Ezaara sped across the floor and knelt beside him. She kissed his bloodstained lips, pulling back when he winced. “I’m sorry, I should have come earlier. He’s hurt you so badly …”
“Do you have a hacksaw? Something to cut my chains?”
“Yes, but I broke it …” She sawed his chains, barely scratching them with the broken, blunted blade. She yanked them, but they were firmly anchored into the stone. “I can’t free you.” Ezaara opened her healer’s pouch. “But I can heal you. What’s worst?”
“Leave the blood. Do it surreptitiously so he doesn’t notice.”
“I’ll start with limplock remedy.”
“And clear-mind, so I can see your face.”
Roberto was a mess. Ezaara fought to keep her despair under control. If Zens woke, he’d sense her. Her hands trembled as she shook the yellow granules onto Roberto’s tongue.
He swallowed them and slumped back against the wall. “So tired.”
“You need food. Zens has been starving you.” She popped a small piece of flatbread and two clear-mind berries into Roberto’s mouth.
He chewed, his bent fingers scrabbling at her wrist. “You know I love you?”
“And I love you too.” She fed him some more and he wolfed it down. The gray film over his eyes was fading, so Ezaara gave him powdered dragon’s scale. “What’s next?”
“I can see again. You’re beautiful.” He smiled, then winced. “My ribs ache and the wounds on my back may be festering.” Roberto pointed at his front tooth. “This one’s loose.”
Ezaara unstopped a vial of piaua, put a drop on her finger, and rubbed it into his gum. She lifted his jerkin and applied more to the bruising on his ribs. Two of the wounds on his back were inflamed, oozing pus. There was no time for clean herb, so she dribbled piaua on them, hoping his body could fight the infection once the wounds had closed.
“My nose aches.”
The bridge of his nose was swollen. She pressed it and he winced. “I think it’s broken. Here, let me see what I can do.” She rubbed piaua on it and the bone straightened. “I’m leaving the blood. With that swollen eye, I doubt Zens and 000 will notice anything’s been healed.”
“Good idea. Um … I know another healing remedy …” He grinned.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“We’ll have to be careful so Zens doesn’t sense us.”
“Just a small kiss, then?”
The spark in Roberto’s ebony eyes was his only answer. Their lips brushed. With the tang of Roberto’s blood on her lips, Ezaara kissed him. His dark blue sathir mixed with hers, swirling around them. Like a bird basking in the sun, love unfurled inside her, in a warm glow.
Roberto stopped, holding her face in his hands. He gasped. “We can’t. Zens will sense us.”
“I’m watching through that wall. I see every time they beat you.” Ezaara lips trembled. “We have to get you out of here.”
“Are you alone?”
She nodded.
“I thought as much. Tonio said they wouldn’t come after me if I got caught.” Roberto got to his feet and stretched, his shackles clinking. “That’s much better. Thank you.”
“You look good.” Well, that was an exaggeration. Still battered, he was a mess. “Too good.”
“And now?” He slumped, drooping his head, his mouth lolling open and fingers curling inward.
“Like before,” Ezaara said, smiling, trying to encourage him.
Footfalls thudded out in the corridor.
“Quick, up there,” Roberto pointed to a narrow hole above his head, shrouded in shadow. “Use this ventilation shaft.”
“But I unbarred the door. They’ll see.” A bolt of panic shot through her. She stuffed the hacksaw blade into her rucksack.
“What’s this? Bar gone?” a tharuk grunted outside the door. Wood clattered to the floor. “Hidden? Why?”
Another tharuk yowled. Scuffling echoed in the tunnel.
“Hurry, on my shoulders. Now.”
She scrambled onto Roberto’s injured back and hoisted herself inside the shaft. Her cloak caught on the edge. She yanked, ripping the corner, leaving a tiny scrap hanging on the lip of the shaft. The door thudded open and tharuks bowled inside. Hopefully no one would notice it. She scrambled along the tunnel, Roberto’s fresh screams slicing through the air.
Spangles
Tomaaz awoke to someone shaking him in the dark. He fumbled for his healer’s pouch next to the bed and shook a vial of dragon’s breath, illuminating a face. “Kierion? How did you get in here?”
Grinning, Kierion shrugged. “Ready to go?” He strode to Taliesin’s bed and woke him.
“Should we really bring Taliesin? He’s just a boy.” He’d been so traumatized in Death Valley, how would he react to tharuks? “What about food? I—”
“Maaz, I want to come,” Taliesin said, hopping out of bed.
“It’ll do him good. Come on, Tomaaz, you’re being an old woman. Let’s go before someone sees us.”
Tomaaz yanked on his boots, helped Taliesin dress and scribbled a note on parchment for his parents. They extinguished the dragon’s breath and sneaked out to the den.
Riona was waiting next to Maazini with full saddlebags. “Morning, Tomaaz,” Maazini melded. “I’m looking forward to killing some tharuks today.”
“Maazini and Kierion, I’m worried about Taliesin.” He spoke aloud so they could both hear him.
“Here, try this.” Kierion threw something to Tomaaz. It clinked as he caught it. “That’s heavy.” He shook it out. It was a tiny chain mail vest, the right size for Taliesin. “Maazini, could you give me some light?” Tomaaz asked, helping the lad into it.
Taliesin stroked the chain mail, eyes bright in a flame from Maazini’s jaws.
They climbed upon their dragons, Taliesin in front of Tomaaz. Hopefully, he wouldn’t regret bringing him.
“Here, breakfast to eat on the way.” Kierion threw them two small packages, then Riona bunched her legs
