Chapter 43 The Cure

• Liora’s breathing was shallow again. Her lips had lost their colour, and her fever burnt hotter than before.
• She lay curled on the healer’s cot, sweat soaking her hairline, whispering words I couldn’t understand, and now and then her lips trembled as if she was trying to speak but couldn’t.
• The healers worked as if they were fighting death itself — bowls of steaming herbs, chants whispered under their breath, hands glowing faintly as they tried to draw the sickness out.