Ciran leaped up from Jaiz's bedside, demanding, "Do you have it?"

Thranduil thrust a handful of Pholia into Faineth's hands. She was a healer; she would know what to do with it without instruction. With a handful of his own, he sat down by Jaiz. The poor elfling was looking thinner and paler. He pried Jaiz's mouth open and placed the Pholia flowers inside. Jaiz murmured, his head rolling. But he began to suck on the flowers with eagerness.

Ciran took his son's hand and squeezed it, looking across the bed at Thranduil with tears in his eyes.

"You are welcome," Thranduil said softly.

Jaiz moaned. His eyes cracked open for the first time in weeks. His voice was dry and hoarse. He coughed with each word. "A-ada? Ada?"

"Suck on the flowers," Thranduil advised the boy.

Jaiz obeyed, turning his head toward his father. Ciran's blue eyes met his green ones, glistening with tears. He could feel ada's hand holding his, squeezing it gently but he did not have the strength to squeeze back. Instead he smiled and whispered, "Impossible as it may seem, I-I feel better, ada."

Ciran smiled back. "Good. Lie back and rest. No more talking. You are still weak. You must recover your strength."

"But I do not understand," Jaiz murmured. "There is no cure for Zyrackzil . . . . ." His eyes closed and he slept.

"I cannot believe it worked so fast!" Faineth exclaimed, staring at Jaiz in surprise.

"The Pholia has blocked the flow of the poison," Thranduil explained. "Zyrackzil drains energy as it progresses through its victim's body, making the host weaker. Now that the poison is halted, Jaiz's strength is returning to him instead of being sucked away. But he will have to keep taking the Pholia to keep the poison at bay until it is gone from his system."

Faineth nodded. "I am making a tea."

"I do have one warning though," Thranduil said. "People sometimes become addicted to Pholia and depend utterly on it for their energy. So, once Jaiz is visibly recovering, lessen the dose."

Faineth nodded again.

"What does the Pholia taste like?" Ciran asked.

"Sugar syrup," Thranduil answered.