Witches in Training (#2 in the Witches Trilogy) [rewrites ongoing]

Chapter Forty-Three: To Fight or not to Fight?

VERA

Kieran, being the best friend that he is, responds immediately to my telepathic message (or rather, my demand that he get back at once). He arrives carrying Emory, who's unconscious, and making me wonder if he's much stronger than I thought he was, since Emory is only a little smaller than he is, or if she's exceptionally light, or if he's using magic, or all three.

"Going back to the fairy kingdom?" I ask him casually.

He wrinkles his nose. "Me? Well... I guess, if no one else can do it. I was thinking of asking Lo-"

"No!" I cut him off before Louis can hear us talking about him. "No, no, you is good. You go. Bring Emory back. She needs the infirmary."

Kieran raises his eyebrows when he hears that. "Infirmary, huh? You've got another plan, don't you? You're going to get Sarah and you need me to heal her." Dang, he's good. Or I'm just blatantly transparent about my intentions.

"Well, yeah. It's not like I have anything else to do."

He frowns and shifts Emory's limp body a little. "Okay. There shouldn't be a risk in it."

"Great. Oh, and..." I slip something off my finger and hold it out to him. His ring. "This is yours, I believe."

He smiles faintly and manages to put it on again. "Thanks. Now let's go before anyone sees." I put my hand on his shoulder, and teleport away.

*

We land unevenly in the fairy castle infirmary. Kieran, who's apparently been here before, put the location into my head so I could visualise it. He gently puts Emory onto a bed while I prowl the wings looking for Sarah. I can hear his voice, soothing a now evidently woken Emory, who, judging by her hysterical voice, has not quite finished panicking over her time as Rachelle's puppet. 

I find Sarah asleep, her curly hair splayed on the pillow. There are shields and wards around her, whether to keep her in or keep things out I have no idea, but it doesn't stop me from stepping right up.

I reach out my hand and tap Sarah's shoulder. She twists and in a second, there's a blade sticking into my throat. My eyes widen and I lift my hands. She relaxes when she sees who I am, and withdraws the blade. Wait, no, it's not a blade. What I thought was a white knife is actually the pointed bone of her right pointer finger. I try very hard not to cringe as the skin closes up over the opening. Like wolverine. Except slightly less cool.

"Vera, I could've killed you." Sarah says, exasperated.

"Yeah, I realised."

She sinks back onto the bed and groans. "Damn, that hurts."

"Yeah, about that." I telepathically demand Kieran's presence (again) and he comes over, stepping across the wards warily. He looks down at Sarah.

"What was it?"

"Valkyrie poison. Not a lot of it. I think. I was kind of too passed out to tell."

Kieran whistles. "Don't get that a lot." He pulls out his knife. "But I should be able to do it."

Sarah holds up a hand, wincing, and narrows her eyes. "No offence, but I normally don't trust twelve year olds to heal me."

"I normally don't trust sixteen year olds to help change the tide of a battle." Kieran replies calmly.

"Touche." Sarah concedes, and pulls up the hem of her shirt slightly so the wound is exposed. She closes her eyes. "And don't tell me if it's going to hurt. Just get on with it." Kieran touches the tip of the knife over the wound like it's his new favourite healing tool and starts muttering again. Sarah's face scrunches up as the poison is drawn to the knife, concentrating momentarily in that patch of flesh, which starts steaming. Not pretty. Kieran's mouth is set in a determined line.