Elaine's stomach clenched tight and cold. 'Konrad is out there alone with that beast. We must help him.'
'Now, child, either Konrad is fine and will come dragging his tail home, or. .' Thordin shrugged.
'Or what?' she asked, but she knew. Thordin's matter-of-factness was too callous for words. 'You have to help him.'
'Oh, aye, child, but first I heard you screaming. Konrad's better at taking care of himself than you are. And this brother of yours.' He nudged Blaine with his foot, smiling.
How could they all be smiling when Konrad might be dying or dead? Elaine knew her visions would show her Elaine's safety, or lack thereof, but she wasn't sure of Konrad's. He could die without her knowing. The thought made her throat ache with unshed tears.
'He's all right, Elaine.' Blaine helped her to her feet. He winced as he took her weight. She pushed back his heavy cloak. His left shoulder bore tooth marks. Blood trickled down his arm.
'Does it hurt?'
He gave a crooked smile. 'It would have to be the same arm the tree tore.'
'Can you move it, boy?' Thordin asked. He proceeded to manipulate Blaine's arm, making sure it had a full range of motion. The arm did, but Blaine was tight-lipped and sweating when it was done.
'He's hurt; can't you see that?' Elaine said.
'Yes, but he's not too hurt to fight.'
A horse pushed through the underbrush. Konrad was on it. He seemed uninjured. His eyes widened. He leapt off the horse and ran to Elaine. 'Sit down, for gods' sake. You're wounded.' He pushed her back into the bloody snow, medicine pack already open. His strong, sure fingers searched her face, neck. Fingertips kneading her scalp searching for the cut. She'd never felt his hands on her body so strongly. She didn't know whether to say something, or not.
It was Blaine who said, 'It's not her blood.'
Konrad didn't even look up. His healer's hands still searched for the wound he was sure was there.
Blaine touched his shoulder. 'She's not hurt.' Then it was Blaine's turn to frown at her. 'You aren't hurt?'
Elaine looked at Konrad's serious face, so close, but finally said, 'I don't think so.'
Konrad blinked as if just now paying attention. 'You aren't hurt?' He sounded like he didn't believe it.
Elaine wished she were hurt. Some small wound that would bleed a great deal and look more serious than it was. She started to say no, then realized she was. There were lines of dull, burning ache on her cheek, arms, ribs. She raised a hand to her cheek, rubbing at the wolf's Wood. She gave a soft hiss.
Konrad turned her head to one side. 'Scratches.' He glanced down at the headless wolf. 'This?'
'Yes.'
His fingers held her chin firmly, but not hard enough to hurt. He poured water on a rag and rubbed the wound, trying to clean it. The rag's cold water was still warmer than the surrounding air. It stung.
'What happened to the beastie you were chasing?' Thordin asked.
'I lost it in the trees.' He never took his eyes from Elaine, from his work. His concentration was pure; fighting, healing, whatever, he was totally absorbed in it, as he had been in his love for his wife, as he was consumed in grieving for her.
Elaine realized with an almost physical jolt that the very trait she loved most about Konrad was the one that made him oblivious to her. His grief would live forever, as his love would have.
She stared into his green eyes, and he did not truly see her. He might never truly see her. That one thought hurt more than any wound.
Konrad lifted her arm. The claws had scratched through the cloth here and there. It was hard to tell if the wounds bled, for she was covered in wolf blood.
'Were you lying under the thing when it was beheaded?' he asked.
'Yes.'
He made an exasperated sound low in his throat. 'Who killed the wolf?' He looked up for the first time. 'Blaine?'
'It wasn't me. I was too busy killing my wolf. In fact, after you see to Elaine, I've got a bite in my shoulder.'
'Is anyone else hurt?' He bent back to Elaine. He'd unlaced her sleeve and was pushing the cloth back to reveal the white undersleeve. He traced the scratches. The cloth had protected her arms for the most part-no deep wounds.
'I'm living a charmed life of late,' Thordin said. 'Two encounters with evil and not a scratch.'
'I slew the wolf,' Tereza said.
Konrad rubbed salve into all the scratches he could find. 'Why did you have to behead the blasted thing on top of her?'
'It was about to kill her,' Tereza said. Her voice was warm with the first stirrings of anger. 'If you hadn't gone off chasing boggles, you might have been here to help.'
Konrad's shoulders hunched as if she'd struck him. Elaine stared at him. What was happening? What was he thinking to make that one remark hurt so much? His hands were smoothing salve on her cheek, touching her, the thought was enough. His mind opened to her like a door swinging wide.
He'd chased the great beast as though it had slain his wife, though Elaine didn't understand why. Beatrice hadn't been killed by wolves of any kind. He felt guilty for leaving them all, for failing them, as he'd failed his wife. Why failed?
His green eyes looked at her at last. They searched her face, seeing her, truly seeing her, as she had always wanted him to. But it was pity, not love. His thoughts filled his eyes like water and spilled into Elaine. She'd swallowed the wolf's blood. It was no natural wolf, and one way to become a werewolf was to drink the blood of one.
Elaine stared at him, mouth slowly opening in horror. Her eyes widened. 'No, it wasn't.'
The sudden tenderness on Konrad's face was too much. His pity was overwhelming. Why couldn't it have been love? The salty tears stung the cuts on her face.
'What's wrong?' Elaine asked.
'Did you swallow the blood, Elaine?' Jonathan asked.
She stared up at him with panicked eyes. 'Yes.' Her voice sounded strangled.
'No,' Tereza said. 'It was just a wolf.'
'That size, in the company of a man-wolf,' Jonathan said. He shook his head.
'No,' she said again, voice strong and sure. 'It was just a dire wolf, unnatural perhaps, but not a werewolf.'
'How do you know that, Wife? How?'
Tereza shook her head stubbornly. 'It doesn't have to be a werewolf.'
'But what if it is?' Konrad said.
They all looked at Elaine. Blaine fell to his knees beside her, tears running down his cheeks, freezing in tiny silver beads on his face.
'But Blaine was bitten. Is he in danger, too?'
'I have a salve for scratches and bites if I can get to them before the poison has time to spread, but… if you swallow the blood, the salve cannot help.'
'Surely a potion,' Tereza said.
Konrad shook his head. 'Most who drink the blood want to be a werewolf. There is no potion to save those who don't want to be saved.'
'There is a way to tell if wolves are natural or not.' Gersalius sat on his horse at the edge of the clearing. He had been so quiet Elaine had forgotten about him.
'What of the travelers?' Jonathan said, 'Will they be safe while we linger here?'
'Safe enough,' the wizard said.
'Jonathan, if there is a chance to know whether Elaine is contaminated, we must take it.'
Jonathan turned to his wife. 'Magic to save us from magic.'
Tereza made a small pushing motion with her hands. 'Enough of this argument, Jonathan. Do what you must, wizard.'
Jonathan opened his mouth as if he would argue, but didn't. 'I will go see to the travelers.' With that, he took
