Siren Song (The Fated #1)

25 | Live Magic

Consciousness returned to Iliana in pieces. A sluggish, sleep drunk haze filled her head. She blinked open her eyes. It was all she could do to recognize the old, dark wood ceiling above her. She was in Lykos' room once more, cocooned in his thin blankets.

Silence permeated the air. That sixth sense she'd begun to develop when it came to others told Iliana that she was alone. As she attempted to grasp her thoughts--her clouded mind making it difficult--she took stock of her body. Strangely, there was no pain. She lacked even the slight ache to her wrists where the cuffs had previously irritated her newly sensitive skin.

Her stomach growled.

A grimace twisted her lips as she sat up, hand flying to her churning stomach. She was starving. The realization was followed by another--not only was her skin healed, but the cuffs themselves were missing. Why would they remove those?

As she pondered the problem, her mind slowly grew more alert. Memories of what'd happened before--of the fight and the sword through her middle--began to take over her thoughts. Iliana couldn't help but pull up the fabric of the unfamiliar dress she wore to study her stomach. The skin was flawless.

Eumelia had to be the reason. Only a witch doctor could 'cause such a thing... but, it was still strange. The witch doctors she'd grown up with hadn't been able to avoid scarring. Iliana's hands had once been such an example. She'd accidentally spilt hot tea on an important guest while her sister was away. Her brother-in-law had responded by cornering her in the kitchen and forcing her to stand still as steaming water was poured over her hands.

As per usual, the local doctor had been bribed to quietly deal with her injuries before her sister's return. The scars, however, had been permanent, much to her brother-in-law's annoyance. She no longer remembered the lies he'd spun. At the time, she'd been distracted by the fact her sister believed him. She gave a small shake of her head, casting off the memories. They didn't matter. What did matter was the lack of a scar.

Exactly how strong was Eumelia? It was one thing for a witch doctor to be able to do blood magic. It was another entirely for them to heal wounds as if they'd never existed.

The door swung open, revealing the person in question. Iliana shoved the dress back down, cheeks heating as she turned her attention to Eumelia. The witch offered her an amused smile as she crossed the room, a tray in her hands.

"I thought you might be hungry," she said.

Iliana hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you. For... uh... both things."

Eumelia's smile warmed further as she reached the bed. Iliana scooted to the side, giving room for the two of them to sit with the tray between them. Instantly, Iliana plucked sliced fruit from the tray and began eating. The gnawing hunger in her stomach allowed for nothing less.

"It took a decent amount of energy to heal you," Eumelia explained. "Some of it drawn from what you hold within yourself. That, plus the amount of time you've slept, would've left your body starved for nutrition."

She nodded in response, considering what to say as she ate. A moment passed before she settled on bluntness.

"What sort of witch doctor are you?"

Belatedly, she realized how rude her question might've sounded. Thankfully, Eumelia seemed amused more than anything else.

"One who was born with the blood, then remade as well," the witch revealed. "My family had held Koun's blessing for generations before me. As such, our power was weak. My mother could barely heal a scratch with magic, but she made up for it with her knowledge of traditional healing. I was weaker still."