Falling Ashes

‘I reckon I can protect yeh,’ Dagon said. ‘Now get ready, I’m going ter pick yeh up.’


Dagon put one arm under my legs and the other behind my back. He bent his knees and grunted loudly, hoisting me up from the ground. I cried in agony at the sudden movement.

‘Can yeh put weight on it?’ Dagon asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘But I’ll try.’

Dagon held me steady as I placed my damaged leg on the ground. As soon as my foot touched the pebbled shore, everything went black.

~

It was extremely hard to open my eyes; it felt as though they were glued shut. Prying them open, it took several minutes to adjust to the brightness. I found myself in a light blue room with bright white trim. A gentle breeze was wafting through the open window, and the sound of a calm sea reached my ears. Someone was dabbing my forehead with a wet cloth. I tried to lift my arm to push the cloth away, but my arms felt like lead so I groaned instead.

‘It’s all right,’ a gruff voice said. ‘Yer safe now.’

I squinted up at the man who was dabbing my forehead. It was Merl, the inn-keeper.

‘What are you doing?’ I mumbled.

‘Yeh had a fever,’ he said, returning the wet cloth to my forehead. ‘Yer burnin’ up.’

I pushed the damp towel away. ‘No, I don’t have a fever,’ I said. ‘I’m a Fire-Mage.’

Merl removed the cloth and looked down at it. ‘I wondered why it was smokin’.’

I sat up groggily, wincing in pain. ‘Ugh.’

‘Don’t get up,’ said Merl.

‘How did I get here?’ I asked. ‘How long have I been out?’

‘A couple of hours,’ Merl replied. ‘Dagon was awful worried about yeh.’

I rubbed the congealed sleep from my eyes and threw back the blanket that covered me. My thigh was heavily bandaged, a dark red splotch seeping through the fabric.

‘Is it bad?’ I asked.

‘I’ve seen worse,’ said Merl, throwing the wet cloth into a bowl of water on the bedside table. ‘But yeh won’t do any walkin’ fer a few days, let alone runnin’.’

I blanched. ‘But … but I can’t stay. That hunter knows I’m here-’

‘And how do yeh plan to travel?’ Merl asked.

I bit my tongue. Hawthorne would fly me, of course, but Merl wasn’t to know that.

‘I’ll buy a horse,’ I lied.

Merl rolled his eyes. ‘Just rest, all right?’

‘Fine,’ I lied again. ‘I’ll rest.’

‘Atta girl,’ said Merl, standing up and hobbling towards the door. ‘I’ll check on yeh in the morning’.’

‘Night, Merl, and thank you. Please tell Dagon I said thanks as well.’

‘Tell him yerself tomorrow mornin’.’

~

I waited until night had fallen and no footsteps could be heard in the halls of the lodge. Checking the clock on the mantelpiece, I saw that midnight had just ticked past. It was extremely difficult to stand. As soon as I did, more blood oozed through the bandage. It took all of my strength not to cry out in pain.

Hobbling to the window, I opened it silently and poked my head out. The cool sea breeze was very refreshing. I licked my lips and let out a long, high whistle, hoping it would carry on the wind. I wondered if Hawthorne was worried about me. I hadn’t seen him in since this morning.

I was immensely relieved to hear the familiar sound of trotting along grass. Within minutes, Hawthorne was looking up at me from the ground below.

‘Hey,’ I whispered down to him. Hawthorne’s ears pricked up, and his tail wagged.

I looked down at my injured leg and contemplated on how to make my escape. The thought of putting any weight on it was unbearable. Jumping out of this window was simply out of the question.

‘I need your help,’ I whispered. ‘I can’t walk.’

I hopped away from the window so Hawthorne could make an entrance. He jumped silently into the room as if he were a mouse.

Slinking forward, Hawthorne inspected my thigh, sniffing the sodden bandage. He looked at me with wide eyes.

‘I’m all right,’ I lied, putting on a brave face. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks. Merl said I’d be able to walk on it within a couple of days.’

Hawthorne let out a long, low groan of distress.

I put my finger to my lips. ‘Shh, it’s okay. Let’s get out of here, all right?’

I grabbed my rucksack, which was still damp, and dragged myself back to Hawthorne. Something shiny caught my eye. The dagger that had been embedded in my thigh was lying on the bedside table. Grabbing it, I stuffed it into my rucksack before collapsing on top of Hawthorne’s back.

Panting, I threw my injured leg over his back, biting down on my bag as pain shot through me.

‘Okay,’ I said, out of breath. ‘Let’s go.’

Hawthorne leapt out of the window, and at once I thought I was going to slip from his back. I couldn’t grip him with my knees, so I gripped his fur. The motion pained me, and I cried out as we ascended, the blackness threatening to swallow me once more.