“Hot water, yes.” She removed the cloth. I watched her dip it in a bowl of crystal liquid and then she slapped it again on my hand.
“Ow,” I snarled.
“The blood needs to circulate.”
We both watched the cloth.
“Who taught you English?” I asked.
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I figure the only way I'll get a straight answer is by asking a straight question.”
She removed the cloth. “Look.”
I looked down at my hand and blinked. “What's that?” I asked, lifting my hand to the light to better it see.
“You tell me.”
The burn marks and blisters on my hand created an elongated shape stretched lengthwise along my palm; the sort with too much precision to be coincidental. It was too swollen to make out what the shape might resemble, but a tingle ran down my spine.
“Take it away from the light,” she said.
I obeyed, too curious to argue. As I moved my hand into the shadows by my bed, the shape shimmered silvery-blue.
“That's an interesting wound,” she remarked.
I nodded, my mouth agape.
“Give me your other hand.”
I obliged, bracing myself for the pain I knew would come. “I'm Key,” I told her, more for something to say than because I thought she cared.
She looked up; her mouth twisted again in that annoying smile. “Who has broken English?”
I scowled. “No, it's my name.”
She began peeling the bandage away. “Ah.”
“What's yours?” I asked through clenched teeth.
She pulled the last bit off and examined the wound. “Sasha.” She slapped the cloth onto my palm.
I bit my lip hard. After a moment I dared to breathe. “Sasha.”
“That's what I said.”
“Well, for what it's worth, it's nice to meet you.”
She arched a brow. “Nice? You really are mental, aren't you?”
I shrugged. “Heck if I know.”
“How did you get these wounds?”
I tried a shrug but received a scalding glare for my efforts. Apparently, she didn't like wiggling patients. “Like Crenen said, I got into some bad water.”
“And that caused identical afflictions on both palms.
I met Sasha's icy eyes and held them. “Yes.”
Her mouth twisted into a scowl once again, but she said nothing.
I tried to think of something else to say, but she only poked and prodded harder each time I drew breath to speak. I finally took the hint and shut up.
Once she finished bandaging my hands, she stood. “You'll live,” she pronounced in a tone that nearly sounded disappointed.
“Thanks so much.”
“Any time.” I knew she was only offering an encore of the painful parts. “Now,” she walked over to the fire and shook Crenen's shoulder, “I understand I've got another patient, yes?”
Crenen cracked one eye open and looked up at her. “We need getting back by night.”
“You realize we haven't much time until then. Is it far?”
He shook his head. “Not if we take theshers, yeah?”
“Theshers?” I asked.
“We show, but first need to be redressing.” Crenen stood and pointed to some clothing draped over the footboard of my bed.
I glanced down. I was currently wrapped in a loose white tunic that reached my knees. I glanced at the doctor. “Your patient apparel?”
She nodded curtly.
“Strange Coward Boy get acquainted with Screechy Hurting Doctor, yeah?” Crenen asked.
I threw the doctor a grimace. “Somewhat.”
She strode back to her chair, turned it to face the window, and sat down, her back in my direction. “Hurry and get dressed. I'll respect your privacy.”
I peeled the tunic from my body, then grabbed the garments Crenen had pointed out. And stared. “Er. How...do you get this thing on?” I couldn't tell the sleeves from the neckline.
Crenen chuckled and separated the different layers of clothing, handing me what appeared to be a Paradisian version of an undershirt. I already had on what looked like boxers, and they had even supplied my feet with a pair of very itchy socks. Both were black, as was the undershirt.
“You guys sure like black.”
“Good for blending in dark trees, yeah?” Crenen handed me the long-sleeved shirt that went over the first one. It was softer than the socks.
It wasn't easy work, attempting to dress myself with two bandaged, tender hands, but with Crenen's aid, coupled with my determination, I managed to get the matching baggy, black pants on, tie them around my hips, then watch Crenen wind leather wraps around my arms and lower legs. He removed the itchy socks and continued winding the soft leather around my feet. I had to admit, it was much more comfortable than my hospital wardrobe
“And finishing touch,” Crenen said, flashing a grin. He returned to the chair by the fire and lifted a long, cerulean-blue cloth in his hands. “Keep Strange Coward Boy more warmer,” he explained, in case I had any complaints, which I hadn't.
I allowed him to drape the cloth over my shoulders, and around my neck, making the cloak hang long on the left side, and allowing my right hand freedom by draping it shorter on the right. He stepped back and examined me, nodding in approval.
“Look better. Less girly, yeah?”
It was probably true, so I didn't argue. Besides, I was clean, well dressed, and warm; three things I'd sorely missed. Now I only needed food and some more sleep and I'd really believe this was heaven.
“That won't do,” Sasha said when she looked me up and down.
Crenen raised an eyebrow.
She scowled and crossed the room, her strides long and graceful. She reached a shelf covered in parchment, vials, and herbs, and grabbed a wooden comb, a handheld mirror, and thin leather cord. She grabbed my elbow and sat me down on the bed, which suited me fine, as my legs had been ready to buckle. As I felt the comb's teeth fight the tangles, I realized my hair was much longer than I'd thought. I reached back and ran my fingers through the locks. They just brushed against my shoulders, covering the nape of my neck. “When'd that happen?”
“Been growing all this time,” Crenen said.
“Yes, hair has a tendency to do that,” Sasha said dryly.
I scowled. “Yeah, but it's never grown as quickly as it does in this place.”
Sasha took a thick strand of my hair and wound the cord around it, tying it off at the end. She handed me the mirror.
I studied my honey-colored hair, now long and sleek, hanging like a curtain around my face. Only the one lock was caught in the leather cord. “I thought you were tying it all back.”
“It's not long enough for that yet. It would slip out. But it's not tangled now, and you look more natural.”
“More Paradisian, yeah?” Crenen said.
I couldn't help but smile. I had to admit it was cool to wear the traditional garb of these strange and fantastical people.
“Was difficult finding outfit small enough to be fitting on Strange Coward Boy,” Crenen remarked.
I wilted. “Thanks.”
“Now,” Crenen said, “we go get theshers!”
Theshers turned out to be horses, or similar, at any rate. My thesher was a massive, black beast with—you guessed it—sharp teeth. Carnivorous horses. Terrifying. To make matters worse, they all had creepy yellow eyes. It took some coaxing to get me near the animal, even as weak as I was. Finally, Crenen dragged me over to where our mounts were tethered to a stump, threatening to gut me should I remain stubborn.
After I was tied to the horse (so I wouldn't jump off), Crenen mounted his meat-eating monster and Sasha climbed up behind me in the huge saddle that was strapped around the huge belly of my steed. Now I was not only stuck with the horrible beast (who might breathe fire at any second) but I was also stuck with Screechy Hurting Doctor (who had yet to prove the first part of her C
renen-name, which worried me).
“We go now, yeah?” Crenen urged his thesher forward.
Sasha reached around me and gripped our reins. “Hold on.”
I scowled. To what? My hands couldn't clutch anything. (I guess that might be the other reason they tied me up.)
My family had owned horses when I was very young, but I would never go near the stables because I was terrified the animals would bite me. Though I eventually understood that horses don't eat people, I never quite trusted them. And now I had good reason.
As soon as Sasha spurred the thesher onward, the nasty beast growled. It was a deep, predatory sound, and my spine stiffened. Never mind wanting to get off the creature. The second I slid from its saddle I would be consumed.
The Paradisian horse was fast; extremely fast. It was everything I could do to keep from falling back against the lady doctor and I prayed the ride would end soon, if only for the sake of my backside.
Crenen and Sasha didn't take pity on me. We rode harder and faster than I thought I could handle, yet still we pressed on. I knew we had to, for Chasym’s sake, but I wondered how much of me would be left after all the rattling. The last rays of sunlight stretched across the edge of the sky as we tore through the everlasting forest. The stray light had taken on a purple hue, reminding me of the constant chill in the air lately.
“Is winter coming?” I managed to ask despite the rough ride and the blasting air in my face.
“Naturally,” Sasha said.
“Hey, give me a break. I'm not from around here, you know.”
“A desert dweller then?”
“No.” I glanced at Crenen galloping ahead of us. Apparently, he hadn't informed her of who I was. It was unusual for him to keep quiet about Vendaeva, but I wasn't going to argue.
“Where did you previously reside?” she asked, sounding only half interested.
“At my house.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Look, I'd tell you but it's really not that important. I'm unfamiliar with this place; that's all anyone needs to know.”
The thesher leaped over a fallen maple pine and the blood drained from my face. Was she trying to kill us?
Sasha took a deep breath. “Why is Crenen so interested in you? What does he have to gain by keeping you alive?”
I blinked. When she put it that way, it sounded incredible—more incredible than before. Ridiculous, in fact. “That's a good question. I don't really know his motives.” I shrugged. “You've known him longer, you tell me.”
She twisted the reins in one clawed hand. “Who is the injured person?”
“Chasym. He was attacked by a Seer.” I winced, realizing I might have given her too much information. Crenen probably had his reasons for not telling her.
“A Seer? Suddenly they all come crawling out of the woodwork.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered.
The thesher jumped over another fallen tree, and I glanced down against my will. A shadow flickered across the ground beneath us. I would’ve assumed it was the thesher's shadow, but it had eyes. Glowing eyes. Last I'd checked, normal shadows didn't.
“Oy, Crenen! We're being followed!”
Sasha stiffened, but I didn't offer an explanation. Crenen glanced back at me, his eyes narrowed.
“Is certain?” he called back.
I nodded.
Crenen hissed and stared at the ground. “Speed up, Screechy Hurting Doctor!” He snapped his reins and the huge beast lurched into a lightning-fast gallop. Sasha followed suit.
Twenty minutes more brought us to the pool at our neck-breaking speed, but that time took an age as I watched the ground. Occasionally Crenen glanced back and nodded whenever I shrugged my report. No sign of pursuit.
When we pulled the theshers to a halt before the glistening pool of evil water, I chewed my lip, waiting for Sasha to untie me; then slid from the saddle with little thought of what the horse might do if I got too near. I couldn't care less about carnivorous beasts when we were under threat of another Seer attack.
“They're back!” a female voice cried happily.
I looked around and spotted Veija standing in the shadows of the gerani tree. Jenen stepped out from behind her and sprinted toward us. He looked strange without his silver shawl.
Crenen slapped his thesher's flank and both creatures took off, disappearing in the forest gloom. He and Sasha joined me.
The doctor gasped. “Jenen?” She darted forward and slapped him. “Where did you go? Why didn't you ever come back?”
Jenen touched the red spot on his face. “If you're a doctor now, you should be more concerned with your patient.”
Her eyes sparkled like icicles. “Show me where he is.”
They started back toward the gerani tree, but before we followed, I stopped Crenen.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
Crenen shrugged. “Sick Nasty Dog never say goodbye to Screechy Hurting Doctor before he leave. She stewed for Long Hurtful Days about it.”
I blinked. “So, she, I mean...were they...a couple?”
Crenen laughed. “No, but many Big Scary Rumors circulated around Realm of Yenen, yeah?” He winked. “Come, we go watch.” He sauntered toward the tree.
I caught up and walked beside him. “What about that shadow?”
“Nothing can be doing but wait, yeah?”
I supposed that was true.
Hidden out of view, thanks to the gerani tree, gaped the entrance to a cave. As Veija directed us inside, I swiped a bunch of gerani from the tree and hid it under my blue cloak, ignoring my throbbing hand.
The cave entrance was a four-foot-wide, seven-foot-high tunnel that lasted for a hundred yards before it opened into a massive room lit by several torches. As we entered, a cold draft swept down from above to play with my hair.
Chasym had been placed in a bed carved from the rock. The mattress looked surprisingly soft, and when I investigated, I discovered that it was stuffed with thousands of down feathers. Chasym’s flesh was white, his breathing rattling, his strength waning.
Sasha neared the bed. “You're joking. This is the creature you want me to save?”
I glared at her. “What of it?”
She folded her arms. “You can't expect me to help an enemy.”
“Of course not.” Lon's voice carried across the room. I looked toward the entrance where he stood. “We're asking you to aid a dying friend.”
She scoffed, but when no one disputed Lon's claim, she stared. “You can't be serious. This creature? You can't possibly be his friend.”
“Sasha,” Jenen said, his quiet voice penetrating the tension. “It's exactly this attitude that has put our people at odds with all of Paradise. Such prejudice has killed more than any sword ever could—and it created swords to begin with.”
“But he's of They,” she hissed, showing her own sharp teeth.
I grabbed the shawl and whipped it away to reveal Chasym’s blood-soaked bandages. “I don't care what he is,” I said. “Only who he is.”
She narrowed her blue eyes on me, baring her teeth. “You expect me to listen to you—a foreigner?”
Veija stepped forward.
“He is not a foreigner! He's Vendaeva.”
“We're wasting time,” Jenen murmured.
Sasha didn't hear him. She was staring at Veija as though she were insane (which might be a disputable point). “Ridiculous. Vendaeva doesn't exist. That's only a myth.”
“It's real, Sasha.” Crenen said.
Her eyes lit on me, their depths flickering with the glow from the torches. “This boy?”
I bit back a retort about her not being much older. My height probably threw off her judgment anyway.
“Please focus,” Jenen said with a sigh. “Vendaeva isn't the issue. Chasym is.”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
She broke off eye contact with me and gazed at the still form in the bed. “But—”
“Help him,” Crenen said, his to
ne authoritative.
The lady doctor hesitated, then inclined her head, though I caught a glimmer of defiance in her eyes as she bowed. “As you command, my lord.” She knelt beside the bed and touched Chasym's forehead. Then she shifted the bandages. “There isn't enough light. I can't work in here.”
“Yes, you can,” I said. “C'mere, Liitae.”
The little orb floated down from the ceiling where it had been playing with the drafts of air. It flitted above my palm and pulsed.
“Give us some light. And no goofing off.”
The orb bobbed and, floating into the air, focused all its light down on Chasym, scattering the shadows.
“Better?” I asked.
She glanced warily at the orb. “It'll do.”
“Excellent,” Crenen said. “Now, Strange Coward Boy, get sleep.”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
“Don't be foolish, Key,” Lon said, still standing at the cave's entrance. “Chasym is in capable hands, you may rest.”
“No.” I shook my head again. “Not until I eat.” I raised the gerani bunch before me. “And don't anyone try and stop me.”
“You tell 'em, Jase,” Chasym mumbled.
I jumped, heart missing a beat. Sure enough, he was awake, a smirk on his colorless lips.
“Hey there, Chazzy.”
“I want one.” He stared at the grapes in my hand.
I knelt and plucked one from the bunch. “Here, but only one.”
“Hold on—” Sasha began.
“Hurry, she steps on 'em.”
He opened his mouth and I tossed it inside.
“Do you mind?” Sasha asked, shoving me aside. “Vendaeva or not, he’s my patient.”
I stood back up and smiled as I watched Chasym go back to sleep, the effect of the gerani already taking its toll. “He really can't handle them.”
“Smart move,” Lon said from beside me, making me jump again. “Now he won't feel a thing while she works.” His eyes glittered as he observed his friend.
“Probably his intention all along.”
“Now, eat,” Lon directed me, “and then get some sleep. If those dark circles are any indication, you'll fall down dead if you don't get proper rest.”
I plopped down on the ground and munched on the Paradisaical Purple Fruit. “Believe me, no one knows better than I.”
A Liar in Paradise Page 21