The Healer ✔

Chapter Twenty

"Your father told you this?" Monne asked, a frown on her youthful face.

"Yes," Elora said.

"After two months of silence?" Nyal started incredulously. "What did you do to make him actually help you?"

"I prayed," she answered, sparing a brief glance at Ragen. The warlock only nodded at him, a hint of a smile on his face.

"That was it?" Nyal asked. "Isn't that what you had been doing?"

"No," Elora said. "I'd been demanding stuff from him as a daughter would. I think he wanted me to get down on my knees like everyone else, sink to their level, so to speak. He wanted me to be desperate."

"Why?" Mikhail asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know why he does anything. Perhaps to torment me," she said.

"While it's wonderful that he's finally said something helpful to you," Monne started, drawing the attention back to her. "I don't think what he's said is actually of much use to us."

"But now we know that Nyal and Elora can and will defeat the Zlohiel," Mikhail argued.

"Yes, but when? How? Will we even be alive to see it?" Monne questioned, gesturing wildly. "He hasn't said anything about it, only that the final battle will come soon. The final battle for who though? Us? The Zlohiel? Elora herself? We don't know."

There were too many questions and as usual, no answers to give. "I don't know. He wouldn't tell me," she said. "He's stopped answering now that he's given me that sliver of information. We will have to find out when the events come along."

"That's not what I want," Monne said, her voice taking on a petulant tone, reminding Elora of just how young she was. Barely an adult, barely fit to deal with everything that was going on. "I want full answers, I want to know everything that's going to happen in the coming years. I want a guarantee that my kingdom will be safe."

"Sometimes you can't always get what you want, your majesty," Nyal said. "We're all just going to have to wait for the answers. By the Gods, there are questions I have that I don't think will ever get answered. I think that is just the way of the Gods."

Elora and Nyal had talked about his questions earlier that morning. She had no answers for him. He'd wanted to know why it was him that would save the realm. What made him so special? She couldn't even begin to answer. There was no chance that he had been favoured by Yararanje, not with how disappointed the God was in him.

"It's not fair," Monne said, pushing at the messy tangle of her hair.

"I know," Elora said. "But it is all we have. We have to work with it. At least now we know that there is a way for the Zlohiel to be defeated."

"You've got one chance to do it!" Monne exclaimed. "What if you miss it? What if you fail?"

"I won't," Elora replied, looking over at Nyal, who had doubt moulding the expression on his face. "We won't."

"How can you be so sure?" Monne demanded, face turning red from the stress of the conversation.

"The fate of the entire realm rests on our shoulders, Monne," Elora replied. "We won't fail."

"You better not." Elora scowled at the words, unimpressed by the Queen's anger. It would do nothing to help them during the coming battle and would only serve as a distraction.

"Your Majesty," Mikhail said, drawing the angry woman's attention away from Elora. "Even though it isn't the news you had hoped for, we can still use what we know. The Gods told us that the final battle is coming soon, this gives up an opportunity to prepare ourselves."