As his panting stilled, his eyes moved to Claire’s motionless form on the table. Keith was working at her side, mixing ingredients in a wooden bowl while talking to her in frantic whispers and pleading looks. He glanced up and made eye contact with Cal.
Keith gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and poured the thin liquid into Claire’s mouth, tilting her head so the yellow liquid would run down her throat. The smell of the liquid assaulted Cal’s nose and he felt a glimmer of hope. Keith had just poured Meekleberry root down Claire’s throat. The healing formula had worked many wonders in the past, but Cal prayed it would create a miracle this day. Could she possibly survive?
He stood still, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. He feared even a rustle in the air would steal her c
