“That’s good,” Petrik says before I can. He stands up to the bed, looking down into Temra’s face.
“You should prepare yourselves.”
We turn to the healer at the same time a horrible cough shakes Temra’s entire body. Blood slides out the side of her mouth. I dab it away with the sleeve of my shirt.
“Wh-what do you mean?” I ask. “She survived the night.”
“I didn’t expect her to,” the healer admits. “She lost a lot of blood, and her wounds were more severe than I originally thought. While I’ve stitched up her side, the sword nicked the lung. Blood is trickling in. She will continue to cough it up.” A pause. “It’s not a wound that will heal, and there is nothing more I can do for her, except to make her comfortable. She doesn’t have longer than a week.”
“What?”
“I can wake her when you’re ready to say your goodbyes.”
“N-no! You’re wrong. She’s fine. She’ll live. She’s stronger than anyone I know.”
“I’ll leave you all alone to talk.”
The older woman exits, shutting the four of us inside the bedroom.
I think I might be shaking. I think I might lose control of my limbs and collapse or rage or do something else. But I know that everything is wrong, and Temra is here and alive but it doesn’t feel like she is.
Petrik stares at the door where the healer left before turning back around. He takes Temra’s free hand and rubs a thumb over her knuckles.
“We need to talk about what to do with Kymora,” Kellyn says.
“You can hang her for all I care,” I say. “I don’t want to talk about Kymora. Temra is hurt, and we need to do something.”
“Ziva, there’s nothing to be done.”
“What do you know? You’re no expert in medicine, and that old woman is a hack. We need to find someone else. Take her to someone better.”
“Ziva, she’d never survive a journey.”
“Then we’ll bring someone to her.”
“Ziva—”
“Stop saying my name like that!”
I’m being unfair. I know this. But I hurt, and I want everyone else to hurt, too.
“I’ve misled you all,” Petrik says quietly.
“We know you did,” Kellyn says. “Hard to miss what with the warlord—”
“No,” Petrik corrects. “I mean yes. I obviously didn’t tell you who I really was. But I was referring to something else.”
“There’s more!” Kellyn says. “You’ve got some nerve.”
Petrik ignores him. “When you asked me about other magic users, Ziva, I was careful with my words. I let you believe that I only knew of two, but that’s not true. I know someone who can save Temra.”
I blink away my tears to try to see Petrik’s face.
“Back in Skiro,” he continues, “there’s a magically gifted healer. I promised her I wouldn’t reveal her identity to anyone. But this is Temra. We need to take her to the capital immediately.”
“She’d never survive the journey,” Kellyn says. “It’s too far, and the road is rough.”
For just once can he be helpful and positive? Just this one time when it’s concerning my Temra?
“Let’s go,” I say. “Why are we still talking about it? If there’s a chance to save her, then we’re taking it.”
“We’re not leaving Kymora alone with my family,” Kellyn says, and though he doesn’t raise his voice, his tone is firm.
“You’ll stay with her,” I say, “while Petrik and I take Temra.”
“No, he should come with us,” Petrik says. “He can bring Kymora. We’ll turn her over to Prince Skiro. The royal family has been wanting to pull her from power since the realm was split.”
I don’t hide the distaste from my face.
“Kellyn will protect us on the road as well,” Petrik says in his defense, “now that—”
Now that Temra can’t do it.
“Fine, he can come. We leave within the hour.”
* * *
Petrik tries to offer up apologies while we get ready, but I silence him. “You came through when it mattered. That’s good enough for me. Quick thinking to put the tools in the smithy’s kiln for me.”
“I never betrayed you,” he says. “I hope you know that. I wasn’t in contact with my mother. We’re not close at all. I never gave her any information about you or your sister. I would never do that.”