Shoulder the Skye (Skye Druids #2)(27)
Author: Donna Grant

 

The Irishman shot him a confused look. “What?”

 

“You’re a bleeder,” Carlyle said.

 

At one time, nearly every Druid had a special ability. When several Druids could do the same thing, it had been given a name. Wind talkers could communicate with the wind, and some could even wield it. There were fire walkers, water dancers, tree whisperers, and so many others. There were also healers, those who could mend injuries, though they could rarely heal themselves. Time benders could pause time for a few seconds. Bleeders took feelings from others. A rare few could alter someone’s feelings.

 

“Aye,” Finn replied. “I take emotions. I can’t help someone who’s sick.”

 

That was when Elias realized what Carlyle was getting at. “Doona take Bronwyn’s pain. Remember what you did with Sabryn last year? When she was hurt?”

 

“That’s right,” Sabryn said, nodding. “You scanned my body and figured out which bone was broken.”

 

Finn swallowed nervously. “Aye, but that wasn’t a life-or-death situation.”

 

“You did it. That’s what you need to focus on,” Elias urged. “Please.”

 

“I hate all of you,” Finn murmured but moved to Bronwyn’s head.

 

Carlyle scooted down to give him room. Elias watched as Finn spread his palms over Bronwyn and closed his eyes. When everyone went quiet, Elias noted the shallowness of Bronwyn’s breathing.

 

“Fek,” Finn said softly. “She’s in a tremendous amount of pain. I don’t know how she stood there for as long as she did.”

 

“Where?” Elias urged. “Is it her head? Is that what’s causing the fever?”

 

Carlyle put his hand on Elias’s arm to calm him. “Give Finn a chance to look at everything.”

 

He was right, of course, but Elias couldn’t help but feel that time was of the essence. Had he missed something last night when he examined Bronwyn? He wasn’t a doctor, but all the Knights had tended to each other’s injuries over the years. They all had picked up a lot of knowledge during that time.

 

Finn’s hands were over Bronwyn’s chest now. Sweat began beading his forehead, but he said nothing. Then Finn’s lips flattened before he moved down Bronwyn’s legs, pausing at her injured right knee and left ankle. Then he returned to her chest.

 

He was pale when he opened his eyes to look at Elias. Finn’s hands shook when he rose them to wipe his face. “It’s her ribs. Two are broken. And a sliver of one punctured her lung.”

 

“Hospital it is, then,” Carlyle said as he got to his feet.

 

Sabryn turned and started for the door. “I’ll get the car.”

 

“Wait,” Elias called. Everyone stopped and looked his way. He swallowed, his mind racing at the impossibility of what he was about to suggest. “We can heal her.”

 

Finn moved to lean against the wall for support. “We’re not healers, E.”

 

“Nay, but maybe we doona need to be.” Elias glanced at Bronwyn. “When Elodie was injured, I was there when she was healed. I heard the chant the MacLeod Druid used.”

 

“Bloody hell,” Carlyle said, shock causing his voice to lower. “The MacLeod Druids? You actually heard it and are just now telling us?”

 

Finn’s brows shot up on his forehead as he let out a low whistle. “That’s ancient magic that has been lost to many of us.”

 

“But do you remember all of it?” Sabryn asked. “One wrong word, and it won’t work.”

 

“I’m aware. I can’t explain it, but I think this is what Bronwyn would want,” Elias told them.

 

The three looked at each other. Carlyle nodded. Finn shrugged. Sabryn sighed.

 

Then she said, “We give it one chance. If it doesn’t work, we’re off to seek medical help.”

 

“Agreed,” Elias said.

 

Finn looked around. “Do we do it here? It’s fekking freezing. Why isn’t the heat on?”

 

“Take a look around, Finn. Things have been sold off,” Carlyle snapped. “Most likely to pay the inheritance tax from her father’s death.”

 

“Where’s her room?” Sabryn asked, stopping Carlyle or Finn from saying more.

 

Elias attempted to get to his knees, but his rib injury made it impossible. Carlyle bent and gently gathered Bronwyn in his arms. Elias pushed to his feet and motioned for the three to follow him. He strode into the parlor, grateful for the heat that met them.

 

“Over there,” he said, pointing to the sofa bed.

 

“No wonder she jumped at the money offered,” Finn said when he saw the area Bronwyn had made into a bedroom.

 

Carlyle laid her on the bed and stepped back. The four of them situated themselves around the sofa bed, arms stretched wide to be able to reach. Their magic rushed from one to the other, gathering and rising as they called to it.

 

Then, everyone looked at him.

 

Elias took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He had memorized the chant, thinking it might come in handy in the future. He’d never expected it to be so soon. He spoke the words clearly. By the second iteration, Carlyle joined in. Not long after, Sabryn added her voice, and then Finn. They repeated the chant eight more times.

 

Elias paused, and the others went silent. He felt Bronwyn’s forehead. A smile broke over his face when he realized her fever was gone. Finn stepped forward and once more scanned her body. He pitched to the side when he was done, weak from using so much of his magic. Carlyle had to grab hold of him and help him to the chair.

 

But the Irishman looked at Elias and nodded. “She’s healed.”

 

“That’s a bloody powerful chant,” Carlyle said, his gaze on Bronwyn.

 

Sabryn blew out a breath, her fatigue showing. “I honestly didn’t expect that to work.”

 

“That’s the difference between the chants we know now and the ancient ones we’ve lost,” Finn said.

 

Elias tucked the blanket around Bronwyn and then faced Finn. “Are you sure everything is healed? Do we need to keep going?”

 

“Not sure if I could,” Finn admitted. “But, aye. She’s healed. I double-checked the rib and lungs. All’s good. There’s nothing there to cause her pain.”

 

Sabryn shoved her fingers into her black hair and moved it away from her face. “Is it too early for a drink?”