When Grant moaned in his sleep she hurried to kneel beside him, touching a hand to his forehead. He flinched and she realized with a shock that the fever was back. His flesh was hot to the touch. What’s more, his pain had not subsided. She could feel it, pulsing through him in waves. Her fault, she thought with a twinge of guilt. She’d known, of course, that some wounds needed much more care than others, yet she’d allowed herself to get distracted by the mundane chores of this strange new world. Oh, if only Allegra were here. She was so much better at healing, Kylia thought. She placed her hands on either side of Grant’s head and began to chant the ancient words that would drive the evil from his body. Hours later, her voice hoarse, her arms throbbing from the effort to keep them outstretched, she allowed herself the luxury of sitting back on her heels, pressing a hand to the small of her back. She would ease her discomfort for only a moment, she promised herself as her lids closed and her head bobbed.
