“I’m hurt,” Persephone informed Moya.
“I know—I know. I’m…I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I was told…someone said you wanted me downstairs. I didn’t even know you’d gone to bed.”
“I’m hurt, Moya. Real bad, I think.” Persephone’s head was bobbing up as her body jerked.
“You’re gonna—” Moya swallowed. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be all right, okay? We’re gonna take care of you.”
“You’re crying,” the keenig told her.
“Am I?” Moya asked. “I’m sorry.”
“Moya…” Persephone said. “I don’t think I’m going to—”
“Shut up!” Moya yelled at her so loudly and violently that it startled everyone in the room—everyone except Persephone. “Yes, you are, dammit! You’re going to be fine! You hear me?”
Moya hugged the keenig’s head to her neck and kissed her hair. “Don’t even think that way. Don’t you even—you’re strong, dammit. You crossed the sea, you led us to victory against Balgargarath, you killed a bear with a pissant little shield! You can beat this!”
“I’m bleeding.”
“I don’t care!”
More guards entered the room, both Fhrey and human. Each wore solemn masks of worry.
Tesh moved toward the window to get out of their way. Standing in front of it, he put his own head to the opening that was too narrow to allow it to pass. He looked down. It was quite a fall.
But what if it hadn’t fallen? What if it wasn’t dead? Was it on its way back to Meryl’s house?
From outside, he heard a loud ringing chime. Tesh had never heard that before. Must be an alarm. News of the attack must have spread.
A Fhrey he’d never seen before entered the bedroom. He actually looked old, with a gray receding hairline and a few wrinkles. How old does a Fhrey have to be to look like that?
He barked an order in Fhrey, then switched to Rhunic. “Get her up on the bed.” He had a bag with him that he placed beside her. “So, what do we have here? Severe lacerations, and, oh—”
“What?” Moya asked.
The healer dug into his bag. “I need water, and I need that gown off, right now.”
“Dylon, get water,” Moya told one of the Fhrey as she began to untie the keenig’s nightgown. Then she saw Tesh standing next to the window. “Tesh, out! The rest of you, too. Stand guard outside; we don’t need spectators.”
Tesh left the room.
Outside, the corridor was crowded with more people. Most of the faces he didn’t know.
What if it isn’t dead? And if it isn’t, if it’s starving, would it really just leave? We found a shawl…and a cloak.
Tesh shot up the stairs, taking the steps three at a time until he landed on the top floor where Nyphron’s personal quarters were. Tekchin had pointed it out once, but Tesh had never been inside. He didn’t wait, didn’t pause or knock. Tesh pulled the latch and walked inside. The Galantian leader wasn’t there. The room had no bed, just tables, chairs, a fireplace, and a rack of weapons. Nyphron had a lot of weapons. Also hanging on the walls were shields, swords, spears, and helms. Such wealth was impossible for a Dureyan to imagine, and Nyphron used them as decorations! There were two more doors, so the bed must be in one of the other rooms.
“What are you doing in here?” Nyphron asked.
Tesh whirled to see his lordship come in from the hallway. Dressed only in a robe and sandals, he appeared more irritated than surprised. He also looked in a hurry. “Front gate send you? How many are there?”
“Just the one, I think.”
“One?” Nyphron looked at Tesh like he was insane. “What do you mean one? They don’t ring the bell for one.”
“The bell? They don’t?”
Nyphron pushed past him and started to enter the room on the right. Then Nyphron stopped and looked back at Tesh. “What’s their position?”
“Their—position?” Tesh asked, baffled.
Nyphron stared at him incredulously. “Why are you up here if you don’t know anything?”
The leader of the Galantians’ eyes shifted to Tesh’s swords.
Behind Nyphron, the interior of the room was dark, and the candles from the sitting room cast a sliver of light, just enough to reveal the corner of a bed. Tesh saw movement. He drew both swords and charged.
“What are—” Nyphron dodged to one side with the usual Fhrey speed.
Tesh ran through, kicking the door wide open.
The raow was there, caught in the lamplight. The thing hissed and lashed out with both claws. The raow was faster than Sebek and no longer trapped.
“Out of my way,” it hissed. “Need the one that smells of thistles and lies.”
The raow raked at Tesh again.
He got his blades up to save a slashing, but the force threw him against the wall.
It lunged at Nyphron. The leader of the Galantians, clad in his bathrobe and sandals, was caught off-balance. Tesh sympathized. No one over the age of seven expects a raow in their bedroom.