Page 85 of Veil of Night & Flames

Mr. Griffin is already there, looking like he hasn’t slept in weeks, and I make a mental note to ask Chase what barrier-related task Mr. Griffin is working on that’s weighing so heavily.

Mr. Griffin gestures to the table that’s been down here since Riley walked us through her discovery. “Gently, son.”

Chase nods, then carefully deposits Whistler on the wooden tabletop. As one, he and Griff quickly remove Whistler’s filthy clothes and a few dressings.

I want to look away, but I don’t seem able to. I’m shocked into silent paralysis by my friend’s missing fingers, bruises, scars from bites, and fresh bite marks, too. And that’s not all. Entire sections of flesh are red and raw, as if he’d been dragged across asphalt.

I look away, hating to think how that happened.

Whistler’s eyes flick open, and he groans, then turns his head to scan the room. “Sorry,” he says, his voice little more than a rasp. “I think I’m late for the party.”

“But you’re here now,” Mr. Griffin says, his voice thick.

As he speaks, Mr. Griffin’s hands move over Whistler, putting on small dressings and salves. But as he strips off Whistler’s shirt, he sucks in air. I see it, too. A long, deep cut that’s black and oozing, the skin around it bright red from the heat of a fever.

Whistler groans, then passes out, and I can only assume that the exposure of the wound to air was too much for him to handle.

I move to Chase’s side, and he pulls me close, his arm around my shoulder. “Mr. Griffin?” I say, hating the fear in my voice.

Griff shakes his head, then covers Whistler in a blanket, presumably to help with the chills from his fever. “This is beyond me,” he whispers. “The fingers I can set. And I have salve for the wounds. But there’s internal damage, and that’s beyond my skill.

“I know,” Chase says again, then looks to me.

“You weren’t this bad off,” I whisper, understanding what he’s asking. “And she wasn’t the one who saved you.”

“She’s the only hope he’s got. She’s Adric’s best healer.”

I nod, then move to Whistler’s side. “I’ll take him to her.”

But Chase shakes his head. “He’ll never survive the crossing. Bring her back. Make whatever deal you have to, but bring her back with you.”

I nod. Then I draw a breath, meet Chase’s eyes, and step out of this realm.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

Iland on the terrace and immediately start running, not giving a flip about all the staff that pause in their chores to stare at their Queen-to-Be tearing through the castle toward the stairs that lead to the lower wing, where, I think, the healers’ quarters are.

I’ve never been there, and I’ve never asked, but I’m almost positive I once heard Chase’s healer—a petite, gray-haired woman named Solenne—say something about going back down to her quarters for some sort of herbal something-or-other.

And if I’m wrong? Well, presumably whoever does live down there will be able to point me in the right direction.

A squat man in one of the kitchen uniforms hurries by with a tray under his arm, presumably having just delivered a meal. I scurry over, grab his arm, and tug him to a stop.

His eyes go wide. “My queen,” he says, then drops to one knee.

“The healers’ quarters,” I demand, pulling him up by the back of his collar. “Take me there.”

He doesn’t hesitate, just starts off down the hallway with a quick nod and a polite, “Please follow me.”

I do, only half noticing the clusters of people forming in the halls, all doing nothing except watching us.

Well, let them. I’m on a mission. And as my current escort has made clear, I’m their queen even though Adric and I are only engaged.

Got to love local customs….

“Here,” the squat man says, breathing hard. We’ve descended two floors, and he stands at the entrance of a long corridor.