by R W Foster
I shifted to Keeper Dearbhaile next. When I saw how bad she was hurt, I gasped. Her face was a swollen mass of bruises and contusions. Dearbhaile’s nose was off center and oozed blood. The fingers of her right hand were mangled and swollen. Her arm, from her elbow to her hand, was black and blue; broken. Her left shoulder was bunched and away from her body by about three inches. I knew it was dislocated. Dearbhaile’s right leg looked the same near her hip. I didn't know where to begin. I dithered for a couple of moments, then decided to clean her face a bit. I tried to be as gentle as I could, but Keeper Dearbhaile still awoke with a deep moan of pain.
“Ow. Why do I hurt so much?” She groaned.
“You were beaten pretty bad,” I answered.
“Who? Did ye—?”
“No. Your assailants were a half-demon Angriz called Belial and a young human girl.”
“Nae, Carter, that’s not what I meant.”
“Oh.” I flushed from embarrassment. “What did you mean?”
“Did ye stop them?”
“We did.”
“How bad be me wounds?” She asked with another moan.
“Well, you have several broken bones, a couple dislocated joints, numerous bruises and contusions.”
“What be a contusion?”
“It's a word in my world used to describe a cut with abrasions, scraped areas of flesh.”
“Oh. Here the word be ‘cut’.”
She closed her eyes and I thought she had fallen unconscious again. Then she spoke.
“In my pack be a small metal chest. Inside are gems. Eight o’ them.”
She paused for a moment, and swallowed. When she did, she moaned in pain. I got a water skin and lifted her head with tenderness so she could drink. After a couple of swallows, she turned away. I set the skin down and took care to be gentle when I lay her head back.
“Place th' gems at th' cardinal points and half way between them,” she continued. “Tell me when ye have finished.”
I was certain I knew what those were, but to be sure, I asked, “North, east, south and west, right?”
“Aye.”
I dug through her pack until I found the metal chest. It was bronze with gold filigree at the edges. There were intricate patterns that I couldn't understand etched in the bronze. I opened the chest. Inside were the gems set in red velvet. Each was set in its own recess and was a different shape. I was careful when I pulled the gems out and placed them on the ground in a wide circle. Each gem was at a point on a compass rose. At the center of the circle were myself and my friends. Not knowing why, I made certain that part of the river was also encircled.
“Keeper Dearbhaile,” I said, low voiced. “It is finished.”
“Excellent,” she said, wheezing with effort. Then, “Su rof emit pots. Dedeen si yad ruoh thgie na.”
As soon as she uttered the last word, she lapsed into unconsciousness. At the same time, a gold tinged translucent dome came into view. It began at the gems and rose to a height of almost seven meters. When it closed overhead, it vanished from my sight. I walked over to where I had seen the dome and reached out. I felt a spongy wall which gave a few inches, then shoved my hand back like it was rubber. I was a bit disconcerted to touch something had been visible and now wasn't. It reminded me too much of being blind. Shaking my head, I turned away from the invisible wall. I had work to do.
I strode to where Angriz lay. Looking down on him from this position, I noticed what I had missed before: his jaw was unhinged. I squatted down to determine how I might best grab his jaw to fix it. The sight of his massive fangs caused me to swallow hard. They were intimidating: triangular and serrated like a shark's teeth, but on a much larger scale. My fingers were going to get cut pretty bad by them. The worst part was I had no idea how the Bloodtaste worked. He might be overtaken by it once more. I sighed as a line from my favorite book series, The Sword of Truth, came to mind; “Nothing is ever easy.”
Knowing that nothing could be gained by further delay, I reached out and grasped Angriz by his jaw. The fingers of my right hand went into his mouth over his teeth as I held the point of his jawbone. I used my left hand for leverage and guidance and I tugged his jaw outward and swung it back into alignment. I cussed up a storm when his razor sharp fangs sliced my fingers open. His jaw went back into place with an audible click and I released the pressure. I took my hand out of his mouth and without thinking, placed the lacerated digits into my own to comfort them. Swearing like a sailor denied shore leave; I got up and went to the packs to get cloth for my fingers.
I wrapped my digits, not thinking about anything, when a gasping growl gave me a start. I whirled around to find Angriz sitting up with his hands clutching his head.
“By Vashara, my head hurts!”
I felt a huge grin grow on my face. I strode over to him, speaking as I went. “It is good you’re awake, Angriz!” I lowered my voice so I didn’t wake Dearbhaile.
He turned to look at me, dropping his hands and gaping. “What has happened to you, Carter?” he whispered.
I blinked in confusion, and followed his eyes to where he was looking. I discovered I was covered in a silvery white fluid. I then remembered being sprayed with Belial's blood after decapitating the half-demon. ‘That must be what it was.’
“That can wait until later, Angriz,” I said. “Right now we have bigger problems.”
“What is going on, Carter?”
“Keeper Dearbhaile is hurt. Come, I'll show you.”
I lead Angriz to where she lay. I knelt and pointed out the wounds I had noticed from my preliminary examination. The half-dragon growled, eyes flashing, at what had been done to our friend. He squatted down and stared at her injuries.
“They tortured her,” he said without inflection.
“Yes.”
“This is more than I know how to heal. Can you do anything?”
“Some. I'll need your assistance.”
He nodded in agreement. I directed him to gather wood to build a large fire not far from where she lay. I gathered our blankets and placed them near her. After the fire was going, we began with the easy stuff. I had Angriz wake her.
“Keeper Dearbhaile,” I said to her. “I need to learn where you are hurt. I need you conscious in order to do so, but you don’t have to speak unless necessary. Nod if you understand me.”
A slow nod.
“We need to remove your clothing to better examine you for injury.”
She nodded again. I directed Angriz in cutting away her robes. Though we were as gentle as we could be, she cried out from the pain.
“Carter,” Angriz whispered, “Why do we need her clothing off?”
“Because I can't look through them to see what injuries might be hidden by her clothes. Can you?”
He shook his head. I turned from him and skimmed my fingers over Keeper Dearbhaile’s body. I began at her skull and went downward, relying on her flinching to tell me where her injuries were. There was no reaction until I touched the area on her right side just beneath her breast. She arched her body, hard, away from my touch. I peered at the area. All I was able to detect was a dark red mark. There didn't appear to be any bruising, but I wanted to be certain. I pulled Angriz closer and had him take a look. I knew his vision was sharper than mine in low light.
“Do you detect any bruising?” I asked.
“None.”
“Damn it,” I swore. “I was afraid of that.”
“Why?”
“Without proper technology, I can't be positive, but I believe her lung is bruised, right here.”
“How can you tell?”
“By the discoloration of her skin. You see how it is a dark red?”
“Yes.”
“That is indicative of broken blood vessels deep within her body.”
“How bad is that?”
“Very. A bruised lung means it will be painful for her to breathe for at least a week. It also means we'll cause her immense pain when we go to put her shoulder bac
k in place.”
“Why will we cause her so much pain?” Worry sent his voice to a higher pitch than normal.
“Because her right side is the one you will have next to your body as your wrap your arms around her to hold her steady.”
“Could you not do the holding?”
“I could,” I said. “Two problems with that. One, I don't have the weight you do, so you'd lift both of us, not good. Two, do you know how to reset a dislocated joint?”
“No. How do you?”
“I was interested in joining the Army for a little while when I was ten and went to a camp where they taught us things like this. Now, stop asking so many questions,” I said, impatient. “They're slowing us down.”
I resumed my examination of Keeper Dearbhaile’s body. She was fortunate: other than the injuries I mentioned earlier, the worst thing I found was a sprained knee. I ordered Angriz to lay on the ground on her right side and wrap his massive arms around her torso. I took her left arm and stretched it out to her side. She screamed and her eyes rolled back into her head. I ignored this as I braced my feet and pulled her arm with a slow, smooth motion. Her shoulder popped back into its socket with a sound like someone punching thawed ground beef. She screamed again, then began to cry.
“Please, Carter,” she sobbed. “No more. It hurts!”
“I know,” I soothed. “That part is over. Just a few more minutes, then I'll be done, okay? Can you hold on for a few more minutes?”
She nodded as tears ran down her face. I rose and moved down to her legs. Seeing her dislocated hip up close caused a sigh to escape my lips. Angriz rolled to his feet and came over to me.
“What is wrong, Carter?” he asked.
I pointed at Keeper Dearbhaile’s hip. “I don't know if I can fix this,” I said. “I'm not sure I have the strength.”
He gripped my shoulder. “I have faith in you, Carter. You can do this.”
“Carter, ye can do this; I need ye tae,” Keeper Dearbhaile said, surprising me.
I hadn't realized she was still conscious. I sighed again.
“Alright; I will do my best,” I said. “I must warn you though: this will hurt a thousand times more than your shoulder did.”
“Do nae worry aboot that,” she said. “Just do it.”
Without another word, I positioned myself to pop her leg back into its proper place. I stood with my right foot by her left knee. My left foot was by her right hip. I bent and grasped her leg just above her right knee. She had the misfortune of the sprained knee being below the dislocated hip. She moaned when my hands touched the swollen joint. I ignored the sound and grasped her leg in a tight grip. I lifted her limb a bit as I pulled backward. As I knew it would be, re-setting this linkage was much more difficult than her shoulder had been. Sweat rolled down my forehead as she screamed in agony. In desperation, I yanked harder than I had intended. Her joint shot back into place with a meaty thunk.
Keeper Dearbhaile was silent. I looked up at her face and learned she was unconscious. I piled the blankets over her as Angriz gathered a few straight pieces of wood.
“Why are you covering her, Carter?”
“This is to help prevent shock.”
“What is shock?”
“Shock is a life-threatening medical condition as a result of insufficient blood flow throughout the body. It often accompanies severe injury or illness, and requires immediate treatment as symptoms can worsen fast. It can kill you,” I said.
“How do you know how to do these things?”
Angriz began to set Keeper Dearbhaile’s broken bones as we spoke.
“In my world, this knowledge is found in books and on the Internet.”
“What is this 'internet'?”
I paused, wondering how to explain in a way he'd understand. “The internet is like an oracle that can be accessed anywhere in the world.”
He paused in his work and looked up at me. “That is amazing. Can anyone speak to this oracle, or only priests?”
“Anyone can.” I said with a smile.
“Do you think she will live?”
“I don't know.” I checked her pulse. Although no longer thready, it was still weak. I wished I had studied something useful, like medicine, rather than theoretical physics.
“What are you doing when you press your fingers to her neck?”
“I'm checking her pulse. It's another way of checking how her heart is beating. Here, I'll show you.”
I took Angriz by his hand and placed his index and middle fingers along her carotid artery.
“Can you feel that pulse under your fingers?”
“I can,” he said with surprise.
“That is her blood flowing through her artery. It is the primary point that blood goes from her heart to her brain.”
“Amazing.” He seemed to think about that for a few minutes, and then went back to his ministrations.
“Angriz, don’t you know anything about battlefield medicine?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “There are healers who take care of the soldiers after battles.”
“What about if you aren’t in a battle with medics nearby?”
“That’s how I got these,” he said, indicating his scars.
Chapter 6
1
We relaxed by Keeper Dearbhaile, keeping watch over her. Something bothered me, but I couldn't put words to it. Angriz sat cross legged on one side of the fire and I on a log on another. She lay between us.
“Carter, a thought has been troubling me for a while: How do you recognize a lot about our world one moment, then, you profess to be almost unfamiliar with anything?”
I sighed, wondering how my big friend would react to what I intended to reveal. “In my world, Angriz, the Realm is part of a fantasy role playing game called 'BattleHammer.' The adventure is part acting, part story-telling, part war-game and part dice rolling. One person sets up the core of the story, describing the scene and controlling all the characters not controlled by his friends in the group. His friends control the main characters in the story. They grow and develop as they overcome challenges which the first person, called the Game Creator, develops.”
I paused and looked over at Angriz to gauge his reaction. He glanced over at me, his face blank, and indicated I should continue.
Bracing myself, I continued, “The character I controlled within the game was named, 'Drago the Clanless.' He is a hero and Lord Mordecai is the villain.”
“I understand, now. This is why you called him a good guy when you arrived here.” I nodded. “So, in your world, this is all make believe?” I nodded again. “How shocked were you when you learned otherwise?”
“When Lord Mordecai showed up in my bedroom? Terrified would be a more accurate way to describe my feelings. But, afterwards, I was too excited to be here to feel anything else. Of course, I was a bit upset when the Crimson Walker appeared. They aren't in the game.”
“Upset?” Angriz laughed. “You tore through the doors of the throne room, eyes the size of coppers, and face white. I thought you were going to soil yourself!”
“Makes sense,” I said. “I almost did!”
We both laughed and this drained some of the left-over tension from our battle. We fell silent; lost in our own thoughts for a while. I tried to figure out what a Walker of Worlds was, and what I was supposed to do as one. We checked on Keeper Dearbhaile every so often to be sure she was comfortable and she didn’t get any worse. After two hours, I turned to Angriz with a question which had been floating in the back of my mind.
“What is Vashara?”
He grinned. “As I learned the tale from my father and clerics of Darastrix, the Father of Dragons, Vashara is Paradise for our kind. Darastrix created another world, similar to this one, but perfect, for our afterlife. Verdant forests, soaring mountains, barren deserts and steaming jungles, in short, every type of place members of dragonkind prefers to lair are within. All is unspoiled by anything or anyone. Every dragon gets their own territory
, plenty of food, even for the most gluttonous of us, and endless treasure for their hoards with peace and love everlasting. Even better, from my perspective, you are reunited with all of your loved ones.”
I didn't plan on pointing out to him from the way he described Vashara, he would never be reunited with his human mother, or even if he'd be allowed in as a half-dragon. ‘The place sounds like something for pure dragons. How cruel not to spell this out if true.’
Instead, I said, “Sounds wonderful.”
“Is there anything similar in your world, Carter?”
“Magic doesn't exist in my world,” I reminded him. A niggling feeling tickled my mind for a bit before coming forth. “Angriz, how much time would you say passed since the attack?”
“At least several hours. Why?”
“The sun hasn't moved! It still seems like an hour after sunrise!”
“An illusion because we are under the effects of Stop-Time.”
“What?” I said, showing my brilliance.
“A spell,” Angriz said. “Magic is not my forte; you will need to wait for Keeper Dearbhaile to awaken to learn more. I guess she cast the incantation sometime before she lost consciousness.”
“I did wit' Carter's assistance,” she said as she struggled to sit up, startling me.
I picked myself up from where I had fallen off the log and hurried to her side. I helped her rise. Once upright and leaning on a log Angriz had dragged over for her, she summoned her pack with a wave of her hand and pulled out an emerald green robe, trimmed in white. With our aid, she dressed and explained how her spell worked.
“With a Stop-Time spell, you think time stopped, hence the name,” she said. “In actuality, the name be misleadin’. The way the magic works is nae by stoppin’ time, but by creatin' a bubble within a circle of special gems. Within this bubble, everythin’ be increased in speed to the point everythin' outside the bubble seems tae be locked in place. For us, a month will go by. For the rest of the world, only eight hours will pass.”