Making a decoction was easy. Feeding it to a comatose patient was not. 

Vidyuta spent the next two hours in silence, forcing two to three spoonfuls into Veerata’s mouth every ten minutes. It was a grueling task, yet the young doctor remained focussed.

Satya watched him from her spot. Even after relating the incidents that led to the young general’s near-fatal wound, he’d not accepted her suggestion to prepare a poultice that would counteract the magic trapped in the wound. 

“I’m certain my treatment will work tonight,” he’d reasoned, “just as it’s worked multiple times in the past. Letting you stay here… taking your help… It’s a huge risk for me. Senapati won’t be happy about it. In any case, it’s not my place to decide. Perhaps we can wait until morning when Senapati wakes up. You can speak to him about the poultice then. If he agrees, we could try it.” 

Satya had nodded in silence. No need to infuriate the doctor with further persuasion. Yet, a single thought had lingered in her mind. 

Morning might be too late. 

Vidyuta’s efforts were futile. The decoction had no effect on the patient whatsoever. The trapped magic could kill him tonight. 

And if by some miracle Veerata survives the night what do I say to him? The doctor believed my explanation, but will he? What if he’s suspicious of me? What if he asks Acharya about it?

The midnight gong startled her. She jerked awake and sat up straight. 

Was I dozing off?

 “I’m so sorry, doctor. I didn’t mean to fall asleep—” 

The doctor’s vacant expression stopped her outburst. He looked like a broken man; his brow creased; his sunken eyes fixed on the patient; his shoulders hunched in defeat. Fatigue and lack of sleep had aged him. Two hours of administering the balm and decoction had brought no change in his patient. 

The young general’s condition looked worse than before. Despite the constant sweat on his forehead, his fever remained strong. A nervous twitch had replaced the shivers. 

“There’s nothing more I can do,” Vidyuta mumbled, overwhelmed. “Except pray. He needs a miracle to save him now.”

A sudden seizure erupted across the patient’s body. It took some time for the young doctor to bring it under control. Now both the shivers and the twitching were gone. But Satya knew what the seizure meant. It would recur from time to time and next time could be fatal. 

“He needs my poultice,” she cried.

“Go home, Satya! The guards can take you back to the village.”

“Why won’t you listen to me?” She jumped up, exasperated. “Let me try just once! I know I can help him.”

“It’s not my place—”

“Then, allow me!” 

Satya sprinted towards the door, pushed it open, and whispered to the guards outside. Again, they obeyed her in silence. She closed the door, rushed back to the bedside table and started checking all the herbs that the doctor had brought in his medicine bag. 

“Girl, what are you doing?” Vidyuta demanded. 

Satya faced him. “Trust me! I’ll take full responsibility for my actions. You can tell Senapati that I administered the poultice without your consent.” 

He hesitated, his eyes darting between her and the patient.

She clicked her tongue. Why is he so stubborn?

“If my poultice doesn’t work and Senapati dies, you can tell the guards outside to execute me. But let me try one time. Please! I beg you!” 

In the back of her mind, Satya wondered at her own words. 

Why am I begging this doctor to allow me to help my enemy? 

Is it to save the girls? Because Veerata promised to rescue them? 

Must I save every dying patient in front of me? 

Or is it something else?

At length, Vidyuta agreed with a silent nod. She set to work on the poultice. It would take some time to create the optimal mixture. 

I’ve lost two hours. What if I’m already too late? 

The guards returned with the ingredients she ordered sooner than expected. Within another half an hour, the poultice was ready. 

During that time, the patient’s seizures had abated. Satya placed the ball-shaped cloth mass on his wound, increasing pressure in degrees. 

The young general winced twice, a deep furrow appearing on his forehead. Sweat had penetrated through his hair into the pillow. Vidyuta raised his head and placed a fresh cloth under it. Soon, with Satya’s continuous application, Veerata’s face relaxed for the first time since his collapse. His chest rose in a deep breath.

Vidyuta’s face lit up. “Your poultice works!”

Satya smiled back. When she’d assured him everything was under control, he settled down in a chair close by. Within minutes, he nodded off to sleep. 

Satisfied that he would not see her, Satya concentrated her energy on the poultice. A faint blue light appeared through her fingers. The poultice grew warm in her palms.

This was the true secret of her skill. The lost princess of Amritambu was born with healing magic. Even Acharya knew nothing. Time and again, Satya imbued her secret healing powers into her medicinal concoctions to treat her patients at the university hospital. 

Although the poultice was effective, it could not counteract the trapped magic. At first, while the doctor was still awake, she had applied only a fraction of her powers to the poultice. When he fell asleep, she unleashed her full potential. 

As the trapped fire magic dissipated into the surrounding air, tears streamed down her cheeks, unhindered. It was her last farewell to her beloved elder sister.