Standing just beyond their swords’ reach, the three monsters formed a wall, cutting off their retreat to Erob. A scar-faced tharuk crouched, ready to pounce. The largest brute waved his sword menacingly, advancing on Roberto. The third rushed at Ezaara.
She feinted to the left, then thrust her sword to the right, gashing the tharuk’s arm. Snarling, the beast swiped at her and she spun out of reach, standing at Roberto’s back. This tharuk was smaller. With her sword, she had the longer reach. She leaped, attacking the beast.
Behind her, grunts and groans ripped the air before a high-pitched scream rang out.
“Scar-face is down,” Roberto yelled amid snarls.
Ezaara’s tharuk tried to knock the weapon from her grip. She chopped at its clawed furry hands. Her sword found its mark, piercing the monster’s palm. It howled, then wrapped its other hand round the sword blade. Not caring about slicing its fingers further, the beast pulled, yanking Ezaara closer.
For an instant she resisted, then let her bodyweight fly, slamming the beast to the ground. Pulling a dagger from her boot, she thrust the blade through its throat, then stood, chest heaving, to retrieve her weapons.
The tharuks were dead. The meadow was silent, save for the crackle of Erob’s flames as he kept further tharuks at bay.
Ezaara spun. Roberto was hunched over near the large brute, his body curled in pain.
She ran. Crouching next to Roberto, she examined him. Three gashes across his jerkin were stained red with his blood. Ezaara reached for her healing pouch at her waist, but cursed. In her haste to get ready, she’d left it behind. “Come,” she said, “let’s get you to Fleur’s healing post.”
His breathing was shallow, eyes wide with pain. “No, not Fleur. You can heal me back at Dragons’ Hold.”
He could bleed out before they got there. “No, Roberto. Fleur’s closer.”
“Never.” He winced.
“Roberto, this is no time for prejudice. I know you don’t like Simeon’s family, but this is your life we’re talking about.”
“That’s why I don’t want Fleur,” he spat through gritted teeth. Roberto gripped her hand, hurting it. “Promise you’ll take me straight home.”
Erob was still busy battling tharuks, but beyond the trees, she saw the glint of Zaarusha’s wings. She nodded. “Zaarusha! Hurry! Roberto’s hurt.”
Healing
Zaarusha thudded onto the ledge. Slumped over Zaarusha’s saddle, Roberto twitched. Ezaara shook him. He groaned. A trail of his blood ran down Zaarusha’s side.
“Roberto,” she urged. “We’re home. I can’t lift you down.”
“Get help,” Zaarusha commanded. “I’ll let you know if his breathing changes.”
Leaving Roberto tied to Zaarusha’s saddle, Ezaara dashed through her cavern into the main tunnels. Adelina wasn’t in the mess. Nor the training cavern. She stopped a girl. “Do you know where Adelina is?”
“Try the infirmary. Lars asked her to relieve Simeon for his meal break.”
Good, she’d need a few supplies to treat Roberto. Ezaara raced along the tunnel. The infirmary was empty except for Adelina.
“Hi, Ezaara, why are you back so early? Is the fight finished?”
Ezaara deliberately kept her voice low. “It’s Roberto, he’s injured.”
Dismay shot over Adelina’s face.
“A tharuk gashed his chest,” Ezaara said. “I need your help to lift him off Zaarusha. At my den, um, cavern.” She yanked open a drawer. “First, clean herb and bear’s bane.” She opened another drawer. Where was the vigor weed, clear-mind or heat herb? Not to mention basic supplies such as arnica or slippery elm powder.
“There’s nothing in those drawers,” Adelina said. “The only things I’ve found are endless tubs of smelly yellow salve, some green paste and grayish leaves.”
Ezaara yanked open a cupboard, but only found more of the ghastly yellow stuff. “Fleur says it’s made of special ingredients brought by the green guards.”
“Green guards come from Naobia, like me, and I’ve never seen that stuff there.” Adelina leaned closer. “Roberto doesn’t trust Fleur’s remedies, and I don’t either.”
Of course, Adelina shared her brother’s ridiculous prejudice. Ezaara picked up a small pot of yellow salve. “I’d better try this, in case Fleur’s right.”
“Not on my brother, you don’t.”
“What’s behind that old curtain?” Ezaara asked. While Adelina was distracted, Ezaara tucked the tiny pot in her jerkin pocket.
“I don’t know,” said Adelina. “Let’s check.”
Ezaara flung the curtain back to reveal an alcove of shelves crammed full of pots and jars all filled with the yellow salve or a sticky green paste. A few pouches contained gray leaves.
As she was turning away, Ezaara spied some earthenware jars at the back of the bottom shelf. “What’s in those?”
Dropping to their knees, she and Adelina pulled pots of yellow salve off the shelf to get at the earthenware jars. They uncorked a few.
An oniony scent filled the air. “That’s bear’s bane,” Ezaara said, pointing at Adelina’s jar of clear salve. “This one’s freshweed.” She put the cork back and opened another jar of dried pale-green leaves with a familiar tang. “Clean herb! I’ve got what I need. Let’s go.”
“This stuff has obviously been hidden,” Adelina said. “I knew they were up to no good.”
“Hurry, Ezaara,” melded Zaarusha. “Roberto’s breathing is getting more labored.”
“Quick,” Ezaara said. “Roberto’s getting worse.”
While Ezaara hurriedly replaced the pots at the back of the shelf, Adelina took off her jerkin and bundled the clean herb and bear’s bane pots inside it.
“So no one sees,” Adelina whispered, her face tight.
They’d just stepped out of the alcove and pulled the curtain shut when footsteps echoed outside the infirmary. Ezaara jerked her head toward the doorway and she and Adelina rushed across the room, slowing as Simeon entered.
Ezaara smiled, stepping in front of Adelina so Simeon wouldn’t see her bundle.
“My Honored Queen’s Rider.” He smiled warmly. “Are you hurt?” He took her in, head to foot.
She was splattered in black tharuk blood and red smears from
