Chapter Twenty-Seven
The healer's cave is one of the closest to the Great Hall. Only Nerin's quarters separate them from the king's court. Serena pushes her way past beaded curtains, stepping inside. The cave is set on higher ground so that the tide never enters. Serena walks up a set of stairs carved into the incline. Moss that covers the stairs ceases to grow right where high tide stops.
Hailey Sage-Brush stands bent over a table, jarring dried herbs. In comparison to the drab colors of the plants in The Dry, and of the healer's cavern in general, Hailey's scales are a bright blue-green. It is exotic—the color of a tropical ocean.
The sheer amount of clutter in the cavern makes the space appear smaller, though it is five times the size of Serena's cave. There are lotions, salves, and more herbs covering every space. Thick stacks of books tower Serena. Even if the tide doesn't reach past the steps, the cave isn't nearly as damp-free as the archives, and the brittle pages of the books have long since yellowed and curled.
Deeper into the cave, a handful of assistants clean. Simone is easy to spot—her scales are some of the brightest red Society has ever seen.
"Serena…now this is a surprise," Hailey chirps. "I don't think you have ever set foot in my clinic." Hailey looks past Serena, as if she is expecting someone else. When no one appears, she stands, closing the lids on her jars at the table.
"Sit down, sit down," says Hailey. She motions to a cot set up on one side of the room and rolls a cart full of more jars to it. "Now, what seems to be the problem?"
Serena sits down, leans her trident against the cot, and crosses her arms. "It's my—"
"No, no—don't tell me. Let's see if I can guess." Hailey flutters around Serena, poking and prodding with sharp, beak-like fingers. "Short of breath?" Hailey bends Serena's neck so one side of gills are exposed. "Kelp indigestion?" Hailey pushes hard on Serena's gut.
Serena wheezes out.
"Hmm," says Hailey. "Maybe it is the breath."
"No, no," Serena stops Hailey's hands before they can bend her neck in the other direction. "It's just my toe."
"Oh," Hailey pauses, shoulders sagging. "Well, let's have a look then." She bends her knees to see. "What happened?"
"Wolfsbane," says Serena.
Hailey stands, taking a step back. "Wolfsbane?" She takes another step back, bumping into the cart of jars. "How did that happen?" Deeper into the cave, the assistants have all gone still, now straining their necks to see.
Serena furrows her eyebrows. "I'm the Werewolf Liaison."
"So?"
"So I have to protect myself somehow." Serena motions to her trident, leaning against the cot. "I use them on my weapon, and on the tree where I stay in The Dry."
Hailey's hands move back and jars clink together. "Can you just…get that thing out of here? All my patients have to sit there."
Serena sighs. Surely the swim here with the trident completely submerged in salty, cold ocean water, would have washed it clean of poison. "Listen, if you don't want me here…"
Hailey clicks her tongue. "No patient is turned away," she recites the healers motto, though it looks as though she wishes she could make an exception. She turns her head, snapping her fingers. The three assistants scurry forward. One sets a stool down in front of Serena, and Simone helps Hailey into a pair of gloves while the other approaches Serena's trident with a pair of clamps.
"Now then," Hailey begins pointing out jars with gloved fingers. "We'll need some Jimson weed, just a pinch of charcoal powder—a bit less, Simone, we don't want to kill the girl—yes that is it. And…" Hailey scans the jar labels with her eyes. "Some aloe for the burn. We'll treat the affliction inside and out," Hailey smiles down at Serena.
Serena swallows hard, staring at the charcoal being mixed in with a steaming mug of tea. The tea is passed to Hailey, who adds honey. She winks at Serena. "So it goes down easier." A quick stir, and Hailey holds out the cup.
Serena takes it, glancing from the healer to each one of her assistants. They are all watching.
"Cheers." Serena throws her head back, finishing the entire cup in one gulp.
The assistants all lean forward with wide eyes.
"Okay, you three—you've done quite enough. Back to work." Hailey shoos them away. "Sorry about that," she tells Serena, taking the cup from her. "They are a quick study when it comes to books, but have much to learn about bedside manners."
Hailey bends to study Serena's swollen toe, though she keeps her distance. "I'll just put some Aloe vera oil over the wound. We'll let it breathe tonight and tomorrow morning the swelling should be down enough to wrap it."
"Will everything go back to normal?" asks Serena.
"You've already transformed into fins and back without problem?"
"Yes," answers Serena.
"Good, good," says Hailey. She uses a sponge to apply the oil. "You'll no longer be able to grow scales there, of course."
"Wait—no scales? Do you mean, like, for the rest of my life?" Serena pulls her toe away from the oiled sponge.
"It's just on the tip of your toe, dear. Hardly something to be concerned about." Hailey stands, discarding the sponge and her gloves in a small bag, and double knotting the bag's opening.
"It is when I'm running around with wolves," Serena grumbles, getting up from the cot. "I need every bit of armor I can get."
Hailey's eyes go soft, as does her voice. "You really are doing this, aren't you?"
Serena looks at her. She wasn't aware there was ever any doubt. Serena is not a good liar.
Hailey lays a hand on Serena's shoulder, right where Liam did. It is surprisingly warm. "Scales are not the greatest defense against fangs or claws, dear."
"How do you know?" asks Serena, glancing over Hailey's bright teal scales.
Hailey shrugs. "Look at the king. I've been treating him every day since the Maiden's Massacre." Hailey lets her hand drop. "He's had a rough go of it, but he can at least swim normally now."
Hailey sits down on the old cot, and motions for Serena to do the same. "I was supposed to be selected for mating that night, too."
Serena nods. "You were in my mom's caste."
Hailey smiles, her eyes wandering to the cave floor in front of them.
"Why weren't you selected?"
Hailey looks down at her hands. There is at least two rings on each finger. She twists one of the rings around her knuckle.
"I was only an Assistant Healer at the time—you wouldn't remember the Healer. She died shortly after that massacre. A lot of Undine did in the battles that took place after the fact. Once there were hardly any males to send, the maidens—even the elderly maidens—took up arms. Anyway, I remember she kept warning me about the dangers of mating. You know—the pregnancy, the birth. And everyone knew the werewolves had been on edge about their role in our lives."
Serena looks down at her own fingers. They have plenty of scratches, but are bare of jewels.
Hailey continues, "She scared me too much. When time came for the mating selection, I avoided eye contact and made it clear I did not want to go. The male Undine left me alone." Hailey smiles, her gaze drifting off and her eyes glazing over. "It's funny, it still stung that I wasn't chosen. Even after the Maiden's Massacre. I am grateful, of course, but I’ve always been disappointed that I wasn't whisked off by Murphy, head of the King's Guard." Hailey looks at Serena out of the corner of her eye, and clears her throat. "A daydream common to most of us."
"Is that so?" Nerin's voice rings throughout the cluttered cave.
One of the assistants drops a bucket. It clatters across the floor. All three scramble to get it up, shushing each other as they do.
"Yes," says Hailey, standing and clearing her throat. "At least back then. Greetings, Nerin."
Nerin nods in return without a smile to her face.
Hailey flutters her hands. "Well, I must get back to my concoctions. The king needs his medicine."
"Thank you, Hailey," Serena says, shifting on the cot at the sud
den tension in the room. "The king is lucky to have you."
"He is lucky to have physical wounds that can be tended to," says Hailey. She glances at Nerin. "It's the emotional suffering that is most difficult to treat."
"Indeed," agrees Nerin, her voice softening. She looks at Serena. "It takes a strong person to rule this kingdom, inside and out."
"Of course," Serena attempts to stand.
"No need to get up," Nerin crosses to the cot and sits. The heat Hailey left behind, warming Serena's side, retreats.
In a way, Serena finds the cold comforting. It reminds her of her cave, and the deeper, secluded parts of the ocean.
"You are doing well with your punishments, Serena. I don't want you to think that it goes unnoticed by the king."
Glancing at Nerin, Serena wonders how much Nerin will divulge when the king isn't by her side. "The punishments seem…harsh. I mean, I'm grateful you declined the death penalty, of course," Serena says quickly. "It's just…" Serena rubs the edge of the cot with her fingers.
"What?" Nerin snaps.
"Am I the sacrifice the wolves want?" Serena blurts out the question that has been on her mind ever since she witnessed the meeting between her king and Alaric.
Nerin sucks in a breath, staring straight ahead. "What do you know about it?"
"I saw King Merrick and Alaric talking," says Serena. "The entire guard was there. It can't be that big of a secret, except to me," she mumbles the last few words. "He was concerned about whether King Merrick would follow through on a promise he made. The deadline is apparently coming up soon."
Nerin's eyes drop to the floor, and her shoulders sag. "Yes, yes the deadline is coming. One full moon cycle, to be exact." Nerin looks at Serena, eyebrows raised. "Can you think of something else that will occur during the full moon after next?"
Serena purses her lips, the only future her mind is on is her next punishment.
"Some kind of big…anniversary," prods Nerin.
"Oh, the Maiden's Massacre," says Serena.
Nerin nods her head. "The anniversary of the Maiden's Massacre, and your birthday."
"Right, but I don't—" Serena cuts off, her eyes going wide. "What does it have to do with me?"
Nerin stands, folding her hands in front of her and pacing the room. "The night of the massacre, a few choices had to be made, none of which suited the Undine species, but we weren't exactly in a position to bargain, either. When the king came ashore, you were the only infant left alive—he begged the wolves to spare you."
Serena stares at Nerin, transfixed.
Nerin stops pacing to face Serena still sitting on the cot. "The wolves agreed to let you leave with the king—on one condition." Nerin holds up her finger. "That you be returned to the pack on your eighteenth birthday."
"Why?" blanches Serena.
"I don't know. It is between the king and the wolves, and the reason has never been shared with me. Once you are delivered, the wolves say they will allow the maidens ashore again. Chasing us back to The Deep for eighteen long years is their insurance that the king will follow through with his promise."
"So will he?" Serena stands, stepping toward Nerin.
"Will he allow his own kingdom to die out just to save one girl?" Nerin arches her eyebrow at Serena.
Serena stays silent, the consequences of either decision settling hard in her stomach like an iron anchor hitting the seafloor.
Nerin's face softens, the hard lines around the corners of her lips disappear. She walks over to Serena, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I honestly don't think he knows yet."