From the Ashes (The Elder Blood Chronicles, #3)(68)

“I can imagine the shock and I assure you I am not offended. I am getting rather uneasy about being so formally addressed though. May I beg your indulgence and ask that you simply call me Jala,” she said carefully, choosing her words in an attempt to sound as courtly as she could. Folding her coat over her arm she effectively hid her pregnancy from direct sight and hoped the subtle signal was enough to let the young lord know it wasn’t a topic she cared to discuss.

Micah nodded slowly and a faint smile creased his face. “If in return you would be willing to call me Micah, and we can set aside the formal speech,” he offered.

“Thank the Aspects,” Jala sighed and nodded gratefully to the heir of Arovan.

“Honor says you’ve come to see Sebastian. I regret to say that he is in no fit state for company. His health is such that I doubt he will even know you are in the room. Whatever you have come to speak with him about, however, perhaps you could say to me. I think that Arovan might be in a better position to offer whatever assistance you seek,” Micah said cautiously, his eyes searching her face for some indication as to her purpose here.

Jala shook her head slowly. “I think you misunderstand my presence here, Micah. I’m not here to ask for assistance. I’m here to offer it. I’ve come to heal him,” she corrected gently.

“That’s kind of you lady, but we have had healers here for that very purpose to no avail. I know you had time for a few lessons with Rose but I fear the poisons that eat at Sebastian are well beyond the talents of a master healer.” Micah leaned back against the chair and rubbed his jaw. The exhaustion on his features showed clearly as he relaxed and she wondered how long it had been since he had allowed himself a full night’s sleep.

“Would it hurt if I tried? If he truly is in that bad shape, where is the harm?” Jala asked as gently as she could. It was clear that he sought to protect his friend from the bumbling attempts of an amateur without giving her offense.

Frowning, he glanced toward the small stairs and then pushed off the chair once more. “At this point I don’t suppose anything would make him worse. I keep expecting to find him dead every time I open the door,” he admitted sadly.

“And so you check on him every hour of the day,” Jala concluded as she headed for the stairs.

“Often, more than that. Sebastian and I were close as children and have managed to remain friends still. Given house politics, that speaks volumes for him. If you truly can save him…” His voice trailed off as she held her hand up to stop him.

“Don’t say it. I uttered words very similar to those not so long ago and it came to nothing. Let me try to help him. If it works, then we will both find relief in it. I want no promises from this, though. I don’t do this for favor,” Jala said quietly and continued the climb up the worn stairs.

“May I ask why you do it then?” Micah pressed gently.

“Because I have a small girl at my home that would desperately love to hear that her father lives and because it is the right thing to do. I ask for no favors or promises beyond perhaps a smile on our next meeting,” Jala explained as she reached the doorway at the top of the stairs.

“You have Devony? Sebastian thought her dead,” Micah exclaimed in shock.

“Until the fall of Sanctuary, we had thought her dead as well. One of my friends managed to save her, however, and she has been safe in Merro since. I regret that I did not send word to Sebastian regarding it but I fear my mind was fully occupied elsewhere,” Jala said.

Inhaling deeply she pushed the door open slowly and peeked inside. A dim lamp burned on a table on the far side of the room barely illuminating the sleeping form on the small bed. Blankets were heaped over Sebastian but she could see how wasted his form was by the drawn look of his face. There was nothing in this man that spoke of the robust young lord she had met in the spring. As silently as she could, she crossed the room and leaned over for a closer look at his face. His skin was ashen and his lips held a tinge of blue. If not for the steady rise and fall of his chest she would have believed him already dead. With a slow gentle touch she pulled the blankets back and folded them over his waist. The body she revealed was skeletal with barely any flesh remaining. Glancing over at the doorway she saw Micah watching with a grief stricken expression.

“We can’t get him to keep down much more than honey water. On good days he can manage beef broth but it isn’t enough,” he explained in a voice filled with misery. “We keep him warm and clean and force him to eat what we can but it just isn’t enough.”

Jala nodded her understanding and felt her heart go out to the young lord. She knew far better than most how horrible not enough felt. Pulling a chair closer to the bed she sat down silently and looked back at Micah once more. “Give me some time. I promise no harm will come to him. But rest while I work, please. I can see how worn you are. Sit in the chair in here and watch if you like, but rest while you do,” Jala said in a voice barely above a whisper. She watched him long enough to see the nod of agreement and then turned back to her patient. The faint footfalls of boots on wood sounded as Micah crossed the room behind her and took a seat in a chair near the foot of the bed. She glanced up once at him and offered the best smile she could manage. “Do you know what brought him low?” she asked softly.

“A serpent’s tooth arrow. They told me they removed all of the spines but couldn’t stop the poison,” Micah explained.