Sneak Peek: Scars, Chapter 13 (Patreon)

With a bit and a half done today, I'm aiming for a weekend release of the next installment of Scars, which showcases Justir and Khy-kala's own investigations of their respective cases. To that end, we open with a scene in Janth's Bend as local physicians attempt to save Jilene's life. 

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Strong little mayfly, Khy-kala thought with a touch of sadness. But not strong enough. The doctor and his assistants were good for a small-town physician and provincial Mercies, but not even Talloic’s royal physician could save the girl, nor could any mage schooled in the healing arts. The woman’s injuries were beyond any healing.

Khy-kala nervously licked her lips. She closed her eyes briefly, then stepped forward. “I can save her,” she announced.

The doctor looked up, the Mercies turning to her in surprise. “I can save her,” the elf repeated.

“How?” the man asked.

Khy-kala met his eyes. They were a light brown. “Not with medicine.”

It took him only a few seconds to realize what she meant, his expression shifting from consternation to disapproval. Magecraft, though more tolerated, was still viewed with suspicion in human nations. In a small village like this, it could easily be seen as immoral or unwelcome, particularly if performed by an unsanctioned practitioner like a hedge mage or an elf. The younger Mercy puffed up her cheeks, reddening in her face, but her older teacher put a hand on her shoulder to silence any protests she might make. The doctor looked from Khy-kala to the holy woman and got a minute nod in response.

“Very well,” he said, stepping back. “Do...  do what you have to, if you must.”

“I need to be alone with her,” Khy-kala told him.

Again, a shared glance between the doctor and his assistants and an unspoken acquiescence. The younger Mercy left only grudgingly, the doctor reluctantly. The older woman gave Khy-kala a small nod. Before they closed the door, she looked halfway over her shoulder. “If this works, it will hurt.”

A pause. The doctor gave a choppy affirming nod. The Mercy closed the door behind them, leaving Khy-kala alone with the dying young woman. The elf locked the door,stepping up next to the table. She doubted anyone in Janth’s Bend would know what she was about to do, but she wasn’t going to take the chance.

The scent of blood and the remnants of the woman’s terror were thick in the air. The scent stirred things deep inside Khy-kala. “You survived,” she said at last, shifting into elvish. The young Mercy was listening at the door. “I wonder how. I wonder if it was all you, or...” her fingers touched the edges of the woman’s torn throat. “Or maybe it sensed something in you it wanted more than your blood. But you still got away, didn’t you? You wanted to live and you fought for it.” She was at the head of the table now. “I might be making a mistake. If you weren’t just bitten, if it made you drink, then it’s better that I let you die. But...” she closed her eyes. “I’ll take that chance. So come on, little one. Show me how much you want to live. Fight for it.”

She touched the tip of her right forefinger to the woman’s forehead. The girl’s eyes snapped open and she screamed. Magic, dark and warped, rippled up from Khy-kala’s core and into Jilene’s flesh. Fractured bones began to knit. Severed blood vessels regrew. Bone marrow began to pump out blood to replace what the woman had lost. Her torn skin started to bind anew. This wasn’t a healing spell. This was another of Melody’s gifts. Regenerate.