Page 59 of Tell No Tales
"Martiz said the same."
"Do I have your consent to heal you?"
Jermain frowned at him. "Why would you need that?"
When Vadim didn't answer, he finally muttered, "Yes." Instead of the surge of power Vadim expected, his power trickled into Jermain's lungs, cleansing them of the infection and removing all traces of the disease. Then, it spread further, finding pockets of the same disease in his heart, liver, and brain.
Vadim relinquished Jermain's hand, certain the illness was gone.
Jermain immediately raised the hand to his ear. "The ringing is gone. What did you do?"
"The disease had spread to your head, heart, and liver. I removed it all."
"It's a definite improvement over anything Martiz has accomplished, that's for sure."
"He wasn't trying to heal you," Vadim said. "He did just enough to keep you alive, which kept you coming back for more."
Jermain studied him. "For what purpose?"
Vadim shrugged. "That's what I want to know. I'm still working my way through Hesse's journal on healing and death weaving." Vadim also intended to ask Yvette, after he'd reviewed a few passages in the journal. He didn't want to sound like a complete fool when he accused Martiz of partial work.
"You never had to give him consent." Vadim looked to Jermain for confirmation.
He shook his head. "Not once."
"I think I understand. When I drain someone to unconsciousness, it's either because I don't ask, or they don't give me consent to take their lives. Martiz must not need consent to heal to a certain extent. For full healing, the patient needs to take an active role."
"I would have, gladly, had he but asked," Jermain said. "You've given me a new line of questioning for this afternoon. If there are answers to be had from him, Frost and I will get them."
"Thank you." Vadim pulled his glove back on before extending his hand to shake Jermain's.
"No. Thank you. You're the one who healed me beyond what I'd thought possible."
Fear leeched into Vadim's gut as he walked to the aft and down the stairs to the hold. Why would trained healers leave their subject to suffer recurrence after recurrence of the same disease?
∞∞∞
Klaus
Vadim stormed into the crate and threw himself down on the mattress beside Klaus. Thankfully, Mewskers was safely curled in Klaus's lap, away from the disturbance.
"Healing is an extortion racket."
"No shit," Klaus quipped without giving Vadim the satisfaction of drawing his attention away from his book. "I could have told you that."
"You did." Klaus did meet Vadim's gaze, then. "You said healer after healer had been called to fix the same affliction, yet they only made it worse. Did any of them ask you for consent?"
Klaus frowned. "Not that I recall."
"That's troubling." Vadim lay on his back, rubbing his temples with both hands.
"When people don't consent to your death weaves, you're still able to drain them to unconsciousness."
Vadim sat up and dragged himself to the back wall to sit beside Klaus. "True. Plus, there's the caveat where they attack me, and I don't need consent to kill them."
"Self-defense," Klaus said. "There's no such thing as self-defense in healing, though. Maybe they never need consent?"
Vadim pulled Klaus's hand away from the kitten's furry head and kissed his knuckles before returning his hand to its place. "It sounds to me like you've never been asked for your consent to be healed, before Niall."
