Chapter 32
Chapter
Thirty-Two
Freshly showered and wearing a set of gray dungarees loaned to her by one of the female crew members, Pip sat on one of the beds in the female ward of the sick bay on Rokyd’s ship.
One of the blue-garbed elf healers inspected the gash across Pip’s upper arm before adding a hint more magic. “This is healing nicely. It will be fully healed by tomorrow night. You will need rest, both to assist healing and to replenish your magic.”
Pip nodded, the exhaustion of the past day weighing on her. She hadn’t slept the night before, she’d had her magic partially drained, and she’d held two shields in place for several minutes, then a single shield under the onslaught of whatever annihilating magic Fieran and his dacha had unleashed.
But she had no plan to rest until she’d seen for herself that Fieran was all right. He’d passed out and had to be carried by Rokyd onto the small motorboat and from there onto the ship.
Fieran’s dacha had made it as far as the launch before he, too, had collapsed. Prince Edmund had been in little better shape, also needing to be more or less carried to the boat and onto the ship.
At least Rokyd’s shore party had assembled between the Mongavarians and Fieran, his dacha, and Prince Edmund so the only enemy who might have seen their weakness was the Mongavarian crown prince, whom they’d taken along as their prisoner to ensure continued cooperation until the official surrender terms could be signed.
Pip sat still while a nurse bandaged her arm, the picture of cooperation until the healers and nurses moved away.
Once no one was paying attention to her, Pip slid off the narrow hospital bunk and tiptoed to the door—hatch—of the female ward and peeked into the male ward, prepared to duck back if anyone inside wasn’t fully clothed.
Thankfully, all four of the men on the beds were dressed. Prince Edmund lay on the bed in the corner to her left, wearing a hospital gown with a white blanket pulled up to his chest. He had an intravenous drip attached to his arm, and his wounds already appeared better than they had an hour ago.
Wearing a set of gray dungarees, Prince Farrendel sat on the next bed beside Prince Edmund’s, facing him as the two of them talked in low tones. Prince Farrendel, too, had an intravenous saline drip.
Aaruk, the ogre lad that Prince Farrendel and Fieran had picked up during that long story she had yet to hear, was asleep on a bed across the way, tucked in beneath the blankets so that only his head was visible.
Fieran had the bed next to Aaruk’s and across from his dacha’s. He was also dressed in gray dungarees, his left arm held out stiff at his side because of his own saline drip. His eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling as if he was still asleep.
Prince Edmund’s quiet voice held a trace of a chuckle. “It was rather convenient of them to bring me to their palace, right where I wanted to go. They provided a place for me to stay and everything. You’d think they would have learned after last time.”
“That was quite foolish of them.” Prince Farrendel nodded almost sagely, that too blank expression on his face that hinted at the humor beneath.
Pip remained where she was, pressed against the solid metal of the bulkhead. She probably shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but she couldn’t get her legs to move. There was something strangely comforting in listening to Fieran’s dacha and uncle recount what had happened in such light tones.
“Yes. What else was I going to do but spy on them after they arranged everything so nicely for me?” Even after everything they’d been through, Prince Edmund’s grin was wide, despite the healing bruises. “And they brought you right to the Ludin facility.”
“They had me and Fieran pinned down to tables.” The faint hint of humor vanished from Prince Farrendel’s face.
“Ah.” Prince Edmund’s grin disappeared as well, something in his eyes holding knowledge—maybe a memory—that Pip didn’t comprehend. “What else could they expect but utter annihilation after doing something so foolhardy?”
“Indeed.” Prince Farrendel’s tone held a dark trace of humor.
After all she’d been through in the past week—and throughout this war—Pip understood that dark humor more than she would have a year ago.
Finally forcing her legs to move, she stepped into the ward. Prince Edmund’s gaze snapped to her while Prince Farrendel craned his neck to look over his shoulder without moving his left arm with its intravenous needle too much.
Pip paused at their two beds and gestured to Prince Edmund. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Or I will be in a day or two once the healing magic finishes.” Prince Edmund settled back against the pillow with a sigh. “I love healing magic.”
“And you? Are you all right?” Prince Farrendel regarded her with searching silver-blue eyes.
The old instinct to freeze swept through her, but it was only a heartbeat before the fatherliness in his gaze banished it.
Pip shrugged and rested a hand over the bandage on her arm. “I’m also fine. And also very thankful for healing magic.”
“Speaking of magic…” Prince Edmund’s grin returned in full force, cheery even with the blue-black bruises mottling his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be interested in a more permanent job with the Intelligence Office, would you? Your magic makes you uniquely suited to the job.”
More spying? No thank you. Pip resisted a shudder. She opened her mouth, trying to find the words to politely but firmly decline.
Prince Farrendel’s arms moved, as if he wanted to cross his arms but remembered the needle in his arm. “No.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to hire her at the AMPC.” Prince Edmund’s grin didn’t waver as he waved at Prince Farrendel.
“No, I do not want you corrupting my future daughter.” Prince Farrendel’s tone had returned to that hidden trace of humor once again.
Yet his words froze Pip in place as surely as the old hero-worship used to. Elves didn’t have a word for in-law, and those married into a family were simply referred to the same as those born into it.
Elves were also incredibly hesitant to claim familial relationships.
They usually waited to confirm a relationship until it was official, such as once a couple was betrothed or after they were married.
Sometimes not even then, as was the case with her elven grandparents.
To this day, they all but pretended Pip’s mother didn’t exist.
Her parents had defied both of their families to marry. They’d established a loving family despite all the hardships they’d faced. It was all incredibly romantic.
But there was also something special about not just finding a romance but also gaining a second family who embraced her as completely as her own parents and sibling did.
She probably should say something. Maybe hug Prince Farrendel. Something. Anything.
But she was still rooted to the spot. Nor, despite the claim, were either she or Prince Farrendel ready for father-daughter hugs just yet.
“Fine, fine. She’s off-limits.” Prince Edmund held up his hands, as if in surrender. Yet there was a twinkle in his eyes. As if he’d known his words would spur Prince Farrendel to such an admission and that, more than the offer, had been his point all along.
Pip cleared her throat, shifting a step back toward Fieran’s bunk. “I’m honored, but I’ve had all the spying I can swallow.”
“It isn’t for everyone.” Prince Edmund’s grin slipped slightly, his eyes going distant.
Perhaps his mind had gone to Jayna, the way Pip’s had. Pip halted in her retreat, lingering for one more question. “Do you think Jayna is all right?”
“Yes. She knows what to do.” Prince Edmund said the words with the underlying desperation of a father trying to convince himself of that. Weary lines joined the bruising on his face as he settled more fully against the pillow.
She should let them rest. With one last glance from Prince Edmund to Prince Farrendel, she turned and crossed the small space to Fieran’s bed.
As she approached, his eyes cracked open, his head turning toward her. When he spoke, his voice was laced with a hint of humor. “I was wondering how long you’d keep talking with my dacha and uncle before you actually got to me.”
“I wasn’t going to be rude.” Pip halted next to his head, his expression sending a twisting through her stomach and a catch in her chest. “Especially since your uncle was offering me a job. Which I turned down. I’ve had enough spying.”
“Good. You know I’ll support you in whatever you want to pursue, but spying would be a tough one.” Fieran’s grin faded as he pointed to where she’d been shot. “How’s the arm?”
“All patched up.” Pip held her arm slightly stiffly at her side. “And you?”
“Apparently, cauterizing a wound with the magic of the ancient kings makes it harder to heal later.” Fieran grimaced as he pressed a hand to his side before he gestured to the glass bottle holding the saline solution.
“And it turns out that you can’t cross a kingdom under the power of pure elfness without the consequences of dehydration and malnutrition.
But why aren’t you hooked up like the rest of us? ”
“Since I was sitting around in a dungeon, I stayed properly fed and hydrated.” Pip clasped and unclasped her fingers.
Should she reach for Fieran’s hand? “Although that would be Jayna’s doing, not the guards’.
If it was up to them, we would’ve been on one cup of water and a single piece of stale bread a day. ”
“Jayna was at Landri Castle?” Fieran’s gaze snapped to Prince Edmund, although the prince had returned to his low conversation with Prince Farrendel. “I assumed she was somewhere in Mongavaria, but I never guessed that she was embedded so deeply.”
“I hope she’s all right. Things got rather chaotic there.” Pip, too, glanced at Prince Edmund. There had been no time to find Jayna as they’d busted their way out of the castle, nor could they have talked with her without giving away that she was an Escarlish agent.