When Kierion returned, Marlies held the flame near Adelina’s face, lifting her eyelids and examining her pupils. “They’re still dilating, so she should be fine. It’ll just take time until she wakes, but we’ll need to monitor her and keep her warm.”
Seeing the wounds marring Adelina’s legs roused fierce protectiveness in Kierion again, like a burning in his chest. Strange. He’d never noticed that when anyone else had been hurt. He shrugged. Actually, it wasn’t weird at all. He’d been trying to hide how he’d felt about Adelina ever since he’d met her. Her cute smile was part of the reason he’d agreed to go with her this morning. Maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe she wouldn’t have gone then. Or she could’ve gone on her own. That could’ve ended much worse.
Anyway, him liking her could never lead anywhere. She was way too young. Kierion sighed.
Marlies treated and bound Adelina’s legs. “Now, let’s look at you,” she said, fists on hips. “Into that bed.”
“But I—”
“Go on. No protesting. First, get that wet gear off.”
His injuries were throbbing so badly, Marlies had to help Kierion strip off his shirt.
“Those are some nasty gashes there. Tharuk claws by the looks of things. You’re lucky they weren’t limplocked.”
“Limplock’s the stuff Lovina was poisoned with when she came to Dragons’ Hold, isn’t it?”
Marlies nodded. “It paralyzes you slowly over days, starting with your limbs and working its way inward until your heart gives out. Terrible stuff. Luckily, we developed an antidote years ago. Although I need to make more because our supplies are low.” She gave a grim smile, rubbing healing salve on his ribs, the ache easing. Tilting her head, she looked at his throat. “How does it feel when you breathe?’
“A bit rough.”
“Hmm.” She rubbed salve into his throat around his neck. “Any better?”
“Still feels odd when I breathe.”
“The tissue must be swollen.” She held up a vial of green juice.
“Piaua?”
She nodded, rubbing it into his neck. His throat grew hot and the discomfort eased.
“I’m going to have to use piaua juice on these gashes.” Marlies tipped a drop in one of the wounds 1777 had made.
“Shards.” It stung, like wildfire racing through the wound. Before his eyes, the flesh knitted over. She worked on the next gouge. “A shame tharuks have claws,” Kierion joked lamely.
Marlies didn’t laugh. “A shame they exist at all.”
That’s right. Marlies had returned from Death Valley only two moons ago. It was doubtful she’d ever joke about tharuks.
“These should keep you warm until I get you some more clothes. I’m not having you put sodden ones back on.” She covered Kierion’s naked torso with blankets. “Right, that’s better.”
“Um. There’s one thing.”
“Yes?”
“Do you mind not telling Lars that I was out fighting tharuks?” he whispered.
“Kierion, I think—”
“Please,” he wheedled, “I’ll find whatever herbs you need for limplock remedy.”
Marlies shook her head, chuckling.
“And please don’t mention I was with a wizard. Riders really should fight with mages. It’s much more efficient.”
“I agree.” She nodded.
“You do? We should do something about it,” Kierion said.
“Can you keep an eye on Adelina while I help a patient back to his quarters? I’ll be back soon.”
“Sure,” Kierion replied, but as Marlies turned her back, his eyes were already drifting shut.
§
Adelina opened her eyes. She had a pounding headache. Gods, where was she? In a bed. With rows of more beds along the walls—the infirmary. So, she’d made it back to Dragons’ Hold. The last thing she’d known, she’d been fighting that tharuk in a tree. Shards, her head hurt, especially at the back. She ran her fingers over her skull. There was a huge tender egg. No wonder her head throbbed.
She flexed her leg. All good. Marlies must’ve healed her with piaua.
Kierion was sleeping in the neighboring bed, breathing softly, looking peaceful without his usual mischievous grin. His blankets had slipped, revealing his wide shoulders and a broad chest that tapered to a narrow waist. Shards, she hadn’t realized he had so many muscles.
“Hi, sleepyhead,” Kierion said softly.
He’d woken. Her eyes flew to his and her face grew hot. Claws, she’d been caught gawking at him.
“How are you feeling?” He threw his blankets back, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. A shaft of pale sunlight caught the fine blond hair on his tanned chest, making it glint. He was watching her, an odd expression on his face.
Adelina slid her eyes away.
His brow creased. “Hey, Adelina, are you all right?” He knelt by the side of her bed, his chest and shoulders even with her face.
“Um, I’m fine.” Mouth dry, she swallowed.
“You must be thirsty. Here, have this.” Kierion helped her to sit, and passed her a cup from her bedside table, those sharding muscles flexing right in front of her.
“Um, thanks.” The cool water helped.
He grabbed a clean shirt from the foot of his bed and tugged it on, then put on a clean jerkin.
“Are you going already?”
He settled in a chair by her bed, patting her hand. “No, Adelina, I’m not going anywhere until you’re well.” For once he wasn’t smiling.
Rumble Weed
“Flame it, Kierion.” Lars stomped over to the fire and turned to face him. “I called you a fool last time, but at least you showed promise. Now you’ve proved you’re nothing but a sharding fool. Please explain how Adelina got hurt so badly by tharuks?”
Behind Lars, the fire crackled in the grate, devouring the kindling.
“It was my idea, sir.” She’d been feeling unwell for a day now, so there was no way Kierion was going to lay the blame
