As the reigning head of the Healers Guild, Althea sat on the realm’s high council and was privy to many of the same discussions taking place in the lower council. The refugee program was on the cusp of transitioning, shifting from its origins as an exclusively military operation to one jointly overseen by the Healers Guild, the crown, and the military.
Since Calderre was a sanctuary realm, the change was of major interest to its people. The topic had been included in the open session agenda of the lower council to allow public commentary before final decisions were made during the closed winter sessions.
“When it goes through, they’ll be needing new councilors. Have you given it any thought?” Althea asked.
Celina’s stomach lurched at the suggestion, roiling in apprehension. She’d done the opposite—avoiding anyone with an opinion on the matter.
“I’m not what they need.”
Unlike her younger sister, Catriona, who lived for such events and would likely want to reiterate the entire council session during their ride home, Celina was exhausted by the emotional toll of the discussions. Nightmares she’d fought hard to suppress had begun haunting her again, forcing her to relive the events surrounding her mother’s death. The upcoming voting sessions couldn’t arrive soon enough to bring her peace of mind.
Stopping abruptly, Althea gripped her shoulder, her expression concerned. “No one expects you to be your mother, Celina. But your compassion and perspective as a healer are desperately needed in that room. If the right people don’t end up on the new council, the balance will stay skewed toward the military running the program. Just think on it.”
Absolutely not.Celina’s heart thudded like a wild horse trying to break free. She was a healer, not a leader or advisor. She could never fill the hole her mother had left. Not for her family, not for the council, and certainly not for the refugee program. It might not matter to anyone else, but it mattered to her.
Quickening her gait, Celina silently urged their footsteps faster. The sooner they left, the sooner she could collect her sister and return home. Why she’d given in to Cat’s desire to attend the open council session in the first place mystified her. Yet she’d risen before dawn to travel to the capital with her ecstatic sister, whose determined will was a force of nature not easily ignored.
They entered the realm’s military headquarters and made their way to the command center. Unfortunately, her least favorite military commander was present.
Grizzled and ornery unless presenting to the councils, Senior Commander Varice was well-respected but harsh. As a high-ranking leader, he was responsible for several divisions of the Lightning Teams, including the training division.
He looked up from a desk covered in paperwork as they entered. “Healer Althea, Matriarch Blackwood. Thank you for coming out to help us this morning.”
Celina bristled at his choice of greeting as she nodded politely. Although she couldn’t fault him for using her highest title of address, she preferred the professional title when she worked as a healer. Her annoyance stemmed from the fact that she’d saved enough of his warriors’ lives for him to know and respect her preference.
“Not a problem, Commander. Although I must say, this year’s new trainees seem particularly zealous. This is the third time we’ve been called out for an emergency.” Althea’s voice was barely above a reprimand.
The commander grimaced. “Noticed that, have you?” He shook his head and sighed. “We’ve had to reassign a few of our elite warriors to assist with this year’s training. Once they arrive next week, things should improve. Don’t know what’s gotten into this year’s lot.”
Grinding her teeth, Celina inhaled deeply to keep her composure light and respectful. Lack of proper training and supervision caused extensive accidents like these, not overly exuberant trainees barely old enough to wield a sword. Her older brother, Connor, and his peers had been the epitome of zealous at that age, most of them rising to the elite ranks of their best warriors, but they had never sustained such injuries. Safety was less of a priority for the current leadership, apparently.
Althea nodded her approval, but her pinky twitched as it did when she was extremely vexed. “I’ll be back tomorrow, unless you need me before then.” Her tone warned that he had better not need her again so soon.
“One more thing before you go.” His eyes flicked between the two of them, lingering on Celina a moment too long. A hint of unease unfurled under the weight of his words and invaded the room. “One of our Lightning Teams failed to report in. We’ve sent a team to investigate, but we’re requesting that you check in with any healers near the Eldridge border to see if they’ve treated any unidentified warriors in the past two weeks.”
Celina froze, her senses sharpening as a small spark of knowing, of significance, whispered through her soul. The specialized Lightning Teams were the elite of the warrior class. They took on highly dangerous, secretive missions, often doing reconnaissance, intelligence work, and rescuing mage refugees from hostile realms. If something went wrong, it usually went catastrophically wrong. Time seemed to slow, a storm of ice frozen in place, waiting.
“Just a general inquiry? Or do you have specific descriptions you want us to share?” Althea asked.
“Nothing specific for now. There’s a chance they’ve just been delayed, but if not, we need to know immediately.” The burden of his unspoken worry struck Celina, letting loose a dozen images of the warriors, starting with her brother.
“Which team is missing?” Celina poured steadiness into her voice as she met his gaze, trying to command an answer and not plead like she wanted to.
He studied her for a moment, a slight purse of his mouth belying his debate about answering her question.
“Team Onyx.”
Two words, and the icy wall of frozen time shattered, her heart caught in the maelstrom.
Connor was missing.
Lightning Forces Command Center, Realm of Calderre
Beingthehighest-standingmatriarchin the realm had certain privileges, and Celina was not above using them when necessary. Her brother’s disappearance was certainly a worthy reason. But it wasn’t that title she used to gain access to the command center for the Lightning Forces. It was her authority as one of their designated healers.
Nodding to passersby, she measured her steps to keep them steady as she wove the familiar path through the outpost for the second day in a row, continuing her valiant effort to act as if everything was perfectly normal rather than crumbling inside.
Beneath the finely honed façade of the powerful matriarch and compassionate healer, turmoil brewed. Her nights were plagued by vivid dreams where the memory of her mother’s violent death mixed with the fear of what might have happened to Connor.
