“His body is almost worn out, his pain grows each day,” I said, my throat thick. “My fear is that the Earthwife is dead and that her spell must have linked her life to my father’s, which means there’s no hope.”
Pharis’ expression was careful, almost cagey.
A long moment passed before he finally said, “She’s not dead.”
He sounded so certain.
“How do you know?” I shook my head in confusion.
Did he have some Elven power that allowed him to detect such things?
“When I returned to Seaspire after taking you home, I went to the dungeon to… take care of her for good,” he said. “She was gone. I don’t know how she escaped or where she is now, but chances are she’s alive and well.”
Shock stole my ability to speak for a moment. When I recovered it, my tone made my displeasure clear.
“And you’re just telling me this now?”
“What would it have helped to tell you?” Pharis asked. “What would you have done differently? Even if we could find one, you’re not going to go to another Earthwife for another cure. Those women are all connected, like a spiderweb of twisted magic.”
He stepped closer, his hands raised in supplication, but I took a step backward to avoid his touch.
“Telling you would only have added to your worries, and you have enough already.”
His sensible tone only heightened my indignation.
“Don’t treat me like a child, Pharis—you’re not my father,” I snapped.
“No, I’m not. But your father will be dead soon, and then I’ll be all you have left. You need to consider that.”
“You’re a monster!” I screamed, hating his words with my whole self. “I’d rather fend for myself than spend another minute with you. Just… leave.”
I spun to face away from his shocked expression.
“Well there’s gratitude for you,” Pharis said behind my back.
I heard a bitter laugh. “I give up literally everything for you, and you throw it back in my face. Nice.”
Twisting at the waist, I saw him storming off, jerking his sword from its scabbard on his back.
After a minute I heard loud, repetitive noises. It sounded like he was whacking small trees with the heavy blade. Letting off steam, I guessed.
At least he hadn’t jumped on his horse and left us altogether as I’d irrationally invited him to do.
Regret over my emotional outburst swamped me. His explanation made sense—I wasn’t mad at him, just the situation.
I was afraid now that I knew Sorcha was out there somewhere. And what he’d bluntly said about my father was true.
That scared me too—what we were facing in the next few days.
Taking several deep breaths, I prepared myself to endure whatever well-deserved angry comebacks Pharis might have for me.
Then I went to find him.
He was indeed murdering saplings when I discovered him in a small clearing. He’d removed his shirt and thrown it to the ground along with his jacket.
Instead of immediately announcing my presence, I stood and watched him.
His back was to me, and the show of muscles moving beneath its smooth, tanned surface was mesmerizing to watch.
