Emerald's Fracture Read online

  The head medic squatted next to her, taking a pull from her own canteen. Natalie stared pointedly at the fire.

  “Thank you,” the medic said.

  Natalie blinked in surprise. “You’re welcome.”

  “Having competent help is always welcome around here. I didn’t recognize you as a Healer since you don’t have a green cloak.”

  Natalie looked down and picked at a piece of wood on the docks. “It’s a long story.”

  “Must be. Well,” the other woman levered herself to a standing position. “I’m Asha. If you’re staying here for a spell, we welcome your help anytime.”

  Natalie pressed her lips together in what she hoped was a smile. “Thanks.”

  Most of their patients walked home, under strict instructions to visit the medics so they could have their bandages changed. Only a few patients left the scene on stretchers carried by Asha and her team.

  Natalie watched them leave. The patients who still needed medical attention nagged at her conscious; they still needed her. And Asha said she’d be welcome. Why couldn’t she just follow along? She had nothing else to do here until word came from Anli’s team. She pushed to her feet, knees creaking after kneeling on the pier treating burns for so long.

  “Natalie, are you alright?”

  Turning, she saw the flames were out; Onlo was finished and the horses pulled the fire wagon off down the street.

  “I’m fine. No burns. You?”

  “Just fine. Why did you run toward the fire?”

  “People were on fire. I had to help them. What happened to start the fire anyway?”

  “Come, let’s walk back to the keep.”

  With one last wistful glance at the retreating medics, Natalie crossed her arms and walked with Onlo along the pier shops up the hill to Ebenos Point Keep.

  “That was a luthier’s shop that caught fire; his storage area in the back to be more specific. Someone was careless with a candle and with that much dry wood, the whole shop went up in seconds. It’s too bad, he’s a good luthier and often sells to the finest musicians on Methyseld. I hope he is able to recover his business soon.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Still, next time, let the fire crew and the medics help. I promised Jules I would keep you safe. I can’t do that if you are running toward flaming buildings.”

  Natalie stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Excuse me? About a week ago, you told me I could be a Healer no matter where I was. That I shouldn’t let Aldworth’s sentence define me. Do you take that back?”

  “Natalie, by all means, be a Healer wherever you’d like, just don’t run toward a burning building.”

  “Healers do run towards burning buildings. And cart crashes and buildings full of sick people because that’s where we Heal.”

  Onlo blew air out of his nose. “No. Stay out of danger while you are under my protection.”

  “So I shouldn’t let Aldworth define me as a Healer, but I should let you? Hypocrite.”

  Natalie stalked ahead of Onlo to the Keep. She could no longer Heal on Ismereld, nor it seemed, could she Heal here, not at least, as she saw fit. What was the point of being a Healer at all?

  Acknowledgements

  To Tammy who asked me when don’t I hurt. I don’t hurt when I write.

  To the artists who’ve inspired me throughout my life, especially Lin-Manuel Miranda who taught me to write my way out. To Felicia Day who not only stepped outside the system and created loads of amazing TV and media content, but also created the Vaginal Fantasy Book Club, through which I met my best friends.

  To my beta readers Sami, Erin, Melissa, Sue, and Billie: thank you for being the second pair of eyes I so desperately needed.

  To my street team for believing in me and my dream and spreading the word about this book. Y’all are amazing.

  To my editors, Katie McCoach and Stephanie Riva who taught more about writing and story craft than any book, website, or YouTube video ever could. I’m so grateful and I can’t wait to work on book two with you.

  To my book club for being the best friends a nerdy, Broadway-loving, MST3K-obsessed, movie-quoting mom could ever ask for.

  To my husband, daughters, mother, sister, and the rest of my family who’ve picked me up off the floor and set me to rights more times than I can count. You’ve been there for me when I’ve been bedridden and you’ve ridden the roller coaster of chronic illness with me. You’ve gone beyond the call of duty so many times. I am eternally grateful; I have been and always shall be yours.

  About the Author

  KATE KENNELLY started writing creatively when she was ten years old. She let a bad grade on a creative writing project in seventh grade get her down and stopped writing altogether. Many years later, now suffering from chronic pain, someone asked her “When are you not in pain?” The answer was “When I do creative things.” Kate challenged herself to sit down and write something – anything – for the therapeutic value. Thirteen chapters later, not only was she writing, but she was reading books on writing, watching YouTube videos, learning all she could to try and craft a good story.

  In her free time, Kate loves to Irish dance, play fiddle, do yoga, meditate and play World of Warcraft with her book club friends. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters and two rescue dogs.