I raised it as ordered but it was a far harder task than it should have been. Obviously now that adrenaline was no longer coursing through my body, reaction was setting in.
Again, he touched me, and again it felt like fire. He screwed his nose up and met my gaze. “They both need immediate attention, but I can’t do anything in this pit. If I give you a painkiller, do you think you can stand being hauled out?”
“Yes.” No matter how much pain it caused, it would never be as bad as what the Adlin would have put us through had they caught us alive.
“Good.”
He opened the medikit, which turned out to be extremely basic, containing little more than vials of painkillers and a couple of needle-free injectors. But then, he was a healer, and they tended to work alongside regular medicine and doctors, using a mix of psychic power and magic to heal wounds. They also tended to spend a lot of their time on the battlefield, patching up bodies to ensure survival until proper medical attention could be given.
He injected both my arm and my leg, then closed the kit back up and rose. “Okay,” he said, offering me his hand. “Take it easy getting up. You’ve lost a lot of blood and could be very lightheaded.”
There was no “could be” about it. I gripped his hand, took a deep, steadying breath, then nodded. He carefully pulled me upright, but it didn’t really matter. My head still spun, my knees buckled, and my stomach rose rather alarmingly. He gripped my elbow to steady me, and then shifted his grip to my waist, holding me upright in much the same manner as I’d held Saska up earlier.
“One coming up,” he said as we shuffled forward.
It was an effort that had sweat running down my spine and forehead. Damn, I felt weak.
Once we’d made it into the open air, hands reached down and hauled me up. The fierceness of the sunshine had my eyes watering but it didn’t stop me from seeing the mutilated remains of the Adlin. There weren’t just five or six bodies scattered about, but over a dozen of them. It was a far greater number than what had initially attacked us and it made me wonder why. Adlin might be fierce hunters, but it was unusual for a hunting pack to allow others in on the action once the chase had begun.
The two men who’d hauled me upright shifted their grip and then carried me across to one of three heavily armored, tanklike troop movers. These things weren’t designed for comfort, and were cramped and basic inside. This one had two medibeds situated at the rear of the vehicle. The soldiers carefully placed me the bottom bunk then gave me a nod and retreated. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore not only the sick weakness washing through my limbs but the impulse to punch the air in victory and shout obscenities at the ghosts of the Adlin who’d been slaughtered in this place. Both urges were undoubtedly a reaction to surviving the unsurvivable, but it wasn’t like we were out of the woods yet. The Adlin had showed an amazing tenacity, and part of me couldn’t help but think our problems weren’t over yet.
Footsteps echoed as someone entered the mover, and I reluctantly opened my eyes. The man who had entered was tall, with the brown skin and hair that was commonly found amongst those who were earth witches, and eyes that were a startling green.
“Trey Stone, Blacklake Prime.” He stopped near the bunk and crossed his arms. “That’s one hell of a chase you led the Adlin on, March.”
“It was either run or die, and I really wasn’t in the mood for the latter today.”
“Obviously.” His gaze scanned my face but showed little reaction to the very evident stain on my cheek. Which was odd, because it was the first thing most people commented on when they initially met me. “Was there any indication of how Saska Rossi came to be naked and unescorted in the middle of nowhere?”
“No indication at all, Commander.”
But the fact that she was a Rossi really did explain why everyone had gone to such lengths to rescue us. The Rossis were a very powerful family of air witches, and one of the six ruling houses in Winterborne.
Stone was another.
And while it wasn’t surprising to find an earth witch stationed at Blacklake—all outposts had both air and earth witches on their rosters—it was certainly unusual for the placement to go to someone from a ruling house. It was even rarer for that person to become prime.
“And how did you get to be here, so far away from your scooter?” he asked.
I gave him an edited version of events and he frowned. But before he could question me further, the two men who’d carried me reappeared with Saska. Stone stepped back to let them pass, then glanced at me again. “We’re returning to Blacklake. I’ll inform your captain we’ve found you alive and relatively intact.”
“Thanks.”
He headed out of the carrier, moving with a grace and lightness that was rare in those of earth. Or maybe it simply rare in those born into the lower houses, or in those who usually held duty at the five border encampments.
Mace climbed into the cabin, followed by half a dozen other men. He curtained off the rear of the carrier then strapped Saska in before repeating the process on me.
As the roar of the engine coming to life filled the air and the whole carrier began to rattle, he said, “I’m afraid your wounds aren’t going to wait until we get back to Blacklake.”
I shrugged. “That’s okay. I have no problems with healers.”
“Good to hear, although it wouldn’t matter if you did, because I’m all you’ve got. And you won’t be awake to protest, anyway.”
“I’d rather not—”
“Every Nightwatch I’ve ever treated has said that.” He placed a hand on my forehead. Heat leapt from his skin to mine, and an odd sort of peace began to descend. “The expectation of toughness must be off the scale amongst your lot.”
“It’s not.” The words came out slightly slurred as the peacefulness began to extend across my body. “I just hate…”
…being incapacitated when others are facing danger in my stead. But the words never made it to my lips. The peacefulness claimed me and I knew no more.
It was the warm wash of water that woke me. For several seconds I didn’t move; I simply enjoyed the sensation as I gathered my senses and tried to figure out where I was.
And that obviously wasn’t in the troop carrier. This place was quiet and filled with the fresh scents of herbs and femininity rather than machine oil and men.
The gentle breeze that stirred past my skin spoke of night and stars, and told me nine hours had passed since our rescue. There was no pain emanating from either my arm or my leg, although a quick twitch of my left hand revealed a still unresponsive little finger. But that might have been because there was something tight wrapped around it.
I opened my eyes. A woman with gray hair and a lined face met my gaze and smiled. “You’re not supposed to be awake yet.”
“I do a lot of things I’m not supposed to do.”
A quick look around revealed I was in a hospital ward. The whitewashed walls were made of stone and lined with small windows that probably wouldn’t allow much daylight in, but also wouldn’t let anyone climb in or out. While I was currently the only occupant, there were at least a dozen beds in the room, each one possessing a silent array of medical machines both over and beside it.
“So I hear.” The woman dunked the cloth into a tub of water and continued to wash me down. It was, I thought with a slight frown, a rather pleasurable experience. Which was weird given the situation and the lack of attraction. “Like you and the witch surviving against impossible odds.”
“That was good luck and her abilities more than anything I might have done.” I raised my hand and saw that it was still in a partial splint. “What’s happened to my finger?”
“It was smashed and severed. They’ve managed to reattach the flesh, but the bone was almost beyond repair. They’ve inserted metal knuckles and joints and are hoping the grafts will take.”
The skin at the tip of my finger was pink, which at least indicated the blood vessels were working as they should.