AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I sigh, shifting my feet in his lap. Prince Rinan makes a strange sound, but I keep my focus on the book. It’s actually one of my favorites. It’s a series of tales following some of the most powerful witches in our history, chronicling their journeys through the darkest days of our people. Like the Grey Death, an illness that swept through the human men in our lands. We never found a cure for it, not exactly. What we found was ways to ease the worst of the symptoms, which led to many more survivors. And, eventually, we learned how to help contain the disease, even though it didn’t always work.
It worked enough though, and now the deaths of our people from it are few and far between. Like the illness that killed my father.
There’s a flash in my mind of his pale face. Of blood on his lips. Of his labored breathing, and me, a little kid, sitting beside him on the bed. My heart races and my hands feel sweaty. Those days are over. Don’t think about it.
Prince Rinan's voice interrupts my thoughts. “Anything yet?” His voice is a mix of hope and impatience.
I hold up a finger and shush him without looking up. The instant I realize what I’ve done, I feel my cheeks burning, but it’s too late. I’d already shushed a shifter prince. Okay, yet another thing I can’t take back. The thing is, I’d just gotten to the best part, when Eleanor Vansula used her magic to separate the parts of the body internally to see what was going wrong. She used spells, many, many spells, delicately to figure it out, but that was just the beginning of what Eleanor did in her life.
I remember now. What an epic journey.
Her story was helpful in that it reminded me of the many small things I can do to help the sick or injured, but it isn’t entirely what I need to figure out our current problem. Eleanor had used her powers to cure a human illness, not a shifter one… nor one caused by magic. I would have to handle things entirely differently from Eleanor if the shifters’ illness really was caused by a witch.
But first, to figure that out.
“Prince Rinan?”
“Yes?” He sounds amused.
I shift my feet in his lap, and he gives a little groan before I continue. “What are the symptoms the shifters are experiencing?”
His expression becomes graver. “First, they begin to cough. Then, they feel weak. Next, they have body aches and pains and have trouble getting out of bed. Then, their appetite disappears, their coughing grows more intense, and their weakness becomes worse, which results in extreme weight loss. Finally, they start coughing blood, and then… they die.”
It’s hard to hear, but it helps. “Thank you. That’s what I needed to know.” My brain keeps working. “And what are you doing that’s helping to stop the spread of the illness?”
His beautiful face looks troubled. “We’re trying to keep the sick separated from the healthy, but nothing seems to be slowing the number of people infected. If anything, the numbers are increasing daily. That’s what all the messengers have been about. They’re bringing reports from all over the Shifter Kingdom about the sick.”
Damn. “So, if separating the sick isn’t helping, the illness might not be spreading from person to person?”
“Right, but because we’re not sure, we’re still keeping them separated.”
I think. “And are the young now contracting it as easily as the elders are?”
He shakes his head. “The elders are still the majority of the sick.”
It seems… so random. Like none of the illnesses that have struck the witches or the human males. It just doesn’t make sense.
“What a strange illness,” I murmur.
He nods and focuses back on his rowing.
Realizing I need to keep going, I flip until I find Darla Hulara, a specialist in all things magical. I start to scan the many different magical things that could make a supernatural sick. Nothing describes what the shifters are experiencing. Damn it. Inside I’m grappling with frustration. Finding the cause of this widespread illness is like searching for a needle in a haystack.
My eyes connect with Prince Rinan’s, and I sigh.
He lifts a brow.
“It’s just so frustrating.”
“What?” he asks. My gaze moves to his arms. He’s rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, and the sight of his muscles is a little distracting.
I swallow around the sudden dryness in my throat. “There are so many ways to cause illness in a person, even a community, but a whole kingdom?” I shake my head.
“It’s not very common?” His voice is nice, deep and surprisingly soothing.
What’s with me today?
“No, not common at all.”
