The pain hit him immediately, a sledgehammer against his raw nerves.
He gasped and instinctively tried to curl up in a protective ball but doing so jolted his leg and he screamed from the pain. It felt like all of his skin was being ripped away.
His scream woke Omar, who was there in an instant, leaning over him with wide, frightened eyes. “Gerald! It’s okay, it’ll be okay. What can I do?”
Gerald gritted his teeth until the pain faded enough to speak. “Make it stop hurting,” he gasped. The waves started washing over him again, trying to pull him back under, but he fought to stay awake.
“I’ll get help,” Omar said but Gerald grabbed his arm as he turned to go.
“Don’t leave me alone,” he begged. Tears of pain were running down his face.
“But I don’t know what to do!” Omar cried. “I can’t—I can’t make it stop hurting. I have to get help.”
Gerald shut his eyes as another shock of pain radiated up from his leg. If he let Omar go, sleep would pull him under again and he would drown in it…but at least it hadn’t hurt when he was asleep. It hadn’t hurt, but he knew—somehow—it would kill him.
With an effort, he loosened his grip on Omar’s arm. “Hurry,” he gasped.
Omar took off running, shouting for the dragon. Gerald gritted his teeth and looked around, trying to figure out where he was. There was a mattress under him, a real one; the walls around him were stone, but he wasn’t in an ordinary cave. He didn’t know how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was a rush of fire. The memory sent another wave of pain jolting up his leg and he bit his tongue to keep from crying out. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
Omar ran back in, gasping for breath. Gerald couldn’t say how long he’d been gone. “Calin’s coming,” Omar panted, reaching out and taking Gerald’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Gerald didn’t know who Calin was, but he nodded anyway. He didn’t trust himself to speak.
After another disjointed interval of time, another figure came running into the room. Disoriented, Gerald thought it was a statue, that he was hallucinating a statue come to life, but as it came closer, he realized it was a living being—gray hair, skin, eyes, and all.
“Calin!” Omar said in relief.
Calin leaned over Gerald and snapped, “You’re fighting the healing spell! Why?”
Gerald blinked at her and tried to fight past the pain long enough to respond. After another timeless struggle, he managed to say, “I’m drowning.” A bit of blood dripped out of the corner of his mouth as he spoke, and Omar widened his eyes in panic.
“We have to move him,” Calin said. “He needs the healer and the dragons can’t fit in here.”
“I’ll carry him,” Omar said. “Lead the way.”
Gerald cringed away when Omar started to slide an arm under his shoulders. “No!” he cried. “No, it hurts!”
“I know, I know,” Omar said soothingly. “But they’ll make it stop hurting. We have to get you there. I’ll be careful.”
And he was, doing his best not to jar Gerald’s leg and not to touch any of the bandages wrapped around him, but Gerald still screamed when he lifted him off the bed, blanket and all.
“It’s okay!” Omar said. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Then, to Calin, “Let’s go!”
He hurried after her, murmuring reassurances to Gerald, who only moaned in response.
When they reached the dragons, who were crammed together in the reception area, Gerald was breathing in ragged gasps and was only semi-conscious. Omar set him down as gently as he could, keeping the blanket between Gerald and the stone floor and then sitting behind him to hold him upright.
“He’s fighting the spell,” the unfamiliar dragon—the healer—said. “He shouldn’t be awake, or in this much pain.”
“Cast it again!” their dragon growled, mantling its wings in agitation.
“He said he was drowning,” Calin said at the same time the healer shook its head.
“He’s having a reaction to the spell,” the healer said. “I have to take it off entirely. We have herbs for the pain. Calin?”
She was already rummaging through her basket of supplies. “This is already prepared,” she said, drawing out a jar. “How much?”
The healer cocked its head in thought and then said, “Two—no, three drops.”
“That much?”
“He’ll need it when the spell comes off.”
Calin pried Gerald’s jaws open with hands as strong and cool as the stone they resembled and used a hollow reed to drip the milky white liquid down his throat, drop by careful drop.
After several long, agonizing minutes, Gerald’s breathing calmed and some of the rigid tension left his muscles.
Then, with a gesture, the healer pulled the rest of its spell away and Gerald’s eyes popped open. “Oh!” he said in surprise. “I can breathe…but…oh, it hurts again.”
“I’m sorry,” the healer said. “The herbs are slower to take effect. We cannot give you more so soon.”
Gerald nodded and leaned back against Omar, who wrapped his arms around Gerald. Gerald could feel his hands shaking as the adrenaline began to wear off. “What went wrong with the healing spell?” Omar demanded.
“Nothing,” the healer said, affronted. “The spell worked perfectly. But it did not…agree…with your friend.” It turned its attention back to Gerald. “Have you had any major healing spells before?” it asked.
“No,” Gerald said drowsily. “I’ve always been healthy. I’ve never even broken a bone.”
“Not a built-up resistance, then,” it said. “Perhaps it’s the draconic, hmm, accent to the spell?”
“Another design flaw!” their dragon broke in. “Honestly, you humans!”
“Does he need a spell?” Omar asked, choosing to ignore the dragon’s outburst. “Won’t the herbs work?”
The healer exchanged a long look with Calin before responding. “Well. He won’t die without a healing spell, if that’s what you’re asking. But it will be a very long, very slow, very painful recovery without magic. The pain potion has to be used cautiously. Too much of it will stop his heart. Not enough, and the burn will be agonizing. And the burn is quite severe. Without a spell…even with a spell, there will be lasting damage…not to mention the possibility of infection.”
Omar’s arms tightened around Gerald with each word the healer spoke. “Does your cousin Erick know any healing spells?” Omar asked Gerald. “If the problem is the draconic cast to the magic…”
“I don’t know,” Gerald said. His eyes were starting to close again. The medicine was chasing the worst of the pain away and exhaustion was replacing it. He forced his answer out slowly. “Probably. He seems to know…a little of…everything. But he’s leagues…and leagues away.”
“I’ll go fetch him,” the dragon offered, turning toward the exit even as it spoke.
“You’ll scare him half to death if you do,” the healer responded. “Humans don’t like dragons dropping in unannounced.”
“I’ll take Omar. Humans don’t mind other humans.”
“I can’t leave Gerald here by himself!” Omar protested.
“I’ll take care of him,” Calin said. “I’ve been trained for it.” The unspoken corollary—and you haven’t—echoed loudly in the air.
The healer nodded. “Calin has been my assistant for a long time and is more familiar with tending those without wings and scales.”
“How long will it take?” he asked the dragon.
“If you can sleep on my back while I fly…we can get to the Enchanted Forest in a day and a half. It shouldn’t take long to persuade his cousin. Then a day and a half back.”
Three days, at least. Make it four. Omar hesitated. “There’s no one closer?”
“There are no humans in the dragonlands. The other dragons can’t help any more than I can, and the piedlings have no healing magic. We need a human, and the closest towns are a half day’s flight. I canno
t know if they have healers in them, let alone if they would agree to travel to the dragonlands…or if the other dragons would allow them in. We’ve agreed to allow the royals. This cousin is the only royal healer I know of.”
But four days…anything could happen in four days. Omar didn’t want to leave Gerald for that long, not when he was hurt and in pain. “The two-way parchment,” he said suddenly. “What if I write to Erick, warn him you’re coming? You won’t be unannounced. And he already knows we’re traveling with a dragon…”
The healer shook its head before their dragon could respond. “And what will his reaction be when he learns why a dragon has come seeking him? Because another dragon has grievously injured his cousin? We’ve seen already how the young jump to conclusions. Both of you go or neither of you does.” It softened its tone to add, “He will sleep for most of the time you’re gone. And when he is not asleep, he will be muddled by the pain and the herbs. If you were here, he would only rarely be aware of it. The sooner you go, the sooner you will be back.”
“Go,” Gerald echoed faintly. Omar jumped—he had thought Gerald was asleep. “I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll take good care of him,” Calin said again. “My sisters will help. We will make a bed for him out here, so the healer can supervise as closely as needed.”
Omar looked from Gerald to Calin to the dragons and then back to Gerald. His eyes were still closed, and Omar thought he might have slipped into sleep for real this time. “All right,” he conceded. “All right. I’ll get the harness.”
Chapter Fourteen
GERALD SPENT THE next three days drifting in and out of consciousness. Even when he was awake, the pain and the medicine badly muddled his awareness. The dragon healer checked in on him regularly, but the actual tending was done by its assistant, who took care of changing his bandages, dosing him with potions, and performing all the other tasks the dragon was too large to manage comfortably. Gerald thought Calin was remarkably efficient until he finally noticed there were several different gray beings tending to him. They all looked like Calin.
“Of course they look like me,” she said, laughing. “They’re my sisters.”
Gerald thought of Lila and Vani. “My sisters don’t look anything like me.”
“It’s different for us piedlings,” she said. “‘Sister’ doesn’t mean the same thing for us.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Piedlings are female. All of us. We don’t reproduce the way you humans do. We form sisters out of ourselves, by ourselves. My sisters are individuals, but they are me, too. It helps us work in harmony. Our group is in charge of this suite of caverns; our affinity with stone created them, and we tend them and those residing in them. The dragons share their land and their protection with us, so we help them in return by carving new caverns, tending the livestock, or gathering and drying herbs.”
Gerald blinked at her. “Oh.”
Calin smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Just concentrate on getting better.”
He slipped back into sleep before he could ask anything more.
THE NEXT TIME he woke up, there was a soft, shapeless stuffed toy in his hand. He squinted at it in confusion and the piedling sitting at his bedside smiled and said, “You kept reaching out for something in your sleep. You stopped once we gave you something to hold.”
Gerald returned her smile and drifted off to sleep again.
WHAT WOKE HIM next was an urgent need to visit the bathroom. “I’ll get a bedpan,” Calin said after he mumbled an embarrassed request for help.
Gerald went white at the thought. “No, please, just help me to the bathroom.”
“You can’t walk!”
“Yes, I can,” he said stubbornly. The pain was still there, but he was aware of it without really feeling it. He threw the blanket aside and started to sit up before looking at himself and stopping abruptly. “Where—where are my pants?”
“We had to take them off to bandage your leg. They were essentially burnt off anyway.”
“I can’t walk around without pants on!”
“You can’t walk around at all!” Calin snapped, but she handed him a robe even as she said it.
Gerald pulled it on and then tried to swing his legs over the side of the bed. The pain hit him like a hammer when he tried to move his right leg, but he gritted his teeth and forced his feet to the floor.
“Stop it!” Calin scolded. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“Then—help—me,” Gerald said, forcing each word out painfully through his gritted teeth. He used the bed frame and the wall to lever himself to his feet and he stood there, swaying and sweating and glaring at the piedling. I can’t go any further than this, he admitted to himself. He couldn’t put any weight on his burned leg.
“Humans!” Calin threw her arms up in disgust and called for a sister. By leaning heavily on the two of them and hopping, Gerald was able to get across the cavern to the bathroom. The sisters waited impatiently outside the door and grumbled to each other about uncooperative patients until Gerald said they could come in to help him back.
But the thought of crossing the room again was a daunting one. Calin took one look at his face and threw her arms up again, apparently having come to the same conclusion.
“I should leave you in here,” she scolded. “You could sleep in the bathtub.”
“Calin!” her sister said, scandalized.
“What? You could do with a bath, you know,” she added to Gerald. “You’ve been wearing those clothes for days while you’ve been sweating with a fever. And we’re here anyway… Shall we help you into the tub?”
“I’ll change my clothes if you bring me some clean ones, but I’m not getting undressed in front of you.” The thought of bathing in front of them was possibly even more horrifying than the thought of using a bedpan had been. He squirmed internally, then, wondering what had been done about all that while he slept and drifted in and out of fever dreams. I don’t want to know, he decided. I’m awake now and I’m keeping all my clothes on!
“But why not?” the sister asked, sounding honestly confused.
“It’s because we’re female,” Calin said impatiently. “Humans have male and female, remember? He’s male. Females and males aren’t supposed to undress in front of each other.”
“Oh,” she said doubtfully. “That seems impractical.” She seemed to be referring to the entire idea of different sexes and not simply the nudity taboo, and if he had been in a bit less pain, Gerald might have found it amusing.
Calin ignored her and studied Gerald. “This is the longest you’ve stayed awake yet, but I still doubt you could bathe yourself now without falling asleep and drowning. We’ll have to make do with clean clothes. We’ll change the bedsheets, too.”
After Gerald was dressed in a fresh shirt and undergarments, with the robe pulled back on and tied around his waist, he felt a little more able to face the long hop back to his bed. His burned leg was starting to throb and lying down was sounding like a better and better idea with every passing moment.
“How long have I been asleep for?” Gerald asked as the piedlings helped him back across the caverns.
“Most of three days,” Calin replied.
“So Omar and the dragon might be back today?” he asked, perking up at the idea. “That’s what the dragon said, right? Three days? I don’t really remember very well,” he admitted. “I only remember it hurting, and them leaving…”
“Well, they’re coming back,” she said, “don’t fuss. I don’t know about today, though; more likely tomorrow. Now, please, lie down already! You’ve gone completely white. Take your medicine and go back to sleep. I don’t know why I let you talk me into letting you up in the first place. Next time, it’s the bedpan!”
Instead, there was a wheeled chair sitting next to his bed when he woke up again. Calin glared at him, daring him to comment, and Gerald wisely kept his mouth shut.
HE SLEPT AND woke and sle
pt again and the piedlings changed his bandages twice before he heard the familiar sounds of the dragon in flight. He had barely enough time to prop himself up on his elbows before the dragon swept inside with three figures waving from its back.
Three?
Omar was sliding down the dragon’s side almost even before it came to a complete halt, and Erick wasn’t far behind him. The third person remained on its back and Gerald was too distracted by the others to give their identity much thought.
He hadn’t realized how much he had missed Omar and the dragon until they were in front of him again. The dragon leaned over his bed anxiously and Gerald wrapped his arms as far around its head as he could reach to hug. It nudged him gently and, reassured Gerald wasn’t at death’s door, moved back far enough to be out of the way—but still close enough for Gerald to hear its reassuring, cat-like purr.
A pair of piedlings had brought extra chairs over to his bedside for the princes, but neither of them made a move to sit down. They both hovered nervously over Gerald exactly the way the dragon had done. Omar seemed to want to follow the dragon’s example and move in for a hug, but after a hesitation, he simply clasped Gerald’s arm.
“How are you?” he asked anxiously. “You’re still pale. Does it hurt a lot?”
“It hurts enough,” Gerald admitted. “The medicine helps.”
“I can’t believe you’re the one who got burned by a dragon,” Erick said, shaking his head. “I would’ve put money on it happening to Lila—I might have even paid money for it to happen to Lila—but you?” His tone was light, but there was worry in his normally mischievous green eyes.
“Tease me about it later, all right?” Gerald said. “Like after you cast a healing spell. Can you cast a healing spell?”
“Of course,” Erick scoffed. “I mean, I never studied them, but the principle is fairly straightforward…in theory. I’ll warn you, I can definitely deal with your pain and the fever, but as for the wound itself… Well, let’s take a look, shall we?” he said, reaching for the blanket covering Gerald’s legs.
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