Emerald's Fracture Read online

  This publication is a work of fiction. The names, characters and events in this publication are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Emerald Light Press

  Copyright © 2018 by Kate Kennelly

  All rights reserved. Neither this publication, nor any parts within it, may be sold or reproduced in any form without permission of the author.

  Cover Art by Chrissy H. at damonza.com

  Editing: KM Editorial, LLC

  Map designed with Inkarnate

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  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Sneak Preview of “Sunstone’s Secret”

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Dedication

  In memory of my father, who read every single story I wrote when I was a little girl

  Q

  “Hold tight, Abuela, if you’re up there

  I’ll make you proud of everything I know!

  Thank you, for everything I know.”

  - In the Heights (Lyrics: Lin-Manuel Miranda)

  Chapter 1

  R

  I

  n the darkest hours of the night, Natalie Desmond rushed to the Abbey hospital, her dog, Jake, trotting behind her. “Good Goddess, why isn’t the hospital closer to our rooms? I’ll be lucky if the patient doesn’t die before I get there.” Jake glanced up at her, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Entering the hospital at last, she spotted a familiar face, her good friend, Emmeline Arnold. “Em, Headmistress Gayla summoned me to treat a burn patient. Do you know which bed?”

  Em turned from her own patient and nodded to the far hospital wall. “Bed twenty-four.”

  “Thanks,” Natalie whispered. White knuckles gripping her satchel full of herbs, she walked through the room, careful not to disturb the other patients and Healers. In the four months since the war started, she’d kept careful watch on all the wounded who arrived at the hospital, waiting for the return of Healer Juliers Rayvenwood.

  Could he be in twenty-four? She kept her eyes on the bed in question as she approached, searching for a glimpse of short, dark wavy hair and the familiar face with its high cheekbones. She swallowed, pushing her heart back out of her throat.

  Reaching the bed, she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Long, sleek black hair and tan skin met her gaze. Juliers was still out there, in the war. Natalie covered her mouth with her hands and willed the tears away. By the Five, please let me be able to Heal this man. And please keep Juliers safe and sound.

  Moving to the head of the bed, she rested a hand gently on the patient’s forehead. “Hello, I’m Natalie, and I am a Healer. I’m going to take a look at your injuries now.” After washing her hands, Natalie examined her patient for other visible injuries besides the severe burns along his left arm and torso, gingerly turning his body this way and that to make sure she didn’t miss anything. What’s going on out there in the war that would result in burns such as these? Is Juliers in the same danger?

  Not spotting anything more than charred, blistered skin, she pulled a chair to the head of the bed, sat, and placed both her hands on the man’s shoulders. It was time to see what maladies Naming would reveal. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Though she’d done this hundreds of times, she still marveled as energy rose from the Isle’s ley lines and coursed into her body without effort.

  For student Healers, accessing the rivers of magic—or ley lines—emanating from the tall emerald megalith in the middle of the Isle required a lengthy grounding meditation. Now a full Healer, Ismereld Isle’s energy flowed into Natalie with ease. She directed it through her hands and into the burn patient before her. In her mind, a ghostly blue image of her patient formed as her energy sought and penetrated every corner of his body except the burns on his skin. Adjusting her hands and cocking her head a bit, she could tell the burns were severe but not as deep as she’d first feared.

  “A solenloe poultice will have you right as rain, my friend,” Natalie informed the unconscious man, opening her eyes. She went to the hospital’s herbal stock room that, due to the war Lorelan started with the Isles a few months ago, contained copious amounts of solenloe leaf, which was used to treat burn patients.

  “I still don’t understand why Lorelan started a war with us this year after centuries of peace,” she grumbled to Jake, who had followed her to the stock room. She counted out the appropriate amount of leaves. “And Juliers volunteered to go to war? It just doesn’t seem like the thing he would do.” She’d said as much to her friends over the past few months, but even after some lively conversations about current politics between the Isles and Lorelan, it still didn’t sit right in Natalie’s mind.

  Jake cocked his head, having no more answers than she.

  Natalie placed the solenloe leaves on a nearby worktable and vented her frustrations by mashing the large, thick, dark green leaves into a viscous, gooey mess. She scraped this onto a clean cloth and carried it to her burn victim, then spread the leaf mash along his burns and covered them with clean cloths. She returned to her chair at the head of the bed and closed her eyes. Warm tingling filled her hands as the Healing energies of the two-thousand-year-old emerald megalith, wielded by her, melded with and Activated the solenloe on her patient’s skin, intensifying the leaves’ effect. The man’s inherent energy grew and strengthened under the ministrations of the Healing energy and herbs—exactly what she wanted. The Activation finished, Natalie slumped back in her chair, wiped her forehead on her sleeve, and then pressed her hands to the small of her back.

  Natalie moved her chair to bed twenty-four’s side. This was the worst part of any treatment—waiting. She hoped her patient would regain consciousness within the next hour. She took the time to study the man she’d Healed. He was short but sturdy, with a few days’ worth of beard growth on his chin. His sleek black hair and olive skin indicated he originated from the northern part of the main continent. He must be an Islander now, though, if he’d been brought to the Abbey. She peered under the bed and spotted a black cloak amongst his belongings. He was an Attuned of the Isle of Obfuselt, another one of the five Isles just south of Ismereld. “
We’ll have you up and back to your Isle soon, sir.”

  An hour later, Natalie rose from her chair to check the poultices. She peeked under one to find the burn underneath appeared much better. She placed her palm on her patient’s forehead. He was feverish. “Hell in a kettle!” She bit her lip. Had infection set in? Holding her breath, she removed all the cloths, wincing as the man moaned. Everything seemed well on the mend; only the worst burns still showed signs of needing more time. She pressed gently on the edges of the burns; no pus, so no infection. Natalie swore under her breath and slumped in her chair.

  Sighing, she ran her fingers through the hair that had fallen out of her braid and pressed it to her head. Letting her hands fall to her lap, she pushed herself out of the chair and paced back and forth beside the bed.

  “I’m missing something. Come on, Nat, think.” Natalie went to one of the many windows lining the hospital wall and ached to breathe in the crisp spring air on the other side of the glass. Instead, she rested her head against the window frame and stared out at the moon. “I must’ve missed something during the Naming,” she told the moon and closed her eyes.

  “You can’t fail this man. You can’t fail Headmistress Gayla. You have to figure it out.” Naming an illness or injury always ate at Natalie’s confidence. An illness must be accurately Named before herbs would truly help heal the patient. Herbs weren’t a problem—plants spoke to her. Natalie fancied they whispered how to grow them best, how they could help and how she should prepare them. It was easy as breathing for Natalie to prepare an herb to treat an illness. Though the Abbey staff regarded her as one of the best Namers, in her opinion, Healer Juliers had always been the best Namer—her Naming teacher, in fact, five years ago when she first attended the Abbey as a student.

  Natalie had learned more from Healer Juliers than she had from any other Abbey teacher. She’d watched as he’d laid his strong, confident hands on the sick and injured. Their bodies and their illnesses spoke to him the way herbs spoke to Natalie. And when he’d placed his hands on hers to show her new Naming skills … she sucked in a breath. Well, that was something best left alone. She’d been thirteen and he twenty. She a student and he a teacher. It had been a schoolgirl infatuation. That was all.

  But now, she longed for his skills and confidence. She could picture his wide, capable hands with their long fingers as he placed them upon her patient’s body. Juliers would find the problem, she was certain.

  She shook her head. Juliers wasn’t there. She glanced around the hospital, the thought of having someone else Name the patient flitting across her mind. No, this patient was hers. Besides, she shouldn’t need anyone to double-check her. She would simply have to repeat the Naming process.

  Sitting at the head of the bed once again, Natalie drew a shaky breath and began. Once more her energy flowed effortlessly into her patient’s body, stopping, as she expected, at the burn sites. She clenched her fists to stop herself from banging them on the bedside when every sensation, every image in her mind was the same as before.

  Biting her lip, she adjusted her hands and tried to ignore the trickles of sweat between her shoulder blades. She paid particular attention to the energy surrounding the burns; the shape and feel of it. She observed the boundaries between where the solenloe poultice had helped and where the burns were still healing. Head bent forward and a cramp forming in her back, Natalie waited to spot any differences from her first examination. Then, like stars materializing at twilight, three small, separate shadows appeared in his side in one of the worst parts of the burns. Either those were pockets of infected burn … or shrapnel.

  Scrambling out of her chair, she grabbed her satchel and removed her surgery and suture kit. She placed everything next to the patient’s side. Now for pain management. Thankfully, Em was still there and currently unoccupied.

  Em noticed her attention. “Need help?”

  Natalie nodded. “Can you keep him sedated while I remove shrapnel from his side?”

  “Absolutely.”

  With brisk efficiency, the two women prepared for minor surgery.

  “We’re getting a little too good at this,” Natalie commented as they washed their hands.

  Em snorted. “I’m a midwife. I’m still wondering what I’m doing stitching up wounds in the hospital.”

  “All hands on deck when the going gets rough.” Though she knew Em missed being a midwife exclusively, Natalie couldn’t help but feel selfishly happy to be spending more time with her best friend. Since passing to full Healer status, their respective careers had made it hard to find time together. Sometimes Natalie longed to be a student again when most of her days had been spent in Em’s company and there hadn’t been a war showing her the worst of humanity every day.

  Em scrubbed her hands with soap. “How many casualties do you think they bring in a day from the port triage in Roseharbor?”

  Natalie dried her hands on a clean towel. “It must be close to twenty or thirty. Lorelan has never managed to invade the Isles by land, for which I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. But it’s hard to see all the people lying in this room who pay the price for it.”

  Em shot her friend a look Natalie was all too familiar with. “How are you holding up, Nat?”

  Natalie finished using the towel, her gaze intent on her hands. “I’m fine. Let’s get to work.”

  Returning to the burn victim’s bedside, Em covered the wounded man’s face with a mask, into which flowed a controlled amount of fidelia weed smoke that would keep him unconscious.

  “Ready,” Em stated.

  Natalie nodded, cleaned the area, selected a scalpel and began. Using her memories from Naming, she knew approximately where to look for the first piece of shrapnel. She made a small incision, cleaned fluids out of the way, and a victorious grin appeared on her face when her efforts revealed a small, dark piece of wood. Natalie removed the splinter and repeated the process for the other two wounds. She cleaned each hole and packed them with garlic paste to kill and prevent further infection, and then applied new solenloe poultices. She Activated the garlic mixtures and new poultices, her energy gliding in and around the wounds and her herbal applications. The harmony between the two resonated such that her heart felt full and the sides of her mouth curled up. Lifting her hands from her patient, she placed them on her heart and took a deep breath. She’d done her best by this man. Hopefully she—well, that would be enough.

  Thanking Em, she wearily took a seat next to her patient’s good side and held his hand. Jake came over and, with her permission, jumped on the bed and lay at the man’s feet. Natalie was back to the worst part—waiting.

  Chapter 2

  R

  L

  ate the next morning, after sleeping in and availing herself of a bath, Natalie swirled her green Healer’s cloak about her shoulders and skipped down the spiral staircase to the first floor of the Abbey. She strode toward the Headmistress’s office, Jake trotting behind her. The Headmistress oversaw not only the school and its students, but also the activities of the Abbey Healers.

  Natalie entered the Headmistress’s office and opened the thick leather-bound volume in which each Healer logged their patients, treatments and any new, useful observations. She selected a quill, dipped it in the ink and began her notes. Her quill hovered above the parchment as she struggled to describe her experience with Naming her burn patient’s injuries.

  The return of the Headmistress startled Natalie out of her reverie. “How is your patient in bed twenty-four?”

  “Much better. He should make a full recovery soon,” Natalie replied. Frowning, she told the Headmistress about her difficulties Naming his injuries and how she’d missed the wooden shrapnel the first time around.

  The Headmistress put her strong, wrinkled hand on Natalie’s shoulder. “And that’s how we learn, my dear. Excellent work.”

  Natalie shook her head. “I should have—”

  “Come, have a seat.” The Headmis
tress sat behind her desk, and Natalie took a seat in the overstuffed red chair in front of it, Jake curling up in a ball at her feet. “Would you like some tea?”

  Natalie nodded her head and the Headmistress poured tea into Natalie’s favorite teacup—a delicate china one with various plant specimens painted on it. Natalie’s fingers wrapped around the familiar cup, and she savored the tea’s delicious scent.

  Headmistress Gayla sat and blew on her own tea to cool it. “Healers walk a difficult road. We often find ourselves isolated. As you know from your time in the hospital, even when surrounded by other Healers, one often ends up working alone. It’s why we teach all students to Name and Heal patients without the assistance of other Healers. This, naturally, requires quite a bit of confidence.

  “I, of all people, know why you doubt yourself. But remember, in that patient’s case, there was nothing even an experienced Healer could’ve done. Good Healers think on their feet and look for the hidden amongst the ordinary. You have great ability, love. Trust it.”

  Natalie willed the tears pricking her eyes not to spill over. Goddess knows the Headmistress had seen her cry in her office often enough. If only trusting herself was as easy as just saying the words. Unfortunately, the dragon of self-doubt perched on her shoulders, its claws firmly dug in. Natalie stared at her tea and said nothing.

  “I thought you’d look like that.” Headmistress Gayla folded her arms and smiled like a cat about to pounce on a mouse. “I’m due at the hospital in a few minutes, but before I go, I have a request. Healer Giles is getting married and moving to Roseharbor in one week. Since the new semester is starting soon, that leaves me without an Introduction to Naming professor. I would like you to take her place. You have a lot to offer as a Naming teacher and I think our newest students will gain much by learning from you.”