Page 72 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“Like this?” Elara created a cooling gel and layered it on Tripp’s open wounds, keeping her arms spread to encompass the width and length of his torso.

“Perfect. Do you think you can maintain that until he’s healed?”

“I can try.”

Brelenia narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something. After a second’s pause, she nodded. “Do your best, please.”

“Why is my water nymph magic so important to his healing? Isn’t your power stronger?”

“I understand that Enguerrand and Hermes brought you to Storm Bringer’s Bay, yes?”

“Yes,” Elara said, watching her closely for any sign of displeasure.

“And your fever was helped by the Storm Bringer’s magical water, yes?”

“Uh-huh.”

Brelenia was making a point and wouldn’t be hurried. “Water nymphs, such as the two of you, possess a far greater ability to heal. Water is life.”

“I still don’t get it. I’m sorry.”

“Your parents will get a piece of my mind if ever they return here. It’s shameful they denied you the proper tutelage.”

The Goddess huffed out a breath when Elara said she was sorry again. Waving off a third apology, Brelenia continued her explanation. “The brain and heart are comprised of roughly seventy-three percent water, while the lungs are higher, at eighty-three percent. Each organ demands its fair share. Even bones require water.” She gestured to the closing wounds. “The poison was acidic. And do you know what neutralizes acid?”

“Water.”

“Precisely. Water is life. It is healing. Without it, we would all die.”

Elara nodded. “Is that why the volcano issue is such a big deal? Because the heat, flames, and lava flow will dissolve and evaporate the mountain’s snow and suck the moisture from the air?”

“Partially. It’s the ash and lack of oxygen that will kill the people here.”

“Yes. Butyoucan stop it, right?”

“No, dear.Youcan.”

“I don’t know how,” Elara admitted, feeling stupid and miserable for her part in the threat to Witchmere.

“When the time comes, you’ll possess the knowledge. I promise.”

She wanted to cry. Why did everyone have to be so damned vague?

“Because you need to sort these things for yourself, dear. You and Enguerrand are two highly intelligent individuals, and between you, you have what it takes to save your little village of Witchwood.”

Unaware she’d spoken aloud, she jolted when Brelenia answered. Losing some of the slushy water and almost undoing all the hard work she’d managed so far with Tripp’s wounds made her eyes burn with tears of frustration.

“Witchmere,” Elara corrected with a sniffle.

Brelenia’s lips twitched, and Elara guessed the Goddess had purposely goaded her with the wrong name. What was it Tripp said about the Gods testing mortals?

“Even water nymphs need a little fire inside them, my dear,” Brelenia said, patting her cheek in a motherly fashion. “You have more than most, but you have to dig to find it. I suspect, like a volcano, yours isn’t far below the surface. But it can bubble up and consume you if you don’t learn to manage it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Tripp’s body was on fire, and he wanted his misery to end—until he heard Elara speak.

“Can we create a box or bubble to contain his power?” she asked. “The quakes are getting worse.”

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