Brint helped her to her feet, despite her protests. She convinced him to let her go and then looked down at the throbbing wound. A trickle of blood ran to her elbow as she held her hand before her, and she saw that a flap of skin was hanging raggedly and grotesquely, like the hem of a skirt torn loose by brambles in a berry patch. Her head spun, and she saw flashes of color before her eyes. She was aware of Brint reaching for her, but there was a loud sound in her ears, a kind of pounding and swishing, like the sound the sea makes as it breaks against the shore. She reeled and reached out to steady herself. Her hand landed on the gigantic trunk of the Great Tree, and as her much abused palm made contact with the rough bark, there was a blinding flash of pain, and the world went black.
***
Tabitha felt more annoyed than worried. At first, she thought Holly had stumbled on purpose to get Logan’s attention, and she was surprised at the strong feeling of anger that washed over her, but then she saw the blood, and her irritation evaporated. She hurried to Holly along with the rest and tried to see what she could do to help. Holly laughed it off as she tried to make light of it, but Tabby could see the cut would need attention. She knew almost immediately that Holly was going to faint. The bemused expression, the sudden pallor of her skin, and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she was falling toward the tree, hands outstretched.
Tabitha heard the screams from some nearby fairies, and she had time to think to herself that they were overreacting. She just fainted, for Cyrus’s sake, it wasn’t as though she were dying. The cut, though bad enough, was in no way life threatening, but then the rumbling started.
It sounded like distant thunder at first, but built quickly. The ground pitched beneath their feet. The sky had been a pretty, twilight blue, but now it seemed to darken to black in the space of a heartbeat. And then it was raining large, dark pieces of something all around them. Tabby snatched one of the pieces of debris from the air as it fell, horrified to discover it was a leaf form the Great Tree, coal black, and dead. The rumbling intensified, and the tree let out a moan that sounded much too human. There was a sharp report as the crack in the tree widened, splitting it in two. For a moment, it appeared to be two trees growing side by side, but then the ground heaved and pitched, and half of the tree began to fall in slow motion. The earth still gripped its roots, as if trying desperately to hold it upright as it leaned forward in its death throes, but as it continued to fall, it gathered momentum. There were more screams, but Tabitha barely had time to see where they were coming from.
Tabby saw that Brint had already scooped Holly into his arms. She was distantly aware of him calling her name, but his voice had a dream-like quality, and she couldn’t make her mind work. All she could do was to stand there and watch the tree fall only inches from her. There was a pulling sensation, and she was rising into the air. Faster and faster she rose. She saw a blur of red, but it was blotted out by the bulk of the tree, and she could see it no more. The sounds of screams grew dim, farther away, and she looked down to see the distant glimmer of lights. She realized she was in Logan’s arms as he whisked her to safety. It was disconcerting that she hadn’t been aware of Logan until that very moment, but she really hadn’t been. With everything that was going on, it simply didn’t seem to matter where, or how, or why. Now, however, her thoughts were clearing.
“Take me back.” Her voice was weak and barely audible over the sound of rushing air. “Take me back,” she said again but with more force.
He stopped moving away from the scene of chaos, and they simply hovered in place where they were. She could feel him shaking, presumably from having to haul her for so long; it must have been a tremendous strain on his abilities.
“Don’t drop me,” she whispered, eyeing the ground far below.
“Drop you? I am most certainly not going to drop you.”
“Your arms are shaking. You must be getting tired, and…and it’s an awful long way down.”
He seemed to consider her words before speaking. “My arms are not shaking because of any undo strain. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Please, please take me back. I have to find Brint and Holly, and I think I saw Brin as the tree fell.”
“I do not think we should go back there just now. I will take you to Grandmother’s. Darach Croi had Holly when we made our escape, and he will take her home, or to Aesri’s.”
“I don’t understand,” she said. Why can’t we go back? There were people hurt. I can help.”
“They will not want your help. Did you not see what happened?”
It came back to her in flashes. Holly’s bloody hand, her fall, supporting herself on the Great Tree, her faint, and then—”
“You can’t mean they'll say it was her fault! Logan, the tree has been dying for a long time!”
“Yes, it has, and the instant—and I mean the very instant—the impure fairy touched it is when the Great Tree was finally struck low once and for all? I do not think it would be wise to push them any further, Tabitha, they need some time.”
The ground was coming closer. It would only be a few more seconds before she felt the comforting earth once more beneath her feet.
***
Meeshe’s home was unlit, except for the warm glow from the wooden walls of the main room.
Meeshe tore the door open. “Thank Rah you are safe. Logan, bring her in and shut the door.”
“Grandmother, I should return to the Great Tree and see what aid I can offer.”
“No, Logan, you will stay here as well. No one leaves until or unless Aesri says so.”
Tabitha stepped inside and saw her brother sitting on the floor beside Holly’s chair. Blood was still dripping lazily from her wound, landing on the stone floor collecting to form a small crimson pool. Holly was unconscious, but she appeared to be breathing easily. Tabitha suspected she wouldn’t remain out for much longer.
“Tabitha, help me with Holly,” Meeshe said in a commanding tone, and Tabitha hurried to the cabinets to get down the supplies they would need.
No one spoke. The house was eerily quiet with only the scrape of the mortar and pestle to fill the silence. Once Holly’s wound had been cleaned, dosed with antiseptic, and lathered in a healing cream, Meeshe wrapped the wound gently with a gauzy bandage and started to clean up.
“What happened,” Holly asked, even before her eyes were completely open. Brint was already jumping to his feet in case she should need anything, but he didn’t know how to begin to answer her question.
It was Meeshe who took care of it with the same quiet efficiency with which she had seen to Holly’s hand. Once told, the story of what had happened seemed to weigh on them all the more heavily.
The night wore on, but no one even suggested that they retire to their rooms. The air was still, as Meeshe had firmly closed all the windows and doors. Tabitha felt a trickle of perspiration as it slid between her shoulder blades.
The knock at the door made Holly yelp in surprise. For a moment, no one moved, but then Meeshe went to the door and pressed her ear to the wood.
“It is Aesri. Let me in. Quickly.”
Brint drew his sword, and Logan gently moved his grandmother aside so that he could open the door himself.
Aesri swept inside, pushed the hood of her cloak back, and deposited a large leather pack at her feet.
“How bad is it, Aesri?” Meeshe asked, pulling a chair forward.
Aesri ignored the proffered chair and looked around the room at the wide eyes surrounding her. “It is bad. Brin’du Drak’Tir saved the children, thank Rah, but he is badly wounded.”
“Brin!” Tabitha gasped and started for the door.
“No, Tabitha!” Aesri motioned to the door and a coating of ice covered the handle, preventing her from leaving.
“Let me out!” she screamed.
“Hush! You cannot go to him. Siusan will care for him. For now, you need to pack. Take only what you can carry. Brint, I packed what I could of your clothing, but I left ever
ything else. You must leave as soon as possible.”
Logan nodded to Brint; they were already in motion. Three packs were thrown onto the table and stuffed with the supplies they thought they would not be able to do without. Food and water were not needed—the land would support them.
Tabitha was digging through Meeshe’s stores and wrapping items that would not be easily found in the forest, tears sliding down her face all the while. She was frightened, angry, and frustrated all at the same time. The tears only made her more upset, and she swiped at them furiously, as if she could banish the feelings along with the offending moisture, but it only served to make things worse.
Brint came up behind her and grasped her hands. “Shh, Tabitha. Take a breath. Brin will be all right. We will get through this. He will be able to heal better if he doesn’t have to worry about us. We have to give people time to calm down.”
Tabby nodded, and he let her go. She wiped her face again, but this time with less vigor.
“What does the council say?” Meeshe asked.
“They are upset,” Aesri responded, skirting the question.
“We need to know,” Logan growled.
Aesri sighed deeply. “They are blaming Holly. They are saying it is her impure blood that has brought Rah’s disfavor on us all. I tried, I swear, I tried to make them see reason. I told them that this moment was inevitable, and it was Rah’s will and not His disfavor, but they would not listen. They have gone mad. Some are even saying the only way to appease Rah is to sacrifice Holly to him, as if that would mend what has been destroyed.”
Meeshe’s hand flew to her mouth. “Murder? Life is sacred. All life. How could things have spun so wildly out of control that they would even consider such a thing?”
“It is because of the trees. The people are terrified,” Aesri answered.
“What about the trees?” Logan asked.
Meeshe tipped her head, listened, went to the window, opened it an inch, and listened again. “In Rah’s name,” she whispered.
Logan took his grandmother’s shoulders and turned her to look at him. “What? What is it?”
“The trees…they are silent. They no longer speak.”
Aesri turned to face Logan and Brint. “You must protect the girls. Both of them. It is…crucial that they not be harmed. Do you hear me?”
“We're not helpless,” Tabitha snapped, though she wasn’t really angry with Aesri.
“I know, child. I do not mean to imply that you are, but if I am right, you and Holly may be our only hope.”
“What does that even mean, Aunt Aesri? Enough with your constant mystery. Speak plainly for once in your life!” Tabitha stared the woman down, unwilling to budge one inch.
Aesri drew back as if slapped. “I cannot answer what I do not know. All I can tell you is that Brin’du Drak’Tir and I believe that it all goes back to Minxa. Well, before her, really, back to Cifera and Auriel and their banishment from Etrafa. Minxa was our first chance for salvation, but that chance failed. Now, there may be another chance, but I do not have all the pieces of that puzzle. I wanted to wait until I was sure, and now we are out of time. Minxa’s journals speak of a prophecy, but we never found it. Why we were able to find her writings with such ease, but the prophecy itself remains lost to us, we do not know. Perhaps she knew such a thing would be dangerous. Perhaps it was hidden away by someone or something else, kept safe until the time was right. I have no reason to say this, only a feeling, but I believe it is here on Etrafa somewhere. You must find it.”
“But, Aesri!” Logan said. “Where are we even to start? Etrafa is huge. We could spend a dozen lifetimes looking and never come anywhere near it.”
“I know, Logan. I know I am asking the impossible, but our hope rests with Rah. If it is His will, He will guide your steps.”
“Forgive me if I do not share your optimism,” Logan said. He shouldered his pack and handed Tabitha a much lighter one.
Holly reached for her pack. “No,” Brint said. “I have it. Give your hand a little time to heal.”
Meeshe hugged Logan, her arms shaking with emotion.
“Grandmother, come with us. I worry for you. People are not thinking clearly.”
“No, my place is here, with Aesri. I will be all right.”
Logan frowned, but kissed her on the forehead. “See to it that you keep yourself safe. There is no shame in running if running is what is called for.”
Meeshe smiled at him through misty eyes. “Oh, you know me, I will always do exactly as I please, and woe to anyone who would dare to stand in my way. Besides, I still have friends nearby if I need them.”
With so much more to be said, but no time to say it, they opened the door, glanced left and right, and flew like shadows into the night, allowing the forest to swallow them up.
Chapter 12
“Dear, sweet, Brin,” Siusan’s tears traced lines through the grime of her face, leaving ghostly trails on her skin. The midday sun glared down upon her as the Great Tree was no longer there to shield the area with its strong and steady branches. Instead, it lay in ruin around her. There was no way to move Brin. Even with a hundred Etrafarians trying to lift him simultaneously, he was too large to be moved. They had settled for clearing the debris away as best they could. Siusan looked up at the light, without bothering to try to protect her eyes. There was a searing pain, but it paled in comparison to the ache in her heart, and she dismissed it as unimportant. They were going to have to erect some kind of shelter. Brin could not be left out like this. Even his skin would burn eventually, and there might be rain, besides.
The dragon moaned and shifted his weight beside her, but he did not wake. She stroked his face and crooned nonsense words to him until he settled.
When the Great Tree had started its fall, Brin and Siusan had been engaged in pleasant conversation, nothing of any importance, and certainly nothing serious. It was a day for happiness. She'd teased him about the amount of food he'd consumed at the festival, telling him he was getting a little thick around the middle. He'd patiently explained that it was all muscle, and she would do well to take a page from his book, as she was practically wasting away before his very eyes.
It was the screaming that had drawn their attention.
The screaming.
Siusan shuddered at the memory. She thought that if she lived another five hundred years, she would never get that sound out of her head.
She had not even time to say word one, and Brin was already in motion, his magnificent wings lifting him from the ground and speeding him forward to protect the children on the landing which was falling as the tree was falling. Though it wasn’t so very far to the ground, the danger lay in the branches and trunk that would crush the children under their immense weight. She saw him spread his wings just in time as he braced himself for the blow he could do nothing to stop, and then there was nothing but a twisted pile of debris and more screams. People rushed to help those who had been trapped. Slowly, too slowly, the limbs of the tree were removed, and the first child was pulled from the confusion. It took hours, but somehow, miraculously, all of them had survived. There were cuts, broken bones, and one head wound that was rather worrisome, but other than that…
And then there was Brin. There was so much blood, and no less concerning, deep purple bruises down one side where the blood, unable to find an outlet, had pooled beneath his skin. His stomach was swollen and rigid. Siusan guessed his ribs must have been broken and had probably punctured some of his internal organs.
Healers came to see what could be done for him, but they only shook their heads sadly and left.
Idiots. They could have at least tried to do something. Anything.
“Siusan?”
“Hello, Meeshe,” she answered, but she continued to stroke Brin's face without looking up. “Have you come to shake your head, too?”
“I am sorry. I do not understand.”
“Never mind,” Siusan said with a sigh. “Is there something you need?”
“Actually, I came to see if I could help. I should have come sooner, but I was hesitant to intrude. I am not especially welcome company to most people right now, and I did not want my presence to deter the other healers from approaching.”
Siusan snorted. “The other healers have been and gone. There is nothing that can be done, or so they say. Only time will tell.”
“They are probably right about time, but there is always something that can be done. Whether or not that something proves to be helpful is another matter entirely.”
Siusan looked up for the first time. “You think you can help him?”
“I did not say that, but I would like to look.”
Siusan stood, and the two women took a detailed inventory of the many injuries before them. Every once in a while, Siusan would point something out to Meeshe, explaining a spot that seemed better or worse than it had before, as well as things she'd not noticed previously.
Meeshe shook her head and Siusan almost screamed in frustration, but then Meeshe said, “I do not know dragon physiology. I imagine it is something not many do. What I do know is how to treat many hurts and illnesses. It may be that the dragon will recover on his own, and it may be that nothing we do will save him, but I think we need to address the bleeding in his abdomen. If nothing else, it might ease his suffering, if I relieve the pressure building there.”
“Tell me what to do.”
Meeshe unrolled a wide band of cloth, and Siusan saw tools cradled within the folds of the fabric. Among them were several wicked looking blades, superbly crafted. They were so fine, she thought one could almost be cut simply by looking at them for too long.
“I am going to cut into him here,” she said, pointing to a spot on Brin’s stomach where the scales had already been torn away. “It is not exactly where I want to be, but I will not be able to penetrate his hide where the scales are still intact, even with these blades. Once inside, I may be able to locate the source of the bleeding. If I can, you will need to pull the incision as wide as possible, so I will have room to work. Can you do it?”
Prophecy (The Destiny Series Book 4) Page 10