I nod.
‘Excellent. Excellent. He’ll need it.’ Slowly and carefully, he pulls at the fabric I used to pack the wound, never fully removing it, just peeringinside. Throughout the inspection, he only winces once – when he turns Kyor over – and I hope that’s a good sign.
‘You packed this?’ he asks.
I nod.
‘You did a good job. Nasty wound this. Spear?’
I nod again. ‘Can you heal it?’ I snap. ‘Will he be all right?’ I know he needs the details, but I need him to fix Kyor, not waste time talking to me.
Gently, he prods at the wound. ‘I’m not the strongest healer,’ he admits. ‘I can stop any internal bleeding and seal the wound, but I can’t heal it completely. He’ll need to rest the shoulder for a few weeks and even then it might never be what it was. The muscle …’ He tuts slightly. ‘You wish me to proceed?’
I stare at Kyor. It’s his dominant arm – his fighting arm – that’s injured, and the fact that it might not recover completely would be more than a slight blow to Kyor. ‘Is there another here who can heal him more completely, who also comes with discretion?’
The healer smiles regretfully. ‘No. I’m it, and he doesn’t have much time either.’
I swallow. He’s right – I know he is. We don’t have time to drag Kyor into the centre of Galreck and find another healer, not now. ‘Then do what you can. Please.’
He presses his lips together and turns to Kyor as if he’s about to finally start doing the fucking task I brought him here for, but instead, he pauses and looks at the wolf. ‘Is she going to be a problem?’
Impatience bites at me and I work to keep my tongue civil. ‘No. She wants her bonded healed. Like I do. Please, do what you have to do.’
‘Fine.’ Still his attention remains on Elska. ‘It’ll hurt, but it is necessary.’
‘Do it,’ I press. ‘Now. He’s already waited too long.’
‘Very well.’ He points to the sole log I have. ‘Light that, will you?’
I had hoped to save it for later, but I suppose it will do me no good if the healer freezes while he works.
I light the log, and finally the healer turns his attention back to the man I lo—to Kyor.
‘I’ll do my best,’ he tells me. ‘Now, we need to gethim onto the bed.’
I watch as he unpacks the wound, the copper tang of blood filling the air and blood weeping down Kyor’s side, before realising I can’t see this.
I can’t watch Kyor bleeding in front of me. Not anymore. Not when I don’t have to.
As the healer works away, I slump to the floor and sit next to Elska. The hard, cold ground almost immediately numbs me, but I don’t have it in me to move or care.
‘He’s going to be all right,’ I say softly to her, and she lays her huge head on my lap. I don’t stroke her – I’ve made that mistake before – but I welcome her warmth and comfort all the same.
Credit to him, the healer works tirelessly, and while I can’t see the magic he’s pulling on, I can see the effects on his body as he pushes himself to his limits. Sweat beads on his forehead and weaves down his temples, and before long the back of his cloak is soaked through and stuck to his skin.
Once or twice I force myself to my feet, searching for signs of the spidery green mottling that Kyor feared might infect him, but there’s nothing there.
Nails and teeth cause infections. Not blood.
At least we’ve learned a lesson, even if the knowledge came to us in the worst possible way.
It’s another long hour before the healer steps away from Kyor.
‘I’ve done all I can.’ The old man is visibly exhausted, and while he may be a healer, I sense that cuts, scrapes, and bruises are normally his wheelhouse. This, working on so much muscle and flesh, skin and tendons … that’s another thing entirely. I just hope the repair means Kyor can fight again. Then again, maybe I should just be grateful he’s alive.
‘Thank you, healer…?’ I trail off, inviting his name.
He smiles. ‘Best not to exchange names, for both of us. Good day to you. I hope he recovers well. Some of my finest work, that.’ He bows to Elska and excuses himself before carefully sliding what passes for a door open and closing it again as he leaves.
