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He wraps his arm over Ada’s shoulder, steering her toward Connak and me. “On Earth we call it talk and die syndrome... Some patients don’t show any outward signs until it’s too late. You healed her injuries; her family will be grateful for that. But you can’t heal a weak heart.”
“Her grandfather was sickly, too,” I report to Ada and Raf. “We couldn’t save him either.”
“You have to separate yourself, Ada,” Raf softly instructs. “As much as it hurts, you have to look at the medicine and leave the emotions for later.”
“How do you do this every day?” she whispers.
“We don’t,” I enlighten her. “Raf did on Earth; he worked in the trauma department. But here? This doesn’t happen every day.”
Ada looks at each of us before settling the weight of her worried hazel gaze on Connak and me. “It will, though... Won’t it?”
“Why would it?” Raf asks, head tilting as he tries to understand her question.
“When war starts—” Ada wipes her cheeks dry with a clean cloth on the counter and sniffles, attention lost over my shoulder. “This is what it will look like.”
“But more,” Selmar adds from behind me. “We won’t be able to save everyone, and that is a reality we must all face. We will lose both family and strangers, young goddess. It’s time to think about how we will keep track of who is kin to who, so it’s easier to reach out in times of despair.”
“We don’t know who these Mongrels are?” I ask.
“I know them,” Selmar tells us. “They’re fishermen, but between trips, they stay a few houses away from me.”
Ada takes a step closer to the good doctor. “Their family—”
“They had no one else,” he explains. “The elder man’s daughter died a few years back from a mysterious illness that has lingered in their family lineage. All he had was his granddaughter and her father.”
“He was sick, too,” she states, her lips tilting in the most mournful frown I’ve ever seen.
Selmar gives her a sad smile. “He knew. We had spoken about it on many occasions. He was prepared.”
“Did she know?” Ada inquires.
“She knew as well, but she never let it stop her from the adventures.” Selmar steps forward and takes Ada’s hand. “Death comes for us all, my dear. The young are no exception. They lived a full life with little contrition. It’s a lesson we should all take to heart.”
16
ADELAIDE
DAY SIXTY-EIGHT
My mind has been a cyclone for two days. I need advice, but I’m pretty sure I know what Isolde and the guys will say. So, I start my morning looking for the queen’s consorts, but something keeps pulling me toward the clinic.
As soon as I see Selmar and Raf, I know this is where I need to be, who I need to speak with.
“Ada,” Selmar greets. “Imryll isn’t here.”
“He’s meeting me here in a bit,” I explain, fidgeting with the hem of my sheer skirt. “Actually, I came hoping to talk to one of you. I’m happy you’re both here.”
“Is something wrong?” Raf asks, setting a basket of supplies on the counter to give me his full attention.
“No. Well, yes,” I backtrack, untangling my fingers from my skirt to run them through my hair. “But not medically. I mean, maybe not at all. I’m just—”
Raf points at a chair. “Take a seat, unless you would prefer an exam room?”
“No. Here is fine,” I say, dropping into the closest chair in the waiting room with no grace.
“What would you like to talk about?” Selmar inquires slowly, observing my body language.
I flounder for an eloquent way to ask my question, but I just can’t think of an approach that doesn’t make me feel like a lost puppy trying to verbalize what I don’t quite understand.
