Page 112 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Of course, I circled back moments later when Pete sensed our approach. He glanced up and our eyes met. His gaze was as wicked as a smack on the bottom. He mentioned something to his friend, who laughed so hard his broad shoulders bounced.
“What’s so funny?” Tansy whined, reposing on a log.
“I was just regaling Sedge with the tale of how Shorty here gave me the slip,” Pete replied. “When I went to recover her, she got my arse walloped by a band of Fomorians.”
Tansy and Olea gasped.
“Fomorians?” Olea set hands on hips. “Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time? How in the Isle of Apples aren’t you dead?”
I stiffened where I stood. Sure, Olea and Tansy seemed nice, but I’d only known them for two hours. And torture could loosen the lips of even good people. The fewer people who dealt with Gentian that knew of my powers the better.
“We had a stroke of luck.” Pete shot me an expressive glance—I’m not telling. “A Nixie intervened on our behalf.”
“ANixie?” Tansy asked.
“Aye,” Pete said. “I killed one of the fiends. The two others, the Nixie took to her lair.”
Olea bustled over to Pete. “Right—then what parts need healing?” She clapped a hand to his forehead. “At least fever hasn’t gripped you this time.”
Pete batted away her examining hands, which now glowed with a shimmering white light. Even the healer, Shasta’s, hands hadn’t done that. “I’m fine, Olea, truly.”
Olea’s hand auras dimmed, though her eyes probed him.
“After the scuffle, Shorty doctored the one bite I suffered.”
Olea faced me. “You have healing? Hedge or stem?”
“Well, I—I—” I cleared my throat. “I don’t know to be honest.” I paused, curious. “Mind if I ask what the difference is?”
Olea shrugged. “Hedge healers imbue magic into herbs and medicinals. They’re experts at potioning too. Stem healers, like me, can heal with touch.” She raised her hands, and they glowed again for several beats. “Our magic is swifter, though it doesn’t reach as deeply unless we use great stores of power. We’re good in a pinch to stave off death, but hedge healers’ magic works to the marrow—only slower.” She studied me. “If you do have healing, I’d be glad to give you some pointers.”
I pondered how to respond. Did I want instruction on a power I didn’t even know I had?
Tansy’s delicate nostrils flared. “I don’t smell any power in her, Olea.”
I bit my lip.Thank Danu for that.
“You can’t smell the stem healing in me, can you?” Olea said, still scrutinizing me.
“Because you masked it,” Tansy returned. “Shorty seemed astounded by theteastub. I doubt she kens how to mask a power like healing.”
“I smell something in her,” Sedge noted. His brown eyes bored into me, his bulbous nose sniffing. “Though I can’t distinguish it.”
“Have you all foresworn common courtesy?” Pete harrumphed at his friends, snapping them out of it. “Stop sniffing her.”
I almost laughed at the absurd order.
“Christ, you’re as bad as the hounds.”
The hounds of note—two mammoth yellow labs, two freckled beagles, and Sionna—scampered about the camp, barking, baying, and chasing another fuchsia rodent. I hoped this one would get away, but I was realistic.
Sedge chuckled. He was a stocky, average sized feyr, but the strength radiating from him screamed lethal. I wondered what breed of fae he was. Not a Middling, I guessed.
“If you don’t have healing, then how did you doctor Pete’s wound?” Olea questioned me, assessing whether her friend needed further medical attention.
“I cleaned it with rubbing alcohol.”
“Which bloody fecking hurt,” Pete grumbled.
