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The healer frowned at me and gestured at the injured leg. “We have to take it off, of course. Healing it is out of the question. You saw that for yourself. But I’m hopeful you have the strength to heal an amputation site, at least.”
“Take off the leg?” I stared at her, appalled. “But she’s only a child!”
I had heard of the phenomenon before but had never actually seen someone without a limb. It was only those whose limbs were crushed in the remotest locations who needed such drastic treatment. Usually healers could keep the person and the limb alive long enough to reach a hospital.
“It’s true I’ve never done it before,” the healer admitted, “but those of us without the strength to heal wounds outright learn wound management you mages don’t need. Many of the same principles will apply.”
“Wise mages learn all aspects of their ability,” said a familiar voice, and my shoulders slumped with relief.
Amara had arrived, and I no longer had to bear the burden of this situation alone. I turned to her with a look that felt as wild as the other healer’s expression when she couldn’t stem the blood loss.
“They want to remove her leg!” I exclaimed.
“So I deduced.” Amara frowned, taking in the situation more fully. “You weren’t able to heal the leg?”
There was no judgment in her voice, but I felt guilt all the same.
“I don’t understand why not. It was like her body was…resisting me.”
I modified my language, avoiding mention of my power burning through the girl like fire. I had learned in Caltor that other healers didn’t sense their power in the same way, and some were unnerved by such language. Amara would understand, since it was the influence of her elements power that had likely made me this way, but I didn’t want to confuse Esme, who was listening intently.
“I didn’t realize Delphine was such a new apprentice, or I would have warned her when she arrived,” Esme said, interjecting into the conversation. “If she had started training on elderly patients, she’d have recognized it easily enough. But that’s usually left until second year.”
Amara’s face crumpled, compassion filling her eyes. “She’s been sick?”
The mother gave a soft, hiccupping sob. “From when she was three until she was eight. A blood disease. We had to travel to Caltor so many times because it kept coming back. But she’s been clear for four years, and the doctor said it was finally defeated. It took three of them working together the last time, though. When she gets ill with all the normal childhood ailments, we have to keep her home instead of sending her to the healer like the other parents do. She can’t do anything for her…” Her words dissolved into further sobbing.
I swallowed, finally understanding what I had been so slow to grasp. Although Luna had done some work with the elderly in Tarona, Hayes had planned those lessons for when I was occupied with Amara. New apprentices didn’t work on the elderly because over time the body developed resistance to healing power. It was that resistance that meant even the most powerful healers eventually died. And the same effect could be caused by excessive healings.
The more a person had been healed—and the more extreme the healings—the harder it became to heal them. It was usually only a problem for soldiers who had experienced many years of training injuries and battle wounds, and for those who suffered from a small number of deadly illnesses that couldn’t be cured by a single healing—the type that kept recurring as had happened to this girl.
Still…I shuddered to think how many healings she must have had to develop such intense resistance at such a young age.
“Is amputation really the only option?” Amara directed the question at Esme.
She pulled herself to her feet, groaning slightly as if she was too old to be kneeling on a hard road.
“When Delphine arrived, I briefly hoped…But it can’t be helped. Better to lose her leg than her life.”
I expected Amara to argue, to come up with some solution none of us had thought of. But instead she merely nodded, her lips thinning as she cast a sorrowful glance at the girl lying in her mother’s lap.
“No!” I said stubbornly. “We can’t! There has to be a way.”
Amara sighed. “Perhaps there is. But I’m no healer. If there’s an answer, I don’t know what it is.” She moved closer, her voice dropping lower. “I’m sorry, Delphine. I truly am. But this girl still needs saving, and the local healer clearly can’t do it on her own.”
Her eyes were sympathetic and understanding, but there was no give in her gaze. I had to be part of this whether I liked it or not.
I looked to the mother, thinking I’d have an ally in her, at least. If she protested, refused to give her permission, insisted someone ride for Caltor…
The father pushed through the crowd, his eyes leaping from his daughter’s face to his wife’s. She looked up at him with a tremulous smile, tears still streaking down her face.
“She’s alive. This girl saved her.”
The father almost collapsed in relief, the healer catching him under one arm and steadying him.
“We’ll need to organize some of the men to carry her to my rooms. I believe this apprentice has sufficient strength to keep her alive once I remove the leg.”
I expected the father to exclaim and reject the idea, and his face did flicker, his features sagging. But a moment later, he forced a smile, giving his wife what was clearly meant to be a look of strength.
