Chapter Ten

The Wounded

Rhydian ne’Tanuzet returned to Mistwatch with more questions than answers. He had expected a vague explanation at best, but to be told there was no record of anyone operating in the area at all was vexing. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised. This whole operation had been questionable from the start.

And, like the lucky bastard he was, he was left to pick up the pieces.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leaned forward as Tanuzet dipped into a controlled dive toward the mouth of the wyvernlairs. His back ached in protest, though he wasn’t sure whether it was his own pain, or Tanuzet’s. In their state, emotions, senses, even thoughts, tended to blend together. They may as well have been the same person. He imagined it was hers, though, given how his chest and shoulders throbbed. Hauling around a few Adai bodies was nothing compared to the dead weight of a whole wyvern in full harness.

She swept into the landing hall, alighting at the far end nearest the lift. As he climbed down from her back, Rhydian debated returning to their joint quarters to change into something more suitable before continuing on. His uniform was soiled and stained, his skin sticky in places and ways he’d rather not think about. In the end, though, he thought better of it. He’d only end up sullying a perfectly good uniform. He needed a bath, a hot meal, but he knew those would have to wait.

There was plenty left for him to see to before his night was through.

“Shall we?” He asked.

Tanuzet rumbled her assent and crawled into the lift.

With luck, Sorisanna will have good news, she said, her tone light and refreshingly optimistic.

He found it rather infectious, despite his own reservations.

She settled inside, tucking in her tail as he joined her, crest perked between her sweeping horns.

“After the day we’ve had, I’d certainly welcome it.” he admitted, struggling to temper his own expectations in the midst of their passive convergence.

He thought to visit the girl too. With both Talhavar dead, as well as their mysterious target, she was the only one who might shed any light upon the situation at hand. Provided she actually knew anything. At the very least, he intended to find out where she had come from in the first place and what she was doing out in the Wilds alone. In truth, she was a mystery, and a headache, all on her own.

With a quake, the lift eased to a halt. A wide, open hall flanked them on all sides, lit with warm, low burning braziers of amber everfire. Much like the rest of the stronghold, the infirmary had been hewn to accommodate wyverns as easily as Adai. While riders and other personnel were dwarfed by comparison, three or four wyverns could easily pass abreast through the various halls and archways, wings and all. Flight proved more difficult, but he had seen it done before. Usually by the males.

Unsurprisingly, the landing chamber was largely bare, aside from the handful of sages’ assistants passing between assigned tasks. Mistwatch was large enough to house up to three full flights comfortably, though was only ever staffed by one. Important as the outpost was, it was remote and for the most part, uneventful, so there was no need to house more Talhavar than necessary, especially with the wyverns spread so thin.

He spied the empty transport harness nearby, haphazardly undone beneath the specialized crane used to hoist unconscious or incapacitated wyverns from the main lift. Its intricate track ran along the ceiling and around the lift shaft, making it easily maneuverable depending on the relative position of the patient.

Down the main hall, a secondary track was inlaid in the floor, leading down a straight path into the wyvernbays. The long, low platform it housed had been drawn in, likely having borne Ephaxus inside. Tanuzet scented the air, crest and eyes alert. Then, she gave a pitched nicker. Her vocalization echoed throughout the chamber and was quickly answered by both Vaelor and Inet who were undoubtedly within the bays. Then, a weaker, sighing whistle sounded.

He’s alive! She breathed.

Rhydian’s heart swelled with Tanuzet’s, their collective relief bordering on nauseating. He had to throw a hand out against her wing to steady himself, trying in vain to extricate himself. She reached her head around to bump him with her snout, a silent apology passing behind her bright eyes.

“Go ahead,” he said, “I’ll catch up.”

He needed to regain his bearings.

His hand fell to his chest and he drew in several, steadying breaths. They needed to work on separating from one another, he decided, for he hadn’t forgotten what had happened in the heat of battle out in the Wilds. For now, he could forgive it, but he made a mental note to address it in the future. Come to think of it, the rest of his aerial flight could benefit from the same.

Once he’d mastered himself, he made his way across the main chamber and into the wyvernbay proper. Vaelor and Inet were resting within, laying on opposite sides of the main track as they were seen to. Cydan was leant against Inet’s chest with his arms crossed and legs outstretched, his bleary eyes finding Rhydian. He gave a tired dip of his chin and closed his eyes once more. At least he was getting some rest, Rhydian thought. Ayduin, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen. If he were to hazard a guess, though, she was likely checking in on their other patient across the level. She wasn’t one to leave her copper’s side longer than necessary, if she could help it.

Further in, Tanuzet peeked her head out from one of the private bays. The sight would have been comical, were it not for the nature of their visit. Rallying himself, Rhydian managed to coax a light jog from his miserably stiff legs, spurred on by her expectant gaze.

He found Ephaxus inside, groggy, but awake, at least in part. His ordinarily eerie, rose-gold eyes were droopy, the dilated pupils only able to focus for a few brief seconds at a time. A broken purr escaped him, reverberating through the floor beneath his arrow-shaped head. Tanuzet’s own dropped beside his, gently pressing her snout against his scaled cheek in comfort. In his current state, she wouldn’t dare anything more than a light touch.

He rested upon his belly, wings and hind legs arranged in loose, neutral positions at his sides while his spine was laid straight from his head, to the tip of his lengthy tail. His opalescent hide stood out in stark contrast to the surrounding stone, save for the cerise shading of his wing membranes and sailfins, though even they appeared more pale than usual. His scales were scuffed in places, though those of wyverns were notoriously durable. Aside from his spine, his wings and sailfins had suffered the most damage. There were tears in the flexible membranes, particularly along his right side, where he’d landed hardest. He was strong, his physical core nearing the peak of its fifth Ascension, but there was only so much it could endure when subject to the force of an impact like his.

Several of Sorisanna’s assistants were tending to his more minor wounds, the sage herself situated out of view somewhere along his back. Though he could not see her, Rhydian could sense her actively channeling her rysk. Tanuzet inclined her head as it drifted back toward him in silent invitation and he deftly stepped up onto one of the spikes lining her bottom jaw. He grasped a ledge along one of her main horns to steady himself and she craned her neck back to afford him a better vantage.

The site was stomach churning, to say the least.

Sorisanna sat a few feet up from Ephaxus’ hips, between his hind end and mid back. The large plate scales, along with the lesser ones between them, had been removed entirely to allow the sage unobstructed access to the bone and tissue within. Muscle was pulled back and away from his spine, undulating in great, open petals around the woman as she focused upon the vertebrae beneath. Threads of golden light ran along what Rhydian presumed were the nerves, the rysk itself flowing forth from Sorisanna’s splayed hands. Five spheres of condensed vital essence, each near the size of her head, hung suspended in the air around her, burning like small suns. They shared the same fierce glow of her eyes, the light bleeding out in fine wisps.

Rhydian shivered.

On a conceptual level, he knew what fleshweavers were capable of, but to see their work first hand was as unsettling as it was awe inspiring. To dismantle and so easily mold the flesh of another being was a talent he would never fully grasp. He could only imagine the amount of study that had gone into her craft, for healing paths were far different from others. Mending a spine took studied, surgical precision. One could not simply lay their hands upon the afflicted and heal them with half a thought. Bones had to be manually reassembled, veins reconnected and muscle reknit in precise order.

He knew better than to disturb her for the sake of his own curiosity. The full procedure would likely take hours yet, if the amount of supplemental essence Sorisanna had brought with her were any indication. She hadn't appeared to have tapped them yet either, which meant both she and Ephaxus were in for an exceptionally long night.

At least they'd made it back in time, Rhydian thought. He ran his free hand along Tanuzet’s orbital ridge, idly scratching the soft patch of scales behind her spiked brow in the way she always liked. Some of the tension eased from her face, her nostrils flaring with a soft, appreciative whistle.

“You should stay with him,” he said.

Are you certain?

“With Keishara gone, he'll need all the support he can get,” he said, then managed a light-hearted teased, “I can survive a night or two without you. I'll even bring you your favorite pillow.”

She purred deeply. You will?

“Of course. It's the least I can do,” he grinned, “just don't expect me to bring the entire horde.”

Perhaps . . . just one more? She queried, For Ephaxus?

“If you’re willing to share,” he nodded.

She dipped her head. Please.

“It may be a while, but I’ll return once I’ve finished up for the night. In the meantime, take care of yourself too, Tanuzet. He’ll be here when you return.”

He knew how particular she was about her scales and by this point, she was nearly covered in as much filth as he was.

I will visit the pools soon enough. She assured, then gave him an exaggerated sniff. You should as well. You stink of death.

He frowned, but he was inclined to agree.

As he made for the bay’s archway, he paused and turned back toward the prone wyvern. Ephaxus had never been his and yet, he almost seemed to sense his inner turmoil the way he did Tanuzet’s. Hesitantly, he placed his open hand upon his snout.

“Skies keep you,” he murmured and took his leave.

He came across Ayduin not long after, her pace brisk as she headed for the wyvernbay from across the infirmary hall. She perked up when she noticed him, then glanced around as if half expecting someone to ambush them. In his absence, she’d likely dealt with the brunt of everyone’s initial questioning. It was a wonder she hadn’t pulled her braid out by the roots.

“Is everything all right?” He asked.

“Fine,” she said, her tone clipped. “How did your conversation with command go?”

A muscle feathered along his jaw. “Not as well as I’d like.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

It was his turn to survey the hall, ensuring they were alone as he gestured for her to follow him back in the direction she’d come.

“They’re denying anyone was in the area,” he said quietly.

“What? That’s absurd!’ She whisper-hissed.

“My thoughts exactly,” he muttered.

Her lips twisted into a tight-lipped frown as she fell into step. “What now?”

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I was planning on questioning the girl first. Is she awake?”

She shook her head. “No. She’s been out since we left the Wilds.”

“Still?”

“Has a nasty fever too,” she said, “The sage gave her a medicinal pill to take the edge off, so we’ll see if it helps.”

Rhydian rubbed his temple. “That’s not exactly encouraging.”

“There’s more . . .”

“More?”

“She’s weak, Rhydian. And not only from the wound, either. Her Soul, it’s - Well, let’s just say I’ve met ten year olds with more developed cores.”

He blinked. “You mean to tell me she’s not made it past her first Ascension?”

“Not from what myself and the sage can tell.”

Today’s surprises never ceased.

“So we have a dead murderess who’s advanced who knows how far and a woman no more powerful than a child on our hands,” he said. “With no support from command. Wonderful.”

“What did you tell them?” She wondered.

“Only the bare minimum- that the dyads were dead.”

“And they had nothing to say?”

He shook his head. “I am to operate as normal until one of their investigators reaches out.”

Ayduin scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

He gave a humorless laugh. “I wish I could tell you otherwise. I feel like I’m blundering around in the dark.”

“We all are,” she said, “but at least we’re in this together.”

“Agreed. How did everyone else take the news?”

She shrugged a shoulder, leading him around the corridor. “About as well as you’d expect. Things have calmed down for now, but the flight’s expecting a brief in the morning.”

He’d suspected as much.

“Any questions about the girl?”

“None, really. Aside from Vesryn. He knows what happened to her was no training accident.”

“Hard to hide the truth from a sage, isn’t it?” He said.

“If we want him kept quiet, we’ll need to lock him down with an oath,” she said quietly, drawing him to a halt before one of the private rooms. “She’s in here. Hopefully, so is he.”

At this point, Rhydian had learned to keep such hopes in check. As it was, he’d likely have to strongarm the man into staying holding his tongue. Soul oaths were no small thing and he’d likely have to force one onto him. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but any damage control would have to be dealt with swiftly.

Not bothering to announce his presence with a knock, he opened the door and strode inside. The sage, a wizened man of middle years, gave a start at his entrance. He nearly dropped his notepad, his pen falling to skidder off across the floor. Whatever it was he’d been scribbling, he’d done in some haste.

“Sky’s grace, boy-,” he said, then caught himself and cleared his throat with what dignity he had left. “Firstrider. How can I be of service?”

Rhydian studied the leather bound parchment in the man’s arms, then looked to the lone figure in the bed.

Behind him, Ayduin shut the door with a distinct click.

“I came to check on our guest,” he said, allowing his rank to edge his tone, “How is she?”

Vesryn ran a hand through his dark, silver-streaked hair. “To be frank, I’m not sure.”

Rhydian cut him a glare. “Our sage isn’t sure?”

“You and I both know the story your secondrider told me was a lie. This was no training accident and she is no assistant. She isn’t even an Adai.”

Rhydian’s brow knit and when he said nothing, the sage waved him over to the bed.

“See for yourself.”

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen her already, but he humored the man while Ayduin remained beside the door. The sage had noticed her position too, but kept silent. Running wasn’t exactly an option for him and he knew it.

At first, all Rhydian saw was a girl. Her honey-blond curls had been tied off to one side, away from the wound, and splayed across her pillow. However, the closer he looked, the more he realized the sage was right.

She was small and fine-boned, the structure of her elfin face round where the Adai’s were sharp. He couldn’t quite explain how he hadn’t noticed it before. Her skin was pale, with pink, fleshy undertones that manifested in bright, uneven patches along her neck. At first, he thought her cheeks were mottled, but closer inspection revealed the skin was smooth, yet . . .speckled. Pinpricks of darker pigment lined her cheeks and dusted her nose, though did not appear to manifest anywhere else. Were they scars? Fever pox? His lips pressed thin, for he wasn’t quite sure. They appeared natural enough, but he’d never seen anyone with tiny spots on their face.

Her ears were comically small and for a moment, he thought they may be deformed. They were near a third the size of his own, pointed at their tips, yes, but too round. Too flat. He’d seen similar ears upon the small monkeys the trade cities sometimes imported. A crude comparison, perhaps, but the most accurate he could come up with.

“Have you seen anything like her before?” He asked.

The sage shook his head. “I can’t say that I have. Where did you find her in the first place?”

Rhydian sighed, finding no point in frustrating the man by withholding information when he already planned on binding him to an oath.

“Inside the Veil. She was attacked by a woman we were hunting in the area. I suspect she was alone prior to the encounter, but I can’t say for certain.”

Vesryn blew out a breath.“Well now, nothing good ever comes out of those woods. That would explain the bite wound. This woman, was she Blighted?”

Rhydian held a hand to his chin, the other crossed around his chest. “I don’t believe so.”

“Is she in custody?”

“Dead.”

“Hmm, and the body?”

“Stowed away in my annex,” he said.

Along with the rest of the bodies.

“If you would allow me, I should like to see it,” he said, at last retrieving his pen, “One can never be too careful.”

Rhydian considered. “Do you think the Blight might be causing her fever?”

“She’s shown no signs yet. Usually, the veins around the eyes darken a few hours after infection. The fever comes later. I thought it may have been an infection brought on by your . . . improvisation, but I’ve never seen one set in so quickly. She could be ailed by something else entirely.”

“All things considered,” he said, “it might be best if you performed an autopsy or an inspection, at the very least. I’ll bring the body to the morgue, but I’ll need something from you first.”