing but healthy pink and a fully healed wound in its place.

Complete with the tiniest mark of a darker pink, puckered scar—inevitable after a wound like that.

Once she finished, Rebecca let the leather strap drop from between her teeth as she panted, caught her breath, and thought about what to do next.

It was a hell of a lot easier to think without the pain.

She didn’t want to stay in the infirmary a second longer, and she didn’tneedto—whether or not Zida had officially released her.

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