by JD Monroe
Suddenly, Velati’s eyes lifted. Following his gaze, Kaldir awkwardly turned his head to see Sohaila trudging down the central aisle. A stained apron hung over her blue garments, and her hair was in a messy braid instead of her usual ornate style. Yawning wide, she inspected each bed as she passed.
Then she looked up, and her entire demeanor changed. Her eyes brightened as they fell on him, and an unfettered smile lit up her expression. It felt like the sun had emerged from behind the clouds, warming him. She ran down the aisle toward him.
“You’re awake,” she said, leaning over to kiss him lightly. He grasped her hand, savoring the warm sweetness of her kiss. She shot Velati a hard look, then smiled again. “How do you feel?”
“Like I was nearly bitten in half by a monstrous white dragon,” he said.
Her brow furrowed. “That’s not funny.”
“I was not being funny. That’s exactly how I feel.”
She glared at Velati. The Arik’tazhan was fortunate that she couldn’t melt him with her gaze. “May I check on my patient? Do I have your permission, kordari?”
His jaw tensed, but he didn’t retort. “This is your place of work, not mine. I’ll take my leave.” He nodded. “It’s good to see you awake, Dawnblaze.”
She leaned over him, gently touching around the deep wounds. “You scared me. I told you to be careful,” she said without looking into his eyes. Something warm fell on him, and he caught her surreptitiously wiping her eye. “This is healing clean, but I don’t like this one.” She moved to check one of the wounds lower on his ribs, and he grabbed her wrist.
“Look at me,” he said.
Her warm eyes were bloodshot, with the telltale spots of blood he’d seen before. Her usually golden skin was pale, and she looked exhausted. “You almost died to bring me back.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said. “Your friend stopped me and almost got you killed.”
“He did exactly what he should have,” he said. “And I’m fine.”
She sighed. “Because of Irazia.”
“Because of you,” he said. He squeezed her hand. “Is there any chance I can get out of this bed?”
“No,” she said. “You’re still a mess.”
“But I want to talk to you,” he said. “I missed you.”
Her angry gaze finally softened. She looked over her shoulder, then sat down on the stool, leaning in close to him so she could rest her head next to his. “This will have to do.”
Clasping her hand gently, he turned so he could look right into her eyes. She smelled of flowers and medicine, and the faintest hint of honey. She smelled like home, where he was meant to be. “I wanted to walk in the gardens with you and tell you about this.”
“The gardens are destroyed,” she said sadly.
“They will regrow,” he said. He pressed his forehead to hers, relishing the warmth of the connection between them. “I think I saw the Skymother.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“Maybe,” he said. “She was beautiful. Very kind. And she told me that I could come back if I wished.” He raised his eyebrows. “She said that someone was still calling out for me.”
“It must have been a dream,” she said, her brow furrowing.
“I heard you saying ‘please come back to me.’ Was that a dream?”
Her eyes widened. “No,” she murmured. “You really heard me?”
“I think so. You were like a comet in the sky, too bright to ignore. And she said to tell you that you don’t have to shout.” Her lips curved into a smile. “Maybe it was a dream. Maybe not.”
“Clearly my shouting worked,” Sohaila said.
“Clearly.” He squeezed her hand tighter, shifting uncomfortably to enclose it in his hands. “When can I leave here with you?”
“A few more days,” she said. “I feel a bit guilty, but we haven’t healed you much. Once you were stable, we practically covered you in thelveran, gave you a couple of strong brews so you’d sleep through it, and moved on.”
“You shouldn’t feel guilty,” he said. “Have you been helping others?”
“Day and night.” Her gaze darkened. “There’s been so many people wounded.”
“Then you’re doing the right thing, and I’m proud of you,” he said. “You aren’t my personal healer.”
“Well, I am yours, aren’t I?” she said quietly.
His heart leaped. “Come closer to tell me that.” She smiled mischievously and leaned in, kissing him with a slow, gentle brush of her lips. “I didn’t catch that.” With a laugh, she nipped lightly at his upper lip. “Once more?” She kissed his ear, then let her fingers graze through his hair. They touched a sore spot, and he winced.
“Sorry,” she murmured.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Now, about that promise I made you. When I finally get out of this bed, where are we going first?”
“I’m sorry you have to baby-sit me,” Marlena said as she followed Sohaila down the side street. Ahead of them, three men worked to move a giant chunk of stone out of the road. As they tilted it up, a blue-scaled dragon landed on the edge and helped guide it onto a cart.
“For the last time, it’s not a problem,” Sohaila said gently. “It’s nice to spend time with someone who isn’t growling at me about my best interests.”
Marlena chuckled. She frowned, pitching her voice low to imitate Velati. “You can be angry if you want, sister. I know what’s best for you and I don’t care if you don’t like it.”
Sohaila laughed, then paused to check her surroundings. “Which way is it…”
“This way,” Virnan said. He lingered behind them as they walked through the city, but stepped between them to point ahead. “We can cut through here.”
Farath was irreparably changed by the fierce battle that had raged a week ago. The beautiful patchwork of wood and stone was scarred. Rubble and debris were strewn across every street. In several places, deep craters had rendered the roads impassable.
For the first few days after the battle’s end, the combined forces of the Broodguard climbed through the ruins in search of survivors. Bodies lay in the streets, some long dead, some barely clinging to life, and many soulstruck by the Aesdar’s gaze. She would never forget the horrors she had seen, climbing over rock to find crushed bodies holding hands. They had saved some, but they had lost far too many.
But perhaps the Skymother had worked in mysterious ways. When the Aesdar attacked, they’d left hundreds of soulstruck in the streets. Some of them were warriors who might have kept fighting, but being stricken as they were had left them lying comatose instead of fighting to their deaths.
Furthermore, Halmerah’s efforts to protect her people had paid off. When Marlena flew in and threw the first blow, someone sounded an alarm that rang throughout the city. Thousands of people had huddled in cellars and sewers, avoiding the deadly crossfire. Things were ugly, but they could have been so much worse.
Makeshift hospitals had been set up across the city, taking in all who needed aid. Dozens of the Marashti had arrived from Greenspire two days ago to help. She had been overjoyed to see Ayla with the others in the healing pavilion, bruised and shaken, but still whole. Both too exhausted to heal anymore, they had spent that first evening working together to bandage wounds and deliver healing teas to the huddled crowds gathered in the marketplace.
“The Bearded Dragon,” Marlena mused, staring up at a cracked wooden sign. “I know a few of those.”
Thanks to Sohaila’s attention and the elixir that pumped through her veins, even the worst of Marlena’s wounds were mostly healed. She still seemed stiff and sore, though that could have been from lying in bed for days. It concerned Sohaila more that Marlena wasn’t quite herself all the time. She wasn’t lost and helpless like some of the Aesdar, but there was an unsteadiness about her. Sometimes she drifted off mid-sentence, her brow furrowed as if she saw something on the horizon. Sohaila wasn’t sure if it was simply the shock of the battle and her transformation
, or if something was truly wrong with her.
Once Marlena woke from her well-deserved sleep, Velati had barely left her alone, always assigning a female soldier to stay with her in case something happened. After two days of constant surveillance, Marlena had exploded and demanded to help Sohaila instead. Though she had no healing skills, she was content to handle mundane tasks as long as she got out of bed.
The large tavern looked like something had bitten a chunk out of the front wall. The roof was partially torn off, but someone had rigged a large awning of linen just above the opening. Two of the Adamant Guard, their blue uniforms dusty and disheveled, stood just outside with linen-wrapped bundles of food. “Sister,” one of them greeted.
She nodded. “Good morning,” she said politely. Inside the tavern’s main room, most of the large dining tables had been covered with linens and pillows, turned into triage beds. Meanwhile, the living quarters had been converted to private rooms. Across the city, two more inns, a dressmaker’s shop, several warehouses, and a dance hall had all been converted to temporary hospitals.
Inside, she examined a few broken bones and nasty burns before she spoke with a teenage Edra boy who reported severe headaches and nausea after being caught under a collapsing building near the marketplace. A quick examination revealed a small bleeding spot inside his skull, threatening to cause much worse problems for him. “Just a little bump,” she fibbed. “Close your eyes and think of a nice, warm summer day.” Her power flowed into him, directing the blood to absorb while the broken vessels healed.
“Thank you,” he murmured, leaning into her touch. “It hurt really bad before, but I didn’t want to scare my mom.”
“I know,” she said. She squeezed his shoulder. “But you should never be ashamed to ask for help if you’re suffering. Stay here for a few more minutes, and I’ll check on you again before you go.”
On her way to the private rooms, a young woman intercepted her with a plate of bread and a cup of weak wine. “Sister,” she said politely. “Something for your strength.”
Marlena took it from her and said, “Thank you.”
Together, they walked into the first room, leaving Virnan at the door to keep watch. The woman sleeping there was Kadirai, one of the Iron Blade soldiers who’d been soulstruck. Her smooth face was slack. Her chest rose and fell slowly, barely perceptible. “Look in my notebook,” Sohaila said. “This is Shirahzi Flamesinger.”
“I still don’t how know you remember all their names,” Marlena said.
“The same way you remember all of your soldiers,” Sohaila said. She donned a pair of light gray gloves, then gently pried up the woman’s eyelid. Shirahzi’s dark eyes were still glazed over, unfocused even with the light shining in. She didn’t dare make a connection to the woman, which would run the risk of entangling her. Instead, she glanced back at Marlena. “How many visits is this?”
“This is your fourth,” Marlena said. She set down the notebook and turned so Sohaila could reach into the leather backpack she carried.
Sohaila took out a jar of fragrant ointment and the wooden case containing the antidote she’d brewed for the soulstruck. Without using elixir, the weaker cure took longer, but it also didn’t offend the sensibilities of her patients or her fellow healers. Once she’d explained it, with Irazia’s support, most of the visiting Marashti had gladly donated blood for the catalyst.
She took out one of the vials, then added a few drops into the translucent red base. The liquid began to bubble, emitting thin tendrils of steam. While she stirred the potent mix, she spoke. “What comes next for you?”
“Well, we’re to see Sidran at noon,” Marlena said with a dark look.
The name sent a chill down Sohaila’s spine. Before leaving the citadel that morning, she’d been told to get Marlena back when the noon prayer bells rang. “Indeed. I meant after that,” she said gently. “Are you going home to your world?”
“Home,” Marlena said. “What a strange idea.” She put on her own gloves and lifted Shirahzi’s shoulders gently. Sohaila draped a cloth over the unconscious woman’s head, then held the bowl beneath her nose to let her inhale the fumes. “I guess I’d like to go back there some day and settle down, but it’s not my first priority. It’s naïve for us to think this is completely over.”
“Agreed,” Sohaila said.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Marlena said. “I’ve had enough fighting and death for a dozen lifetimes. But fighting for this place…it makes me think all of this wasn’t a mistake.” Her green eyes fixed on Sohaila. “And you? Will you ever go back to the temple?”
“To stay? No,” Sohaila said firmly.
“You sound so certain.”
“I am,” she said. “I was proud of my position there. I might have become the head of all the Marashti some day. But just one day here has been more fulfilling than all the days I sat on the Circle.”
Shirazhi gasped, arms flailing wildly. Sohaila dodged and set the bowl aside as Marlena plucked the cloth from over her head. Her dark eyes were wide and frantic. “What? Where am…what?” she breathed, her voice hoarse. She groaned, clapping one hand to her forehead.
“Welcome back,” Sohaila said politely. “Do you remember your name?”
The woman hesitated, frowning. She looked down at her body, then at her hands, turning them over slowly. “Sh…Shirahzi. I was flying through the night, and then…” Her eyes went wide. “Is it still here?”
“No,” Marlena said kindly. “The fight is over. We won.”
“Oh. Good,” Shirahzi said. Then her shoulders lurched up. Sohaila whirled to grab the large basin in the corner while Marlena grabbed her thick hair and held it back. She got the basin under Shirahzi’s face just in time for the woman to vomit noisily. She groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re not the first,” Marlena said, gently combing back her hair. “You’ll feel better in a minute.”
They had a routine now, and within ten minutes, they had Shirahzi up and walking around the small room. After helping her wash quickly, they called for clean clothes and walked her to the common room for a weak broth and tea.
They continued down the hall, administering the cure to a dozen more patients. Most of them continued to sleep, but two more woke and eventually joined Shirahzi to eat and begin recovering their senses. She looked forward to the day that this place was filled with happy, punch-drunk people again.
On their way out, Sohaila stopped to check the Edra boy again. He was munching on a piece of fruit and waved as she approached. She held up her finger in front of his face. “Look at this,” she said, moving it slowly from side to side. His pupils followed. Then she touched his jaw lightly, sending her power into him once more. The place she’d healed was still weakened, but would heal nicely on its own. “No rough playing for a while. Understand?”
“Yes, sister,” he said.
“And don’t shift.” His face fell. “I’m serious. At least a week.”
“Yes, sister,” he said glumly. “I won’t.”
She patted his cheek. “Be well.”
With that, the boy scrambled to his feet and hurried out of the tavern. Sohaila checked on the newcomers, taking care of a few minor injuries and offering reassurance for a few others. Finally, they heard the sonorous bells from the citadel, signaling noonday prayers.
“Guess it’s time to have a chat with Sidran,” Marlena said, shoulders sinking as they walked out into the sunlight.
“Are you feeling up to it?”
“I think so. I haven’t even used it since I came back, but it’s here.” She turned over her palm, producing a bright orb of white. Then she closed her fist, extinguishing it. “I’m scared. I don’t know how I’ll feel to see him.”
“Me either,” Sohaila said. “But I’ll be there with you.”
She nodded. “It’s good to have a friend.” Her green eyes widened, and she looked almost childlike. “Are we friends, Sohaila? Now that everything is over…”
&nb
sp; “I don’t know if your world defines friendship differently, but I’d say we are,” she said. “I don’t have very many myself, but I’m glad we are.”
She beamed. “Me too.”
Virnan bowed politely. “Are you ready to go?”
“No, but I don’t think that’s up to me,” Marlena said with a sad smile. “Let’s go.”
The dungeon below Adamantine Rise was dark and musty. The cells were all occupied. Muffled shouts echoed around them. Some begged for freedom while others swore Vystus’s vengeance upon the Kadirai. Sohaila shuddered, keeping her head down. She trailed after Marlena, who followed a uniformed guard down the narrow hall. At the end of the hall, two guards were posted at a heavy metal door.
The small chamber beyond the door was dimly lit. Chains dangled empty from the ceiling. At the center of the room was a heavy iron chair, practically a throne. Still dressed in his torn, stained robe, Sidran was shackled to the chair at his wrists and ankles. A blindfold covered his eyes, and a thick piece of fabric was stuffed into his mouth.
Velati watched silently. Lotheraos Skyborne stood at his side. He’d been soulstruck, and probably should have been resting still. His skin was pale, but anger sharpened his gaze. Another man, huge even compared to Kaldir, stood with them. Farikul Frostbane was another of the Arik’tazhan, though she hadn’t met him until he arrived in the healing pavilion with Viraszel to check on Kaldir a few days earlier.
Before moving toward Sidran, Velati gestured subtly to Marlena. He pulled her in close and kissed her temple, then whispered in her ear. She’d finally asked, and Marlena had told her they sometimes spoke English, which was her first language.
Velati’s soft expression was only for Marlena. As soon as she pulled away from him, his blue eyes went ice cold again. He summoned a wickedly sharp spear of ice, then placed it under Sidran’s chin. Sidran jolted with a tiny yelp, trying in vain to squirm away. Lotheraos reached over and pulled the gag out of the man’s mouth, then removed the blindfold.
He blinked furiously, looking around the room. Then he sneered. “You think I’m powerless, I’ll—”