Collected Proverbs – Beatrice of Fourth Despite the fact that a healer worked on him, Duncan still felt like he’d been shoved through a keyhole at ninety-miles-an-hour. He hurt from both mind-dives, the one that Yolanthe had perpetrated and his own plunge that had helped him disturb the link well enough to escape the trance. He ached all over as well, probably because he’d been inactive for the past two weeks. But Horace was with him now and healing waves poured through Duncan’s head, flowing the entire length of his body. His mind had finally started working again, but he struggled to open his eyes. He needed to know where he was and whether or not -- God help him -- Rachel had survived the wrecker attack. He’d been in and out of consciousness so that only snippets of information had reached him. As the pain diminished, he was at last able to open his eyes to stare up at a welcome face. “Horace.” The healer had served the warrior community for a damn long time.
