“Yes, yes. But first, I must clean the area.” She beckons me with her hand. “Come here. I need you to hold her arms.”
“Why?”
“Because this is going to hurt, and she’ll most likely wake up.”
I hold Cheryl’s arms, looking at her flushed face. Painful memories come to the forefront of my mind. This is too familiar,and the feeling of desperation swirling in my chest is the same as before.
Phylia dunks a white cloth into a large pot with a clear liquid, then presses it gently over Cheryl’s wound. It fizzles upon contact, and Cheryl’s body goes rigid. A second later, she screams at the top of her lungs and tries to move away. I’m holding her arms, but her legs are free and she’s kicking them.
“Dukie, hold her legs!”
The kid jumps on the table, covering her legs with his small body. But Cheryl is too strong and sends Dukie flying off the table with a kick.
“He can’t hold her,” I say.
“What in the world is happening here?” a newcomer asks.
I look toward his voice and find a male with red hair wearing a soldier’s uniform standing in the hallway. Fucking hell. He works for Queen Maewe.
“Ronwen, come quickly. I need your assistance,” Phylia urges him.
He spares me a glance, and during the split second that our gazes lock, I know he’s aware of what I am, and that I shouldn’t be here. But he rushes to the table and holds Cheryl’s legs without comment.
I can’t worry about him now. Cheryl continues to scream while fat tears roll down her cheeks. “It burns! Make it stop. Make it stop.”
“It’ll be over soon, Cher. Just hold on a little longer,” I plead.
Phylia cleans the wound as fast as she can, then applies a green salve all over Cheryl’s back. “This will draw the rest of the poison out.”
Cheryl’s body slackens, and her eyes close once more. “She passed out again,” I say.
“Yes, that’s good. She needs to rest while the medicine does its job.”
I release her arms and grimace when I notice the red marks my fingers left imprinted on her fair skin.
“I thought you left,” Ronwen says after a moment.
“Do you know them, son?” Phylia asks.
He nods. “Yes, they were guests of King Ruel.”
I look at him. “We did leave, but we had to return.”
His eyes widen. “How?”
“With Vryenn’s help.”
“The princess?” Dukie asks, wide-eyed.
“Yes.”
“I thought the portals had been sealed. How did you find yourselves in Hornet’s Garden of all places?” Phylia starts to put things away, but I know she’s watching me from the corner of her eye.
“It’s a long story.”
She glances at Cheryl. “Well… you’re not going anywhere for a while. Besides, I need to tend to your injuries. You were also sprayed by the hellionflare’s acid.”
I glance at the burns on my arms, having completely forgotten about them. “I barely feel anything.”
