Blood Sacrifice: The Healers of Meligna, #3

By K. J. Colt

With the threat of the Queens' army increasing, only blood healing can save South Senya. Adenine continues her journey alone, encountering constant danger and tragic loss. Clutching at the strands of her sanity, Adenine barely makes it to Juxon City where the king proves untrustworthy and hostile.

The Queens quickly destroy all Adenine's hope for the kingdom of Senya. Under their rule, the people are doomed. She has allies, but they are too few to take back the city. The only one who can challenge the Queens is the emperor of Bivinia: a monster responsible for the deaths of hundreds of healers. She must convince him to invade Senya, replacing one evil for another.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kylie Coulter
• Release date: Jun 17, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498993876

Book preview

Dedication

To those who’ve struggled in times of darkness.

Never give up on hope.

Chapter One

Mother had put three generous logs into the hearth before we slept. The fire devoured the solid chunks of pine and beech. As the fire dwindled, I knew the time neared midnight when I would leave those I loved to rescue four of my kind: healers.

The air grew cold and the scent of damp timber replaced the aromas of beef stew and pumpkin bread. Mother lay on the bed facing the shack’s dirty window, snoring softly, her greying hair reminding me of her growing fragility. Jemely lay next to Mother, her arm draped over Mother’s waist.

Klawdia slept leaning against the front door. She would wake when I tried to leave, but I had my excuses already planned. Veneas and the Myrian Monks slept in the barn in order to guard Danaey, Skelkra’s sister.

I closed my eyes for a moment, considering the coming hours and the risks I would take. I turned my head a fraction, my eyes straining to catch a glimpse of Nallael’s slightly parted lips and fluttering eyelids to my right. He took deep, relaxing breaths. With each of his exhales I breathed in his sweet smell of spicy blueberries. How could anyone smell so delicious?

I twisted my body and his arms constricted around my waist, holding me tightly to him. I felt secure in his arms, like a child swaddled in freshly washed blankets. The faint beat of his heart against my ear made my own heart swell with pride. Nallael wanted me, he cared about me, and that meant more than he’d ever know. I rubbed my hands down his arms and gently lifted his wrists from my waist.

‘W-what are you doing?’ he whispered woozily, his eyes still closed.

Drat.

I sat up straight, faced him and ran my fingers through his blood-red hair. ‘The fire goes out, and I need to relieve myself outside. Go back to sleep.’

I stroked my fingers down his long neck to his collarbone, outlining the length of the protruding bone. He inhaled sharply, smacked his lips together before hugging himself and muttering, ‘Take a shawl or the cold will claim you.’

In anticipation of my departure, I had left my coat near the doorway several hours prior and stacked three shoe-sized boxes of food and a water skin on the bench. I’d slept fully clothed and wearing boots after complaining of the cold. No one had thought it unusual that I’d left my boots on, and after the journey back from Meligna, everyone was exhausted. All I had to do was hide my provisions under my coat before Klawdia awoke.

I moved to the fireplace and lifted the dwindling coals with a steel rod to find the hot core. Kindling sat in a box nearby and I grabbed a handful, threw them on the glowing embers and blew gently. The red flushed, the heat recoiled against my face, causing an uncomfortable stretching sensation in my cheeks. When licks of yellow reached up from the grey residue to ensnare the unburnt twigs, I took freshly cut branches and built up the fire until the shadows of the shack retreated. The green twigs would make the most noise, concealing my departure.

I went to the kitchen bench and reached to the left, grabbing the old brown cloak that Mother had found for me. I put it about my shoulders then tied my provisions at the back of my belt so Klawdia wouldn’t see.

Crack. Pop.

I went to the door, stepped over Klawdia’s legs that blocked the way, and I waited for the fire to hiss some more.

Crack.

I heaved the wooden barring.

Klawdia’s hand seized my calf, making me jump. ‘Where are you going?’ She narrowed her eyes and tightened her lips disapprovingly.

‘I need to relieve myself.’

‘I’ll come with you.’

‘I have to sit for a while. It may take time. I will stay near the shack. If I find myself in danger I’ll cry out.’

Klawdia nodded, the firelight catching on her red hair, causing it to shimmer gold. Her eyelids grew heavy and closed over the bloodshot white and dull topaz of her eyes. When the fire popped again, I pushed open the shack door, gulping as frigid air made my lungs seize. After shutting the door, I wrapped my coat around me. Taking small steps to conserve the warmth around my legs, I pushed my icy nose down into the folds of my cape and snuck across the snow.

The barn stood black and opaque amongst the snowy white. As I moved closer, I remembered the place inside where Danaey had stabbed me with her sword. The skin surrounding the now healed wound prickled with the memory.

Pine tops swayed in a strong breeze, absent of falling snowflakes. No stars shone and the frozen earth had rejected the moon. The depths of winter would overshadow Senya for three or four months before it peeled away, revealing the smothered landscape’s scars.

The inside of the barn was as black as tar. ‘Halt,’ a Myrian monk said. I angled my head in the direction of his voice, straining to find the outline of his figure.

‘It’s Adenine.’

‘How can we help you, Healer?’

‘Wake Veneas,’ I said.

‘Yes, m’lady.’

A strong hand took my wrist and led me through the dark. I swallowed and made myself trust my guide.

‘Be seated,’ he said.

The pungent smell of leather and manure made me hesitant to sit. Once on the scratchy hay, I checked my backside for anything foul or wet. A splash came from my right, followed by the acrid smell of fish oil. Metal scraped against flint, causing sparks of fire to shoot through the air and hop across glistening wood. Each scrape lit Veneas’s face.

The oil caught alight, and the fire took hold with a whoosh, frightening the slumbering chickens. They squawked and darted into the shadows. The eleven other monks were already sitting up on their beds observing me. Danaey had been tied to a pole. She watched me with calculating eyes.

Veneas seemed mesmerised by the fire. ‘I know what you are doing, Adenine.’ His eyes slid to me.

‘Am I still your leader, or is Klawdia?’ I asked, trying to fake confidence.

‘You are, healer. You have the gift that will save the world.’

I hated hearing that and I especially hated the power and responsibility that came with my…well, I’d call it a curse. Animals shuffled in their stalls, disturbed by the light. ‘I need your help.’

Veneas’s expression was soft and expectant as he sighed. Light reflected off his smooth scalp. ‘I knew you would do this.’

‘Knew what?’

‘Your core—what we monks call Anasa—is sick. Your selflessness is not good but bad because you consider yourself unworthy of admiration and love. Every time you give, you lose more of your Anasa. You will never refill it by isolating yourself from your friends.’ His gaze intensified. ‘I’m warning you. Do not do this alone.’

I widened my eyes. ‘H-how did you know—’

‘Monks study the mind as well as the body.’

Shame made me lower my head. If I asked Klawdia for help, Nallael would want to come too. I’d briefly seen him fight before, but his lack of battle skills still made me doubt his ability. ‘I-I’m sorry. I have to leave now. Alone. I need three of your men. Veneas, you will stay here and take care of everyone. You will stop Klawdia from following us.’

A smirk formed on Veneas’s lips. ‘That’s impossible, and you know it.’

I spread my hands. ‘Then delay her as long as you can.’

Danaey struggled against her restraints. ‘You’re a selfish girl, healer.’

One of the monks jumped to her and shoved a cloth in her mouth. She protested with a throaty groan. Piled behind Danaey was the stack of discarded Meligna armour the monks had stolen.

‘Heed my words, Veneas. Don’t let Klawdia kill Danaey. If Klawdia somehow comes after me, then get my mother and Jemely to safety.’ I got to my feet. ‘I need to leave now.’

Veneas stood also and gestured toward his men. ‘Mikael, Sharlin, Worla.’ The Myrian monks bowed.

‘Accompany Adenine to Borrelia. Obey her every command and put your lives before hers. See her to Juxon City.’

They bowed again. One smoothed down his clothes and another slapped a hand down on his friend’s shoulder, saying, ‘Adventure time.’

I smirked at that.

‘Prepare two horses. Quickly,’ Veneas ordered, and pointed toward the cubicles. The men dashed into the stalls, their boots crunching the hay. ‘You will double up with Sharlin, as he’s my best fighter.’

The monk, aged forty or more, placed a hand to his chest and bowed.

‘Here,’ Veneas said and handed me a short sword, dagger and belt. I took the items and fastened them to my body. ‘Be wary of road travel. Use it sparingly, as soldiers are stationed along the way. Keep to the trees. Go on foot when you reach the outskirts of the town.’

Sharlin brought our horse to me, mounted, and held out his hand.

I ignored Sharlin and turned to Veneas. ‘I’m going to keep to the base of the mountains to the east of the town. It will take longer than coming from the north, but we’ll evade the Meligna soldiers.’

Veneas leaned down on one knee, providing me a platform to mount my horse. I climbed up onto the horse and settled in the saddle behind Sharlin.

‘Be wary of snow lions and bears also,’ Veneas warned.

‘I will.’

‘Your friends will await you in Ayo.’

‘Take care of them,’ I said, giving him my warmest thank you smile.

He stepped back. ‘With my life.’ Veneas nodded to Sharlin and our horse headed for the exit.

I looked over my shoulder and locked eyes with the head monk. ‘Make Jemely happy.’

His eyes glowed with the idea and he bowed low. ‘If she wills it.’

‘She will,’ I replied and turned to Sharlin. ‘Let’s go.’ We cantered out into the snowy night.

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We took the northern road out of the property. My foggy breath billowed out in front of me. The horses grunted and swished their long tails. Dead branches trembled in the wind, shaking loose amassed snow.

We angled the horses around fallen trunks and crossed the frozen Bumbling Brook at its narrowest point near the waterfall. No water ran. No animals moved, yet the forest still felt alive. In spring the sun would blaze and thaw the snow, freeing the entombed life underneath.

Wooden fences barred our way. One of the monks dismounted, lifted the gate and shifted forward, straining to carry the heavy logs. He left enough space to squeeze our horses through.

Sharlin turned his head. ‘We’ll ride parallel to the road, amongst the trees.’

I nodded.

As we rode, I ducked away from twigs that might have scratched my face. Not that it truly mattered to me as a healer.

My thoughts drifted from one thing to another until I lost track of how much time had passed. My backside ached so I shifted to the right and my body instantly healed, relieving the pain in my upper thighs. Then we heard voices.

Sharlin whistled softly and the other monks stopped. Slowly, we joined them.

‘Three Meligna soldiers,’ one of the other monks said.

‘Let’s head farther into the trees,’ Sharlin replied.

We turned due east into the forest. The monks steered around mounds of white, and whenever the horses snapped a twig, the men would halt and listen. It calmed me to focus on the whooshing of my horse’s breath going in and out through his wide nostrils. At the mountains’ base were pine trees that strangled each other for space. The snow on the ground lay shallow as most had caught in the tree branches above. The horses’ stride eased.

Despite the tight squeeze between the pines, Sharlin urged us to increase our pace. A wolf howled, a white owl shrieked, and a bear roared in the distance, reminding me of Klawdia. Eventually Veneas would have to try and stop her coming after me and I feared the soldiers would capture her. He’d have to use force. I didn’t envy him in that regard.

Please, I thought. Don’t let my friends sacrifice their lives for my cause. I have to do this without them.

Telling myself that eased the guilt of abandoning them and Mother, but I had other guilt that haunted me. My father, who had killed his beloved brother to protect me, had been wrongly hung by the people of Borrelia. Frooby, my dearest friend in Borrelia, had died of illness because I hadn’t healed him. Abyslam, the Queens’ captain, betrayed the people of North Senya to protect me.

I didn’t want the monks to die either, and while I needed their guidance, I intended to keep them out of danger if I could.

It wasn’t just the deaths that tore me apart inside. Varago had lost his right to practice as a doctor. The abuse Jemely had suffered at the hands of the Queens haunted me. I’d abandoned the tortured healer girls in Queen Silica’s tower. I didn’t know what had become of Belned, the Bivinian spy, or Belissa, the revolutionary. All of this made me feel so hopeless.

I couldn’t fix my past mistakes, but I could try change the future. King Erageo had been forced to trade the remaining healer girls—terrified children—for the Queens’ resources. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Thoughts of Windearea and Belissa in Queen Silica’s cold, damp prison drove my determination. What she’d done to those girls was unpardonable and I would never forgive her.

Chapter Two

Through the trees and beyond the two, long, parallel school buildings, the torches and lamps lining Borrelia’s streets burned bright. Normally in the early hours of morning, Borrelia would be soaked in darkness. Especially under the blanket of winter blizzards.

‘We must be careful,’ Sharlin said.

Obviously. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. I dismounted, my boots crunching against the powder. Sharlin did the same—except his boots were silent—and gestured to the other men to stay where they were.

I whispered, ‘See the largest and widest building with the spire on top?’

‘Yes,’ Sharlin said.

‘That’s the council building and—’

I then pointed to the left of the council building, past Varago’s old doctor’s clinic, and finally stopped in the direction of Emala’s house.

‘The mayor lives that way. I know his daughter. I’m going to ask for his help. I want you to come with me and the other two to stay here, as I don’t want to endanger their lives.’

Sharlin raised an eyebrow. ‘We are already in danger, m’lady, and what if we actually manage to save the four girls?’

I pressed my lips together. ‘We’ll come back here. If we are followed, your men are to lead our pursuers away from us. Just give me enough time to get the girls far away. It may not come to that if I have the mayor’s help.’

‘We only have two horses. There are four girls plus—’

‘I know,’ I snapped. I tensed my fingers around a tree branch and broke the weak twigs. ‘The girls are young. We can fit three on a horse. We’ll know more once I speak to the mayor.’ I didn’t know if Meligna soldiers were in the town, but it seemed likely.

Sharlin shook his head. ‘Let me suggest that one of my men steal a horse while we sneak into town.’

‘As long as he doesn’t raise the alarm.’

Sharlin’s eyes narrowed for a moment before gesturing for the other monks to come to us. As he relayed the plans, a figure appeared behind the tavern. Sharlin and I ducked out of sight. The man whistled a tune and strolled casually up to a wall then relieved himself. When he finished sprinkling the brickwork, he scanned the surrounding woodlands before disappeared up an alley.

I whispered to Sharlin, ‘Soldier?’

‘No.’

Luckily, thick clouds smothered the moonlight. Our footsteps would be muffled by a strong wind that whirred between tree tops and buildings.

‘Let’s go,’ I said. We snuck along the forest’s edge to the southern line of the school buildings until, beyond the field, I could clearly see down Emala’s street. Unlike the town’s main street, its lamps weren’t lit. ‘Follow me.’

After taking five steps forward we stopped, listening for shouts. Hearing nothing, we continued. We reached the first schoolhouse and flattened our bodies against it. Only a few months earlier, I’d taken my history lessons inside of it.

As we reached the town, I put my back against a tall wooden fence surrounding a small grey house. Smoke rose from its chimneys and the smell made me envious of those inside, curled up in bed all cosy.

On the other side of the fence a dog clawed on the wood, growling and barking. It surprised me and my heart drummed in my chest. I closed my eyes, catching my breath.

‘Calm yourself,’ Sharlin whispered.

I glowered at him and brushed myself off. We tiptoed along the icy cobbles. Now numb, my nose picked up no scents, and the howl of the wind drowned out the sounds of Sharlin’s footsteps behind me. Every time he brushed against me I started.

They mayor’s affluent home had a sloping thatched roof and delicate stonework. A soft pulsing of light emanated deep within Emala’s room. Her hearth must be lit. Downstairs, the windows were black. Behind their back fence, the courtyard was a modest size. Emala’s bedroom overlooked a small herb garden and elegant stone seating arrangement.

‘Find me a pebble, or a stick.’

Sharlin searched the garden, his fingers dabbing and scratching until they curled around something round. He placed a seed the size of a small hen’s egg in my hand. I flung the pit at her window. It hit with a clunk and Sharlin ducked behind the stone table. We waited, but the window remained unattended.

‘Another,’ I whispered.

This time he found me a pebble and I worried over how much noise it would make. Hesitantly, I drew back my arm and lobbed the rock against the window. It hit the frame with a clunk, leaving the glass panelling intact. I sighed with relief.

Emala’s silhouette appeared on the curtain. The fabric shuddered and my friend’s delicate nose peeked between the curtain’s edges. Her arms drew them apart until I could see her round face and wide eyes. I jumped onto the stone table and waved at her. Her hand shot to her mouth. ‘Papa, Papa. There’s a man outside!’

Oh no.

Emala left the window. Somewhere in the house came voices, banging and heavy footsteps. Sharlin grabbed my wrist, yanking me in the direction of the laneway. ‘We must go. You have awakened everybody.’

I jerked my arm free of his clutch. ‘This feels right.’

‘If you want to live, we must leave.’

I heard the locks of the back door scrape. I faced the doorway, took a deep breath and steeled my façade.

‘Hide!’ I urged Sharlin, and he darted away.

The downstairs windows filled with yellow light, and deep voices conversed on the other side. I tried to still my trembling hands. The door swung open and the tips of two swords fell at my chest. Wielding them were heavily armoured soldiers. I raised my hands high into the air. ‘I’m not here to hurt anyone.’

‘Who are you?’ asked a Borrelia soldier who smelled of rotten goose eggs. He had a scruffy, ugly beard and fat, flushed cheeks. I stepped forward letting the light of the soldier’s lamp catch in my golden eyes. I pushed back my hood and slowly brought my sun-coloured hair over my shoulders.

‘H-healer,’ the other soldier exclaimed.

The smelly one grabbed my arm and tugged so hard that I flew through the doorway. As I stumbled into the mayor’s living room, the soldier kicked the back of my leg and I sprawled face-first onto the floor, scraping my elbows. I rolled over and the reeking soldier swished his sword near my face. I froze. He sneered at me and touched the steel tip of the blade against my cheek. I braved a peek at the doorway, making sure Sharlin hadn’t followed.

The soldier noticed my gaze and turned to his comrade. ‘Check the back area.’

Mrs. Vawdon cried, ‘Adenine!’ She came to my side and stared down at me. Her wavy brown and grey hair dangled long past her face. She touched the smelly soldier’s arm. ‘Put it away. I know this girl.’

The soldier curled his upper lip and reluctantly stepped back. Mrs. Vawdon helped me to my feet and then hugged me.

‘It can’t be true,’ I heard another familiar voice say. Mayor Vawdon leaned over at the railing at the top of the home’s polished oak stairs. His face paled.

Emala poked her head out from behind her father then squealed. ‘Adenine!’ She darted toward the stairs, her flowery nightgown flowing out behind her.

Mayor Vawdon grabbed a handful of her dress and pulled her back. ‘Wait, Emala.’ He pointed at me. ‘Men, arrest the healer.’

‘No, Papa!’ Emala said, squirming in his arms.

The soldier who’d kicked me in the legs grabbed my tunic and lifted me to my feet. He put his arm around my neck and squeezed. I remembered the dagger in my boot, but if I started a fight, Mrs. Vawdon—who stood close by—might get hurt.

‘You’re making a mistake,’ I said to Mayor Vawdon in a choked voice.

‘The king wants you arrested, Adenine, not I.’

That caught me off guard. Why would the king want me arrested?

I heard the clang of a sword against the courtyard’s stone pavers and I knew Sharlin had disarmed the other soldier. I felt my captor’s body twist slightly, and he said, ‘Lugo, you there?’

I slipped free of the soldier’s grasp, lifted my right pant leg, and unsheathed my dagger. The man touched my head and I stabbed backwards, intending to cut his arm, but pierced his leg instead. He cried out and I rolled away.

Mrs. Vawdon gasped when she saw the blood rushing from the soldier’s leg. As she stepped back her heel caught on a loose floorboard and she fell backward. Her arms flailed before she smacked her head on a bookshelf, falling to the floor unconscious.

‘Mama!’ Emala cried and wiggled out of her father’s arms. She made another dash to the stairs.

‘Emala, no,’ said Mayor Vawdon, following her.

I thought quickly. ‘Sharlin!’ I cried with regret. I’d hoped the mayor would cooperate and I wouldn’t have to endanger his life.

The monk appeared at the back door. ‘Yes?’

‘Secure the soldiers. Make sure no one leaves this house.’

He nodded.

I turned to check on Mrs. Vawdon, but the mayor knocked me to the ground, pinning my arms above my head. ‘Y-you stay away from her.’ His sagging eyes and upturned mouth betrayed immeasurable sadness.

Gently, I said, ‘I can heal her, Mayor.’

His sadness turned to suspicion. ‘Lies. All you tell is lies.’

‘And you’re so pure?’ I said bitterly. ‘I can heal her.’

‘How do you intend to do that?’

Emala’s moaning stalled our argument. ‘Mama, wake up, Mama.’ My heart broke upon hearing her desperation.

‘Sharlin, get the mayor off of me,’ I ordered.

Sharlin freed me from the mayor’s assault after he’d locked the back door and tied the soldiers to the house’s main support pole.

I went to Emala and peeled her off her mother. ‘Emala, look at me.’

When she lifted her head I saw her puffy, bloodshot eyes. ‘What?’ she said softly before stroking the back of her mother’s head. Gasping, she withdrew bloody fingers.

I felt Mrs. Vawdon’s head and discovered a gash the length of my thumb. In Meligna I’d learned that all head injuries were dangerous and I was anxious to heal her.

‘Get off me,’ the mayor cried. I gestured for Sharlin to bring him closer.

‘Mama!’ Emala cried, shaking her mother’s shoulders.

I felt the strong pulse in Mrs. Vawdon’s neck. ‘I can heal her, Emala. But you must keep what I do a secret from the Queens.’

‘What? Why?’

I looked at Mayor Vawdon. His wrists were now wound with rope that Sharlin had found…well, I wasn’t exactly sure where he’d found the rope. Maybe Sharlin had been carrying it with him all along. ‘This applies to you, too, Mayor. I’m trusting you both.’

His upper lip curled. ‘Trust? If you had honourable intentions, you wouldn’t have brought your Meligna assassin with you.’

My jaw tensed. ‘Do you want me to heal her or not?’

Emala and her father blinked at me.

‘Then fetch me a cup.’ I looked pointedly at Emala. She ran to the kitchen and fumbled about in the cupboards before returning with a wooden mug.

‘Put some ash into it,’ I said, taking out my dagger.

Emala locked her eyes on my blade.

‘The ash,’ I said again, and she dropped five pinches of black powder from the hearth into the cup and handed it to me. I cut my finger and swirled the blood with the ash. ‘Fetch a wet cloth.’

‘Why?’ Emala asked.

‘I’ll explain it all later.’

I feared that when Mrs. Vawdon awoke, she’d inquire into the name of my healing remedy. I needed a fake name and fake ingredients. I almost laughed when remembering Jemely’s suggestion back in the sanctuary: Liquid Deliverance.

Poppies had long been used to relieve pain. Blackmetal Poppy. Yes, that would work. People would be confused over whether it came from a plant or stone.

Emala returned with the damp, stained rag.

‘All right, this is what we are going to do.’ I turned to the mayor. ‘Come closer.’

Since the mayor’s hands were tied, Sharlin helped him sit on the floor next to his wife.

I forced all the gloomy, doom-like thoughts from my mind. ‘You cannot tell anyone what I’m about to show you. Not even Mrs. Vawdon.’

The mayor flicked his eyes to me, then back to his wife. ‘I’ll not swear. My vows are to my king.’

I glanced over my shoulder at the soldiers tied to the pole. The one I stabbed looked at the ceiling, wincing with pain. Blood further soaked his pants. The other thinner one watched me intently. ‘Sharlin, sit here so the soldier’s view of us is blocked.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

When Sharlin was in place, I said, ‘Mayor, Emala, please keep quiet or the soldiers will learn’—I lowered my voice—‘of my blood secret.’ I touched my friend’s hand reassuringly before taking my dagger and touching the tip to the back of Mrs. Vawdon’s hand.

‘Adenine,’ Emala said. ‘I don’t—’

I made a small cut in the woman’s skin. The blood dripped down onto the stained rag.

‘What are you doing?’ the mayor said, struggling against his restraints. I dabbed the back of Mrs. Vawdon’s hand with the Blackmetal Poppy.

‘Untie me so I can at least comfort my wife.’

I nodded to Sharlin and he cut the ropes. The mayor kissed his wife’s fingers. ‘Please be well, love.’

‘Sir,’ the thin soldier called out. ‘Tonay looks real sick.’ The smelly soldier had passed out in a puddle of his blood.

The mayor hardly looked at his men. ‘In a moment, Lugo.’

‘Keep holding her hand. I’ll be right back.’ I carried the mug of Blackmetal Poppy to the injured soldier, being careful not to slip in his bloody mess. I’d obviously cut a central vein.

‘Adenine!’ Emala cried. ‘Mama’s skin moves.’

‘That’s supposed to happen,’ I said. I rolled up the leg of the soldier’s pants and spread the Blackmetal Poppy onto his wound.

When I returned to Mrs. Vawdon, I found her skin already healed.

Emala hugged me. ‘Thank you.’

When Mrs. Vawdon’s eyes shot open all of us jumped. Her mouth widened, revealing missing back teeth and pink gums, and she screamed so loud my ears rang. ‘Help! Something moves in my eye and in my ear.’

Her fingers curled and then she clawed at her head like a madwoman.

Mayor Vawdon restrained her arms. ‘Exert your will, my love. Do not harm yourself.’ He scowled at me. ‘What have you done to her?’

‘I can only heal the sickness, not the pain.’

Mrs. Vawdon sobbed for five minutes or so before her breath steadied. When her shoulders relaxed, she opened her eyes.

‘Mama?’ Emala said, leaning over her.

Mrs. Vawdon blinked a few times, then grabbed Emala’s arm. ‘Oh Emala. Emala! Can you believe it? I can see you clear as day.’

She pulled me down to her. I caught a whiff of garlic on her breath. ‘You healed me, didn’t you?’

I smiled. ‘Yes.’

She peppered my forehead with kisses. My skin prickled with burning embarrassment.

‘I’ve got the hearing of a fox and the eyesight of a hawk,’ she said and winked at her husband. ‘And the sprightly urges of a young woman.’ Mrs. Vawdon steeled her expression and slid her eyes to me. ‘How did you do it, sweet girl? You certainly didn’t ravish me.’

‘Blackmetal Poppy,’ I said hurriedly. ‘Only healers can make it. It heals the entire body.’

The major touched my arm. ‘Adenine, you understand the way it looked when you first came in tonight. I’m sorry I—’

‘Just hear me out and all will be forgotten,’ I said.

The mayor took his wife’s hand. ‘Of course. We’re in your debt.’

Chapter Three

Sharlin watched the streets from the windows. When the mayor ordered the soldiers away, I relayed to him my dealings with the Queens. I emphasised the parts about how the healers heal and are trained. How the Queens use the poison Hollowbark to manipulate the sick, ill, or exhausted into working. I finished by telling them about the Queens’ barbaric experimentation on the healer girls and their plan to take over Senya.

‘The trade for the healer girls was supposed to happen three days ago,’ Mayor Vawdon said. ‘We were expecting an Overseer from Juxon City to be here. When he didn’t show, the captain of the Meligna army surrounded the town with his men. The captain said when the trade was finalised he and his men would leave.’ The mayor stood up from the lounge and paced the living room. ‘That’s why I thought you were a spy. How did you get through the soldiers?’

‘Less soldiers at night,’ Sharlin said. ‘We stayed away from the roads.’

‘We rode through the pine forests at the mountain base,’ I added.

The mayor scratched his head. ‘You were lucky, I suppose. One thing doesn’t seem right. I’ve been to the nearby Meligna encampment. There’s only fifty or so soldiers

Reviews for Blood Sacrifice

[honoliipali · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Those who have read the first two books in this series (Concealed Power and Blood Healing) will be a bit surprised by this book. Ms Colt has shifted the focus from developing a fantasy world, various lands and people, and a myriad of characters. The well developed and highly intriguing storyline now turns inward to focus on Adenine.There is no question that Adenine is the heroine of this four part series (more on that later). Personally, Ms Colt has dissected Adenine into many facets. Each is well developed and crafted into a storyline that meanders (purposefully) as each different character trait is explored. What the reader is left with is a great understanding and awareness of Adenine. The final chapters of the book start the conclusion of this remarkable adventure. I rate this at 4.5 stars and recommend to every reader irrespective of their opinion of the fantasy genre. I am not a person that seeks out fantasy stories but was enthralled by winning a free copy of Concealed Power.I mentioned earlier that the next book in the series is the alleged finale. If you read the author's blog, she says this is the final installment in the quartet. But, she does leave an opening that she may do more if you, her fans, want more. Consider this an informal petition for each of you to plead for more in the series.