Mermaid Tear (The Fated #2)

05 | Aftermath

Three Weeks Ago

The next hour was a hazy mess.

Pain and exhaustion kept Kain on the edge of consciousness as he and the rest of his group were ushered to Isidor's shop. Makeshift cots were shoved into the room as injured soldiers joined them. Kain was coaxed into laying on his stomach by a muffled-voice stranger who cursed at the sight of his back. They shoved a bottle in his hand, claiming he would need it for the pain. Isidor had too many people to heal to focus on Kain who was hurt, but not dying.

His awareness wavered as time flickered by. Before he knew it, the bottle was half empty and the world was spinning. Then, suddenly, Isidor was at his side, hands emitting a soft gold.

"M-Melitta," Kain gasped as pain raced through his back. "How--is Melitta okay?"

"Which one was that?" Isidor questioned dryly as he worked. His words, too, felt off. Was there something wrong with Kain's ears? "You had a handful of injured come in with you."

His mental picture of her flashed through his thoughts. "She has long, pretty blonde hair. Deep eyes. Soft hands. Nice. Fri--"

"You could've just said the merfolk," Isidor interrupted with a scoff.

"...oh. Yeah. Her."

There was a pause as the witch continued working, the unspoken answer hanging in the heavy hair. Then, he sighed.

"She's as good as can be expected. I closed the wounds on her back. It'll scar, there was no avoiding that, but she won't bleed out. Don't expect her to be awake anytime soon. The merfolk need the moon and the sea to completely recover from injuries. And, currently, only one of those is an option, and it won't be out for hours yet."

The words struggled to sink into Kain's swirling mind. He realized he was still holding the bottle he'd been handed, and very carefully placed it on the floor next to him. Whatever was in that bottle had to have been strong, because it took conscious thought to not fumble the simple action.

"The ocean."

Kain slowly pulled up a fuzzy map in his head. If they took a risk and detoured to the coast, it should only take them a few days of travel. Well, that was if they could move at the speed from before.

It would mean abandoning Iliana, at least for now. By the time they returned, her trail would be cold.

The thought cut deep. But, was chasing her more important than his companions' health? What was the worth of one life versus another? They were equal, weren't they? Whether it was Iliana, his closest friend of three years, or Melitta, someone he'd known for just over a month, shouldn't he do his best for both of them?

"If you're thinking of making a trip, you are in a trade town," Isidor said as he lightly touched Kain's back. It hurt, but not as much as it should have. The witch must have healed his burns. "I'm sure you'd have no shortage of folks willing to help you out given the name you just established for yourself."

Isidor shifted his attention to Kain's head, coaxing him with surprisingly gentle hands to turn his face, resting one of his ears on the cot and exposing the other for the witch's attention.

"Where were you all headed before all this happened?"

The liquor must have loosened his tongue, or perhaps his slip was caused by the fact Isidor had done nothing but help them. Either way, concealing the truth didn't even occur to Kain as the answer fell from his lips without a conscious thought about the whole issue.

"We were chasing a friend of mine. She's been taken, and they were going over the mountains, to Reotak."

Isidor clicked his tongue. "Slavers?"