Chapter 86
MYRA
Only Theenah and Gerald were allowed inside Dani’s tent. Everyone else, including Sylvia and Moris, waited anxiously outside. Some soldiers patrolled the camp, hoping to keep any unwanted visitors away. Many soldiers brought back injured comrades, keeping the other healers busy.
Myra tried to help the healers, but she found herself constantly returning to the tent, as if Dani’s pain called to her.
Whenever a loud groan or muffled scream slipped from the tent as another contraction came, Myra winced.
For the past twenty-four hours, Myra had been so focused on dulling pain that it was hard not to reach out to Dani’s and squash it.
In front of the tent, Sylvia and Moris paced back and forth, their anxiety clouding them. Moris had told Sylvia what had happened to him. Even turned away from the pair, Myra could feel Sylvia throwing invisible daggers at her because of Myra’s role in Moris’ transformation.
As Theenah left the tent, Myra unconsciously stood, following her to the supplies. "How is she?"
The healer sighed and wiped her brow. "It’s too soon to tell. She’s not quite nine months. It’s early, but if she doesn’t calm down…"
Myra twisted her fingers together, her knuckles cracking. She swallowed, but her throat was dry. "I might be able to help."
Theenah eyed her skeptically, hand poised above the bucket, towel still dripping. "Have you ever delivered a baby?"
"No, but—"
"Have you had experience being a nursemaid?"
"No, but—"
Theenah wrung out the soaking towel. "Then unfortunately I don’t think you can, my dear."
Myra’s hands curled into tight fists. She quickly unclenched them. "You said she needs to calm down, right?"
"Yes, but none of the oils are working. The general is even more stubborn than her father. It’s not like I can force her to calm down," the healer said.
There it was—a strand of hope—and Myra latched onto it.
"I can," Myra stated, back straight.
Theenah chuckled. "It’s fine—"
Tossing aside manners and formalities, Myra grabbed the healer’s wrist, demanding her attention. When Myra poured an ounce of her gift into her, the strain around Theenah’s eyes vanished, and her lips parted slightly as her shoulders dropped.
Myra released Theenah and dropped the thread of emotions simultaneously.
Theenah blinked at her. The healer looked around, then pulled Myra to the side, away from prying ears. "You were not on the ships with us. You’re not Pontian," she whispered.
Myra rolled her shoulders back, shaking the discomfort from telling someone about her gift. "My parents were. I can help Dani. I promise."
The healer observed Myra more closely, scanning her up and down. "Fine," she grumbled after a moment. "Grab that bucket. We need to keep her temperature down."
Myra did as she was told and followed the healer. The water sloshed against the sides of the bucket, nearly spilling over the lip. The healer threw the tent flap open and held it for Myra to enter.
"Where is she going?" Sylvia demanded, storming over to the tent.
"Mind your tongue, Larpos," Theenah said, urging Myra to enter. She glanced at Moris, who had followed his friend. "Make sure we are undisturbed."
Moris nodded, but Sylvia was unrelenting.
They blocked Myra’s entry, throwing out their arms. "She cannot go near Ferrios."
Moris reached for Sylvia. "Sylv, it’s—"
Sylvia slapped his hand away. "The commander said to guard Ferrios from any threats. She is a threat."
The tent flap fell from Theenah’s fingers.
Unflinching in the face of Sylvia’s wrath, the healer pointed at Myra, who went rigid beside her.
"This woman may be Danisinia and that child’s saving grace.
I have orders from the Queen and the commander to ensure both of their safety.
Now move, Larpos, or I will move you myself. "
Moris' hand fell onto Sylvia’s shoulder, and he whispered something Myra couldn’t hear. But whatever he said, it got Sylvia to take a step back. Although a scowl still curved at their lips.
As Myra passed them, Sylvia hissed, "If you dare hurt either of them, I will slice that pretty little head of yours right off—"
"Enough, Larpos," Theenah ordered, pushing Myra inside the tent.
The flap fell behind them, closing out the world.
The smell of sweat saturated the small space.
Carefully, Myra set the bucket down, afraid to wake Dani, who lay with her hand over her eyes.
Dani’s face and neck sparkled with moisture.
Beads of sweat rolled down the contours of her brown cheeks and down her collarbone.
"Danisinia," Theenah called out.
Dani groaned.
The healer held out her hand, and Myra handed her the wet rag. "I’ve brought someone who might be able to help."
Dani peeled her hand away from her eyes an inch and squinted. Her dull eyes flicked around the tent until they landed on Myra. Anger flashed across her face, but pain quickly consumed it before she could act on it.
Theenah waved Myra over. Hesitantly, Myra sat on the other side of Dani. Without Dani’s permission, though, she maintained her distant.
"Danisinia," the healer beckoned, sensing Dani’s trepidation. She placed the wet rag on Dani’s forehead. "I’ll be here the whole time."
Agony seeped from Dani’s pores and soaked the earth, tainting the ground.
Myra chewed on her bottom lip, nervous. If Dani refused her help, would the healer force her to use her gift anyway?
Myra did not want to violate Dani’s wishes, but how long could she maintain this state? If they didn’t do something, Myra feared what would happen to Dani and the child.
Dani squinted at Myra, grimacing. But then she plopped her hand down, resting it beside Myra’s knee, palm up. "Do it," she whispered, her voice raw.
Myra gingerly took Dani’s hand in her own, cradling it. With a deep breath, Myra gently squeezed Dani’s hand as the bright pain flooded her senses.