Drogoya: Book 3 Circles of Light series (48 page)

‘Inside quickly,’ she
ordered softly as the door swung open.

Daro closed and bolted
the door again behind them. They stood just inside the chamber, a
lamp standing on a small table the only illumination.

The Dragon Lord was
crouched in a corner to the left of the empty fireplace, his arms
locked round his knees, hands clutching his shoulders. He raised
his head and they saw the tears pouring down the scaled cheeks. His
mouth opened and Motass tensed, expecting to be ordered from the
room but all that emerged was a low moan of pain.

Jal could think only of
the kindness this young Lord had shown him in his own time of agony
and moved quickly to squat beside him, his left hand covering one
of Mim’s. Chakar too bent towards Mim but did not touch
him.

‘Babach told me Mim. He
was torn by his need to return to Drogoya and with your impending
need of his support. Let us help you now.’ She reached for Mim’s
other hand, tugging gently to loose its grip on his shoulder.
‘Come. It will be better I promise, but you cannot bear this
alone.’

She nodded at Jal and
between them they coaxed Mim slowly to his feet. Daro had pulled
the top covers off the narrow pallet and removed the
pillows.

‘Motass we will need a
fire and hot water,’ Chakar requested as she and Jal helped the
unsteady figure across the room.

Jal’s eyes filled with
tears as Daro eased the sleeveless jerkin from Mim’s upper body
with such tender care. Then his breath caught when Daro and Chakar
helped Mim to lie face down upon the pallet. Chakar bit her lip,
studying Mim’s back while the fire crackled to life behind them.
Jal stepped away, then felt his brother at his side, heard the hiss
of his indrawn breath.

Blood streaked down
each side of Mim’s spine from parallel strips bare of scales. The
strips were swollen hard nearest the top of his spine, slightly
less so where the lines ran below the level of his shoulder blades.
Wordlessly Motass fetched Chakar’s bag from where she’d left it at
the door and put it beside her. She hooked a stool closer with her
foot, sat and began sorting through the pouches of
herbs.

Mim’s body spasmed and
fresh blood sprang from the top of the swollen ridges. His hands
clenched and Daro leaned over, forcing Mim’s hand open and putting
a pillow between the bare palm and the taloned fingers. He moved
round the pallet to attend to the other hand.

‘Dear stars above,
what’s wrong with the lad? Is this the affliction we’ve heard tell
of?’ Motass whispered hoarsely.

Daro smiled at him, his
silver hazel eyes full of compassion. ‘Oh no, not the affliction.
These are wing buds Motass – the Dragon Lord’s wings are
emerging.’

Chakar made poultices,
muttering to herself while she combined different groups of herbs
and fungi to pack between thin gauze before laying them on Mim’s
back. The night progressed and Mim was ever more tormented with
pain, until finally Daro touched his forehead and Mim’s tense body
relaxed into unconsciousness.

‘Why couldn’t you have
done that sooner?’ growled Motass.

Daro spread his hands.
‘Neither Observer Chakar nor I have any idea how this
transformation is to be accomplished.’

‘That’s right,’ Chakar
agreed. ‘We are still not sure if it will help or hinder to have
him unaware. He may need to consciously assist his wings to emerge.
We just don’t know Motass.’

Motass nodded in
reluctant understanding. ‘But how long will this take do you think
Lady? It is nearly dawn and I see no difference in his poor
back.’

Chakar rose stiffly and
went to swing the kettle over the fire again.

‘Something else we have
no idea of.’ She glanced back at Daro. ‘You should check on Ashta –
maybe the Delver healers could help keep her calm.’

Daro smiled. ‘The Snow
Dragons are keeping her asleep for now, but I think we should talk
with some of the healers perhaps. And it is time Dessi was
informed. I will do so now.’

‘I’ll find us some
breakfast Lady. You need to keep your strength up to help young
Mim.’ Motass followed Daro from the chamber and Chakar smiled at
Jal’s expression.

‘I know Motass meant no
rudeness Jal. He is rightly concerned for this boy.’

Jal wedged a couple
more logs on the fire then blurted: ‘Why does that pendant not help
him then? He wears one. So do you. Yet still he suffers
so.’

Chakar sighed, rubbing
her eyes. ‘I don’t know Jal. Sometimes these pendants become warm
and they pulse as with a heart beat. That hasn’t happened
tonight.’

The door opened and
Daro came in with Dessi. The timid Kephi Rofu squirmed out of
Daro’s arm and leaped on Chakar’s knee. She put down her fresh made
mug of tea to hold him. Distress vibrated through his tiny frame.
His front feet kneaded against her arm then he leaped away to climb
the pallet on which Mim lay. Dessi stared at Mim’s still body then
moved across to Chakar.

‘I have been so deep in
my own studies and concerns that I had no idea anything was wrong
with Mim,’ she said.

Chakar patted her hand.
‘Only Babach knew I think.’ She frowned. ‘Perhaps Fenj did too, but
Babach told me only just before he and Elyssa left.’

She added some hot
water to a bowl of herbs and covered them with a plate to steep.
‘The poultices need renewing but I am having to reuse some of the
ingredients – I’ve run out of supplies.’

Chakar bent over Mim
and gently lifted the gauze wrapped poultice from one side of his
back. Bright blood welled instantly from the whole line of swollen
flesh. Dessi pressed her hand to her mouth and Rofu whimpered,
wiggling closer to lie along Mim’s side. Chakar glanced up as the
door opened again and Motass carried in a tray laden with
food.

‘The lad’s gone for
more medicines,’ he offered.

‘And I summoned Berri,’
Dessi added belatedly. ‘When Daro came and told me of this, I
called her. We cannot hide what’s happening Chakar.’

She was trying to
staunch the blood while she spoke and Chakar hurried to fetch the
new poultice.

‘It isn’t like this
with other winged creatures,’ she continued.

Chakar placed the
fresher dressing on Mim’s back when Dessi lifted away the blood
soaked cloth. They repeated the procedure on the other side of
Mim’s spine and stood looking down at him. Jal cleared his
throat.

‘I agree with my
brother that you should eat Observer.’

Chakar smiled at him
and joined the two men at the table.

‘I’m sure you’re right
Jal. There seems so little I can do – I can think of nothing at all
that would help him.’

They ate in silence for
a while, glancing often at the motionless body across the
room.

‘Will his um, wings be
like the Dragons’ Observer?’ Motass asked finally.

‘Another thing to which
I have no answer,’ Chakar replied. ‘I have studied birds for many
years but all of them hatch from their eggs with their wings
already formed outside their bodies.’ She shook her head. ‘I can
only hope Berri or another Delver healer may have at least some
ideas on this case.’

Chakar and Dessi had
changed the poultices again before Daro returned carrying a large
sack of herbs, and accompanied by Berri, the Wise One of the
Delvers in Nolli’s absence. Berri kissed both Dessi and Chakar and
looked hopefully at the teapot. Motass handed her a steaming mug
from which she sipped gratefully.

‘I spoke with two
Elders of the Snow Dragons on my way here,’ she said without
preamble. ‘They told me that there are instances of a hatchling
emerging with wings sealed against its body, but they had never
heard tell of wings still within the body.’ She looked from Chakar
to Dessi and back again. ‘They suggest that we – encourage – the
wings to free themselves. If necessary to open his
flesh.’

She looked at the four
appalled faces staring at her and tried to smile. ‘Daro suggested
we try to massage or manipulate Mim’s back before we resort to more
drastic methods.’

Chakar chewed her lip,
thinking furiously. ‘Motass, we will need much more water here.
Fetch another kettle too so we have plenty heating.’ She began
rolling her sleeves high up her arms as she got to her feet. ‘He’s
bleeding constantly, not heavily but enough,’ she explained to
Berri. ‘Any pressure is bound to increase it though. And Jal, we
will need many more cloths to soak up the blood.’

As the brothers went
quickly to do her bidding, Chakar lifted one of the poultices from
Mim’s back.

Berri paled. ‘Dear
stars!’

Daro placed his hand
briefly on Chakar’s shoulder and smiled into her eyes. ‘You can do
this Chakar,’ he told her softly. Then he moved out of her way,
knelt beside the pallet and put his hands either side of Mim’s
head.

Briefly Chakar clasped
the pendant hanging at her chest, took a deep breath and reached
out to Mim. Pressing lightly at first at the highest part of the
swollen ridge, Chakar slid her hands ever more firmly down towards
Mim’s narrow waist. Berri gasped. The skin split under the pressure
and a dark line could be seen under the now spurting blood. Dessi
grabbed a handful of cloths, passing some across to Berri. Rofu,
against Mim’s other side, watched in alarm, his whiskers quivering.
Motass put a bowl of hot water within reach of the three women then
moved the lamp closer to illuminate the ghastly scene more
clearly.

‘Motass, fetch pails of
ice for me,’ Chakar rapped. ‘We will need to pack this whole area
with ice for a time, once we get the wing free.’

Dessi moved closer to
Chakar, putting her tiny hands on top of the Observer’s who was
immediately aware of power surging from the Delver girl. Again and
again Chakar stroked her hands heavily down Mim’s back. Again and
again Berri swabbed away blood. The morning passed unnoticed as did
Bikram’s arrival in the small chamber. Without a word the Delver
gardener took a place beside Berri and mopped at the streaming
rivulets of blood.

‘Look!’ Chakar’s hands
stilled. ‘Swab that top section.’

Bikram was nearest and
did as Chakar bid. They all peered at the long slit, now gaping
open about three fingers wide.

‘I’m going to try to
bring it out.’

Dessi moved her hands
from Chakar’s, placing them instead in the blood to either side of
where Chakar indicated. The Observer’s fingers dug down and a
tremor ran through Mim’s body. Chakar clenched her jaw and probed
again. The watchers gasped as slowly a length of draggled matter
emerged from Mim’s back.

With the utmost care,
Chakar took hold of the lower end and pulled gently. A wet,
bloodied wing unfurled, as long as Mim was tall.

‘Fetch a chair or stool
to let it rest on. It will dry better outstretched.’ Daro spoke
softly as always. ‘It needs cleaning too.’

He smiled at Jal and
Motass who leaped into action. Chakar studied the exposed wing,
wiping her hands and moving to the other side of the
pallet.

‘We need to put ice
along that opening Berri, and herbs to speed closure. And his wings
will not be like the Dragons’ Motass – they are
feathered!’

Bikram and Berri
changed places with the Observer and Dessi, and Chakar began to
work on the other wing ridge. Chakar was briefly conscious of her
back aching from the hours she had spent bent awkwardly over Mim
but she had no sooner become aware of the discomfort than it
vanished. Her lips twitched. ‘Thank you Daro.’

The day was ending
again but the attention of all in Mim’s chamber was focused only on
the boy lying beneath Chakar’s hands. When she finally eased the
second wing free and extended it, there was a collective sigh of
relief throughout the room.

Dessi leaned her
shoulder against Chakar’s side. ‘We can do the rest. Go wash
yourself.’

Chakar opened her mouth
to protest and exhaustion crashed through her whole body. She
nodded. ‘I think I will, but I will be straight back,’ she
warned.

Wiping her hands, she
went round to where Motass and Jal had cleaned and dried Mim’s
right wing. She stared at it in astonished awe. Long golden
feathers fanned out across a supporting chair, a deep buttery gold
with their tips dipped in silver.

Imshish and Chornay
were in Mim’s chamber when Chakar returned. She felt refreshed by a
hot bath and clean clothes, the shadows under her eyes the only
sign that this was the second night since she’d slept. The room was
clean and comfortably warm, the harsh smell of blood banished by
the tang of herbs. Chakar went straight to examine her patient and
as she bent to lift a corner of the gauze dressing over Mim’s spine
she flinched at the sudden heat from the egg pendant she
wore.

She hurriedly pulled it
free of her shirt and realised it was pulsing as it had when she’d
worked on Kadi and assisted at Babach’s healing. Why should it
react now, when Mim was hopefully already healing rather than last
night when she so desperately needed extra help? She noted that the
bleeding had stopped, the swelling was hardly perceptible and also
that Daro had moved Mim’s pendant so that it rested at the back of
his neck where his head lay sideways on the pallet.