“But . . . that’s . . .”
“Someone’s shot an imager. Do you want the imagers after you?”
Getting into the coach wasn’t too hard. I didn’t even need Seliora’s help.
Once we sat down on the hard seat of the coach, she resumed pressing the handkerchief against and into the wound. “You’re still bleeding too much. I can’t stop it all.” She turned her head and yelled, “Faster!”
I tried to image something like a shield around the wound.
“Whatever you’re doing, Rhenn, keep doing it. The bleeding’s almost stopped.” She didn’t lessen the pressure on my shoulder, though. To keep the pressure on the wound, she had to be very close to me, and if it hadn’t have been for the pain-and the fear-I would have enjoyed that closeness a great deal more.
The ride toward the bridge seemed to take a long time, and no time at all, in a strange way, but before that long the hacker called down, “I’m not supposed to cross the bridge, Mistress!”
“Cross it!”
“But . . .”
A small pistol appeared in her gloved hand, and she leaned out the open coach window, pointing the pistol. “Cross it.”
The clatter of hoofs on stone was almost reassuring.
“Where should he go?” asked Seliora
I was having trouble thinking, and maintaining the shield over the wound, but it had to be the infirmary. Someone was always there. “The right . . . lane after we cross the bridge. The second building, and the first door, the one . . . staff and a green leaf on the door.”
Seliora shouted the directions to the driver, then turned back to me. “Hold on. Keep doing that.”
Then, the hacker brought the coach to a stop.
“Hold this in place, Rhenn.” She pressed my hand against the wadded handkerchief and the warm dampness, then pushed open the coach door and darted out, snapping something at the hacker.
I kept trying to stay awake and alert, trying to push back the encroaching darkness, as I heard doors opening and voices, but then . . . darkness was all there was.
. . . except a darkened twilight that I was carried through . . .
The room where I woke, if becoming vaguely aware of one’s surroundings meant awakening, was small and gray, and I lay on a hard and narrow bed or pallet. I had a vague recollection of being carried somewhere, and then someone standing over me, and pains shooting through my shoulder.
Seliora was standing there beside the bed. So was someone else, but she was closer.
“You’re here . . .” My voice was barely a whisper.
“I’m here. Where else would I be?” She reached out and squeezed my fingers-the ones on the hand of my uninjured side.
“Thank you.” I had to squint to see the figure behind her. “Master . . .?”
“Draffyd,” he supplied. “I took care of the wound, but you’ll have to lie still for a time. You won’t have a choice. You’re strapped to the bed, but that’s so that you don’t do anything to rip open the stitches and reopen the wound. Please don’t try to move against the restraints. Later, we’ll remove them, but for the next few glasses, you’ll need to be still.”
I didn’t like that at all, but there were both dull and sharp pains in my shoulder and chest, and both felt like I’d been run over by a draft horse with spiked shoes.
Master Draffyd turned to Seliora. “You cannot stay here for the evening.”
She just looked at him as if to ask why not.
“In Rhennthyl’s case, it wouldn’t be safe for either of you. There are imager reasons why this is so.”
She turned her head back to me.
I had to think for a moment before I realized why. Who knew what I’d do in my sleep? Or in a delirium. “He’s right . . . wish you could stay . . . but . . .”
“We’ll send you back home in a Collegium carriage. You’ll be quite safe,” added Master Draffyd. “We’re very thankful you were there, and both the Collegium and Rhenn owe you a great deal.”
“What about Rhenn?”
“He’ll recover. You got him here while he still had enough blood. If he were going to die, he’d already be dead. He’ll be very weak for a few days, but he’ll recover. You stay with him while I send for the carriage.” Master Draffyd nodded to Seliora, then slipped out of the room.
She moved closer. “That man outside Felters . . . I knew he was after you.”
“I . . . won’t dispute you . . . again.”
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
I started to nod, but even that hurt. “Yes. I think so . . . anyway . . . tried to disable him . . . Hurt too much . . .”
She bent over and brushed my forehead with her lips. She was so close I could see the redness in her eyes. She still looked lovely.
“ . . . be all right . . .”
“I expect it. Now . . . you be quiet. You don’t need to talk. Save your strength.” She squeezed my fingers again as she straightened, but she did not let go of them, not until Master Draffyd returned.
“The carriage will be outside in a few moments.”
“So soon?” she asked.
“There’s always one ready, at any glass.”
I hadn’t known that, not that it would have made any difference. The hacker had gotten us to Imagisle as fast as anyone could have. “The hacker . . .?”
“I had him paid,” said Master Draffyd. “The Collegium paid, actually. We also gave him a goodwill token. It’s worth a gold when he renews his medallion.” He paused. “I hear the carriage outside. It’s rather late, Mistress D’Shelim, and I’m certain your family has been worried.”
“They will understand.” Seliora bent over and kissed me, gently, but on the lips. “Take good care of yourself.” Then she stepped away.
After she left the room, Master Draffyd stepped closer. He held a small vial. “I’m going to give you something to deepen your sleep a little. You’ll have to open your mouth.”
I did, and he poured close to a cupful into me. Despite a mint-like scent that wasn’t unpleasant, the liquid itself tasted like acidic peppermint laced with cheap plonk, and I couldn’t help but grimace.
“It tastes terrible. I remember. You don’t forget.“ He stoppered the vial and slipped it into a pocket of his waistcoat, then looked back at me. “You wouldn’t be alive without the young woman, you know?”
“Nor . . . without you, either.”
“That’s true, but she had the presence of mind to get you here. How did she know?”
“I gave her directions.” I realized that I was a little stronger. Not much, but a trace.
He frowned. “You were awake?”
“Until after we crossed the bridge and got to the infirmary door. I was holding a shield tight against the wound . . . until the end when I got too light-headed to concentrate.”
“In that case, it did take both of you. She said so, but . . . it’s still amazing.”
That irritated me, weak as I was. “If Seliora said so . . . it’s true.”
“No. I’m certain she told the truth. I meant your holding a shield against a wound like that. Most wouldn’t think of that.”
I wouldn’t have thought of it without Seliora’s suggestion, but I wasn’t going to tell Master Draffyd that. “You imaged the bullet out, didn’t you, and then imaged some sort of dressing or patch in there.”
“It’s more complicated than that, but something like that.” He paused. “What about the man who shot you?”
“He’s dead, I think. I imaged caustic into his eyes and chest . . . inside his chest, near the heart. That was hard. He screamed and dropped over.” I could feel my eyes trying to close.
“You need to rest. Don’t worry. Someone will be watching.”
I was worried, but that didn’t stop my eyes from closing.
