Finally, I found a very weak pulse in his neck. He was alive, but barely.
The other Wults and fairies watched through the doorway. No one spoke except Heidel, who, after muttering a few unrepeatable words, slammed my phone to the ground, drew her sword, and stabbed it through the screen.
I wanted to be upset, but my emotions were so off the charts I only stared blankly at the ruined piece of technology on the ground.
“The machine was not functioning,” she said. “You must heal him without this cursed device’s help.”
Forcing my mind to stay calm was getting harder to do as I faced her brother. No phone. No outside help. He would die. I knew he would die, yet somehow I still held out hope that I could save him.
I needed a healing spell, but what enchantment could I possibly use that would restore his blood volume? I cursed myself for not learning more healing spells. I’d healed Heidel once, but that was without the need to replace her blood volume. What could I do to help him?
With my fingers still pressed to his neck, I felt the pulse slowly weaken, and I wasn’t sure what to do as I once again applied pressure to the wound through the gauze.
I looked up at the two fairies huddled in the doorway. “Can’t you do something? A healing spell?”
They glanced nervously at me. “There is dark magic in his wound. We cannot touch it.”
“Dark magic?”
I focused my full attention on his wound and found it tainted with a dark power. Why hadn’t I sensed it sooner? How had it gotten there?
“Surely there is something you can do?” I asked the fairies.
Esmelda took a cautious step toward me. “We cannot touch the taint of black magic without our gemstone to absorb the dark power.”
The two Wult men knelt beside me and held a blanket to Kull’s arm.
“Can’t you use your magic?” Brodnik asked me.
“I… I might make him worse.”
“He can’t get too much worse, can he?” Brodnik said.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure.” My mind was in a strange place. It didn’t seem to want to make sense of the world around me, which I was fairly certain gave me a diagnosis of mental instability and made me completely incompetent as a healer.
Without realizing that I’d called it, magic streamed in waves of amber and blue from my fingertips. It enveloped me, filling me with energy, and then encircled Kull.
The magic controlled my movements as I reached for him. The wound in his arm was long and deep. Nothing but surgery would have had the ability to repair the ripped artery, yet as my fingertips touched his skin, the flesh began to knit back together.
Fear filled me momentarily as I watched the process of Kull’s flesh healing. How was I doing this? The magic was working on its own—I wasn’t controlling it. But I kept my hand over the wound until the last bits of torn flesh had re-formed.
When the magic receded, I stumbled back, my heart beating with a wild cadence in my chest. Sweat beaded on my forehead. That shouldn’t have been possible. Magic wasn’t supposed to work independently of the practitioner. Something was wrong with me. Seriously wrong.
Kull inhaled, his face becoming less pale as air filled his lungs.
The two Wults beside me stared at him. Brodnik shook his shoulder gently. “Sir,” he said. “Can you hear me?”
Kull didn’t open his eyes.
“Perhaps we should let him rest,” I said.
“Will he be okay?” Rolf asked.
“I can’t say for sure. But he’ll live for now.”
The sound of someone shouting came from outside the tent, turning our focus to the tent’s front flap.
“Who’s out there?” Esmelda asked her brother.
Terminus shook his head.
“Hello! Is anyone in there?” came a man’s voice.
“I’ll check,” I said, then stood and left Kull behind me.
To be honest, I was thankful for the distraction. Kull’s injury left me with another mystery. Who—or what—had injured him? In my life, I’d only seen one creature take down Kull like that—a Regaymor—a crazy-powerful spirit being from an unknown dimension. Even more troubling, how in the great universe had I healed him?
After crossing through the main room, I stopped by the tent’s opening and moved the flap aside. Jordan Young, also known as Eros the Irresistible, stood outside. Usually he wore Goth makeup, leather pants, and a bare chest, but today, he thankfully wore a black T-shirt and jeans. Minus the makeup, he almost looked normal.
Jordan stood a little shorter than me. Although the rain had died down, his dark hair was damp and smelled of unwashed scalp.
“Hi Olive,” he said with a wink. “Did you miss me?”
I did my best not to roll my eyes. “What do you want, Jordan?”
“I thought you should know they’re reopening in an hour.”
“So soon? Did they finish the investigation already?”
“No idea. But you should probably get your booth set up as soon as you can. The crowd will probably be huge, so you’ll want to do it now rather than wait.” He stared up at the tent. “When did you get this thing set up? I thought you were staying in the trailer.”
“I am. I just… I had some friends stop by.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah, from out of town.”
“Are they performers? I thought only hired crew were allowed to camp back here.”
“Oh, well…”
“Have I met them?” he asked, looking past me.
“No. Not yet. They’re fairies, some of them, and barbarians—very authentic.”
“Why haven’t I met them yet? I know everyone in this place.”
“How could you possibly know everyone?”
He shrugged. “I pay attention. So, why can’t I see them now?”
“They’re a little busy. Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll see them soon.”
“Can I come inside?”
Dude, why can’t this guy take a hint?
“I think it would be best for you to go now. I’ll see you back at the festival, okay?”
“All right,” he said and then turned away.
I let the tent flap fall closed and turned to
