Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms 4)

“It is.”

Jonas gritted his teeth. “Let’s get it over with.”

“Lie down.” Olivia reached into the bucket and drew out a handful of the stinking mud.

Jonas lay down on the sturdy table before which he’d previously been seated. He reached for Lysandra, who took his right hand in hers. “Ready,” he said.

“Think healing thoughts,” Lys suggested.

“I’ll try my best.”

The witch began to smear the healing mud over his shoulder. Even the slightest touch was painful, but the mud felt cool against his burning skin.

“More,” he said.

“Yes, you’re definitely going to need all of it,” she agreed.

This was very different from when Phaedra had healed Jonas with the grape seeds. Olivia’s magic gave him a cool and pleasant sensation, whereas Phaedra’s had felt like lava had been poured down his throat, only to go shooting through every limb.

“This feels so nice and soothing,” he said. “Is that what it’s supposed to feel like?”

“Soothing?” Olivia frowned. “I don’t think that—”

Jonas lurched up and cried out in pain. It was as if a soldier had grabbed hold of his arm and tore it right out of its socket before setting it on fire and throwing it to the wolves. He flailed, desperately trying to wipe the burning mud off his skin.

“Hold him down,” Olivia barked at Lysandra. “We can’t remove any of it yet.”

Lys immediately did as the witch ordered. They each took an arm and held Jonas down against the tabletop while he writhed in agony.

“She’s trying to kill me!” he exclaimed. “Lys—Lys, stop her!”

“Hang on,” Lys whispered. “Please, just hang on a little longer.”

He felt the mud sink deeper into his skin, burning through every layer, eating right down to his muscle and bone. It sliced through his shoulder like the razor-sharp bite of a demon.

But then, as suddenly as it came on, the pain vanished completely. He felt his body grow slack again in the girls’ grips, and all he could hear was the sound of his own ragged gasps.

“It’s done,” Olivia said, letting out a long, relieved sigh. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Bad? It was worse than bad. It was torture.

The witch disappeared into the back of the shop. Lys grabbed a cloth and shakily wiped at Jonas’s shoulder.

“It worked,” she said, clearly amazed. “She didn’t just help you . . . she actually healed you.”

Jonas managed to push himself up to sitting. He took the cloth from Lys, wiping the remaining mud away from his shoulder, revealing an unblemished patch of smooth skin. No wound, no infection.

But . . . how? Jonas might be a converted believer in Mytican magic, but he hadn’t thought a witch could be capable of a miracle this perfect.

Bruno was the one who’d said a witch couldn’t heal an injury this bad. But perhaps the old man had just never met one who could.

Lysandra grabbed him and hugged him tight. “I thought I was going to lose you. Don’t scare me like that again, got it?”

“I got it,” he whispered into her hair.

Olivia returned, wiping her hands on a towel. “All better?”

Lysandra rushed to Olivia and placed her hands on her shoulders. “To think, only a little while ago I didn’t believe a word about witches or magic, and here you are . . . and you’ve done even more than I ever could have wished for. Thank you. Thank you so much!” Then Lysandra pulled the girl into a tight hug.