Chapter 1
"Your son will be dead by morning."
The woman's wail pierces the room like a crack of lightning as she buries her face in her husband's chest. The man wraps an arm around his sobbing wife as he looks down at his boy who lays eerily still on the bed in front of them. As if on cue, a breath rattles out of their son's lungs, clearly requiring great effort for him to simply breathe. The light brown hair he inherited from his mother is stuck to his head in wet strings and his face is completely devoid of color.
Sylleth gives the couple a sympathetic nod but I recognize the wolfish gleam in his eye even through the tiny crack in the door across the room. Where the older couple sees their son, a person they cherish and love, Sylleth sees valuable coins to be earned. He turns to his assistant, Aline, and she returns his look with a grim nod, playing right into the theatrics of the so-called healer of Virethorn Keep.
Finally, the woman's sobs subside and she looks up at Sylleth with puffy eyes.
"What can you do?" The woman asks with a shaky voice.
Sylleth furrows his brow as if he feels great sympathy for the woman as he gently shakes his head.
"We have a powerful healing potion, but..."
He stalls, looking at Aline again. Her eyebrows go up in concern as she gnaws on her lip. They had perfected their performance, every gesture, every muscle intentionally tuned to play their roles. I would be more impressed if I wasn't so annoyed.
"But what?!" The woman demands.
"It's expensive," Sylleth says. "And it isn't a guarantee but it's the best shot he has."
"How much?" The man asks.
"Forty aether," Sylleth replies.
"What?! That's ridiculous!" The man roars, leaping to his feet before his wife yanks him back down by his shirt. The muscles on Sylleth's face tighten, he clearly didn't expect the man to be resistant to his rather large price.
"Shut up you idiot! We have to find a way!" His wife hisses.
The man looks at his wife then Sylleth and shakes his head.
"We're farmers, we...don't have that kind of money," he says in defeat.
Sylleth tilts his head, studying the man's face.
"I'm sorry but the items I need to create the cure are very expensive," he says. The lie sizzles in the air and feels as if it is burning my lungs, making my face grow hot.
"We'll do anything!" The woman cries out. "He's our only son!"
Sylleth runs a hand through his white-blonde hair and sighs, as if he is working out a complex problem. My hands clench in the fabric of my well-worn dress. I desperately want to go out there and explain that we can save her son's life for almost nothing but I know better.
"Will he receive a dowry?" Sylleth asks.
They shake their heads.
"Where is your farm?"
They look at each other before responding.
"North of here, at the base of the Baskill Mountains," the woman says.
"I'll take it," Sylleth says. "That will settle the fee."
"No," the man replies firmly. "It's been in my family for generations. Where would we live and work?"
Sylleth pauses, watching their faces intently.
"You may rent it from me," Sylleth says.
"Outrageous," the man replies. "Tell me what items you need for the elixir and I'll get them myself."
Sylleth narrows his eyes at him. He does not like being challenged or questioned.
"You can work off the debt, you'll give me 50% of your earnings for the next year," he says. "And your son will live."
"We can't, we will starve," says the man.
Sylleth nods, as if he understands, as if he cares.
"Then I suppose you'll have to take your chances tonight," he says as she stands to leave. "Good luck to all three of you."
The woman wails again, her cries sounding more and more painful as they fall through her trembling lips. The man comforts her, his face creased with worry as he thinks through the predicament before him. Finally, looking between Sylleth, his wife, and his son, he sighs and nods.
Sylleth gives him a kindhearted smile. It might look sympathetic to an outsider but I see the cruelty in his smirk.
"We'll need some of his blood," he says.
The man looks skeptical but his wife nods wildly.
"Of course, here," she says as she yanks up her son's dirty, sweat-soaked sleeve.
Sylleth turns to Aline.
"Collect the sample and we'll start on the elixir," he says before turning to the couple. "Your son is in for a long recovery, but believe me, he's in good hands."
Aline grabs a small, shiny dagger off the table behind them and makes a small cut on the young man's arm. A thick trickle of blood seeps out and into the vial she holds beneath the wound. Once full, she pushes a cork in the top and presents it to Sylleth as if it were an offering. Sylleth's slender fingers wrap around the vial as he plucks it from her palm and gives her a knowing nod.
"I'll be back soon, Aline will sit with you in the mean time," he says as Aline wraps a bandage around the cut before sitting next to the woman and holding her hand.
Sylleth struggles to hide the smile from his face as he moves across the room, his eyes narrowed on me as he swings the door open and steps inside.
He tosses me the vial as if it is a meaningless thing.
"You know I don't like eavesdropping Naela," he says with a soft yet deadly tone. "Start the elixir."
I catch the vial and move to the table in our small workshop. It is little more than a storage closet but we don't need much to conduct our business.
Sylleth is well-known around our part of Dravenhold as a highly successful healer though he's never actually healed anybody in his life. Since the war ended, magical beings, or mystics, have been rounded up and either drained or forced to serve the crown leaving minimal resources for the rest of the kingdom.
"Why did you charge them so much?" I ask quietly as I add the boy's blood to a glass cup.
Speaking up had gotten me in trouble in the past but Sylleth was in a decent mood today and I couldn't stop thinking about the deep turmoil on the couple's face. Their farm was clearly very important to them and Sylleth had little use for it. Why take that from them?
Sylleth chuckles at my naivety.
"Sweet Naela, who has no idea how the world works," he says as if there is someone else in the room.
"I can literally make the elixir for almost nothing," I say softly. "Charge the nobles all you want but these people are obviously poor. They're farmers. Why take so much from them especially when you don't need it?"
The floor creaks underneath Sylleth's boot steps as he approaches me. His slender hands rest on the the table in front of me, caging me in from behind. His warm breath tickles the back of my shoulder as he speaks.
"Naela, you are my priority. Keeping you fed and safely away from prying eyes is what matters to me. I can't save every peasant family from starvation."
Guilt blooms in my chest.
"They're my abilities, I want to be able to help people, not force them into debt."
I immediately wish I could recapture the words and stuff them back into my mouth. Sylleth's hand twists into my hair, pulling tighter and tighter.
"What do you think would happen if someone knew a little gem speaker was in here curing people? What do you think they'd do to you Naela?"
I bite my lip.
"I know, I know, I just–"
Sylleth swept my fiery red hair back, exposing my ear to him. Then he dips down lower.
"Do you know what it's like to be drained? Do you know how they do it?"
I close my eyes, trying to steady my breath.
"Yes, you've told me," I say.
"Do you know how painful it is? How long it takes before you finally die? I've watched people cry for hours, beg for death."
I bite down on my bottom lip as I nod.
"Yes, I–"
"Naela," he cuts me off, his voice slithery as it trails over my skin. "I've seen them do it, seen them suck the life out of magical beings who dared to hide from them the way you have. Remember why you're here my darling, why you're still alive. I do all of this for you."
Sylleth stands and begins pacing while I continue making the elixir. With shaky hands, I grab a citrine stone from the shelf and place it in the glass with the rest of the concoction. Gently, I pick up the cup in my hands. My eyes float close as I concentrate on opening the gate to my magic and allowing it to flow into the citrine stone. The magic heats and fuses with the blood, imbuing the rest of the vial with it's healing properties. For a moment, the vial glows so bright, the contents are invisible. After the light fades, the citrine is gone and the elixir has turned to a pale yellow color as bubbles spring to the top.
The elixir fizzes as I pour it into a fresh vial and seal it with a cork. Turning to Sylleth, I hold out the vial without looking at him. Instead of taking it, he leans forward and grabs my chin, tilting my face up till I am looking into his deep, brown eyes.
"I want to keep you safe Naela, have I not done that? Have I not given you everything you need? Protected you from those who would try to hurt you?"
I swallow hard.
"You have."
"That’s why they must think the elixir is expensive to create, that's why they must assume it is from difficult-to-find ingredients with healing properties. If they knew our secret, you would be stolen, used, and discarded as if you are nothing," he says, his voice soft and dangerous. "You are helping people Naela. You help cure them, and I help you by keeping you safely in the shadows."
It's true, Sylleth rescued me from the gutter, a child begging on the streets. And if the crown learned what I can do...
"You're right, I'm sorry," I say softly.
I pull back but he tightens his grip on my chin. His face inches closer until I can feel his warm breath on my cheek.
"I want what's best for you Naela, what's best for us," he says. "Everyone who lives here, everyone who needs healing, they're counting on us. Don't get distracted, don't take your mind off our goal."
His voice is dangerous, a warning. He doesn't have to remind me what happens when I make him angry, when he thinks I have forgotten how the world treats people like me.
"Yes, Sylleth."
His face softens as he kisses me on the cheek.
"Good girl," he says. "Now, is it done?"
I hold up the vial and press it into his other hand.
Wordlessly, Sylleth leaves as I finally let out a shaky breath.
