Lars waited until Simeon left, and shut the door. He turned to Gret, whose fists were balled tightly against her sides. “Gret, I know your intentions are good, but you can’t hold people at knife point. You can be aware and alert. You can keep an eye out. But you cannot draw weapons because someone is looking through a keyhole. No matter how much you dislike him. No matter how angry you are at him. Understood?” He sighed. “Tomorrow, report to the kitchens for duty. I can’t have you injuring Simeon and going unpunished—no matter how slight his injury was.”
Gret’s shoulders slumped. The skin under her eyes was dark with weariness. “Yes, Master Lars.”
“Now,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “go back to bed. You look like you need some sleep.”
Healing Calls
It was late and Septimor still hadn’t arrived. Ezaara paced between her cavern and the queen’s den—waiting, doing nothing, while the blue guards were taking Roberto closer to the Wastelands. She couldn’t even prepare for the trip with Adelina sitting on her bed. “Are you sure that’s the right remedy?” Ezaara asked.
“Absolutely sure. I’m glad you remembered seeing these in Fleur’s alcove.” Adelina placed a vial of yellow granules back into the fleece-lined box. “Will you relax?” she said. “All that pacing is wearing me out.”
Ezaara slumped in a chair, jiggling her leg.
“Quit that wiggling too.” Adelina sighed. “All right, I’m sorry for snapping at you. It was Roberto’s decision to banish himself, not yours. Did you realize what you were doing when you gave him this?” She fished a green satin ribbon out of her pocket.
Ezaara gasped. “That’s mine. I gave it to Roberto the day Zaarusha flew a loop.”
“I know. I put them in your hair, although I wouldn’t have, if I’d known this would happen.”
“What?”
“You still don’t get it!” Fists on her knees, Adelina leaned forward in her seat. “By accepting your ribbon, Roberto vowed to become your protector until he dies.”
“What?”
“You already said that.” She rolled her eyes. “Ribbon gifting is tradition. Look, I don’t want to be angry with you. I’ve been thinking about it. Roberto would’ve done the same for me. In fact, he probably would’ve done the same for you without this.” She tossed the length of green satin at Ezaara.
The ribbon unfurled in the air, falling in a tangle in Ezaara’s lap. “I didn’t ask anything of Roberto. Zaarusha told me to give it to him.”
“You should never underestimate a dragon, especially our queen.”
Zaarusha had engineered Roberto to be her protector and had then allowed him to be shipped off? He’d been too convincing for his own good. Ezaara wound the ribbon around her finger, the smooth satin soothing her skin. She wound it onto the fingers of her other hand, and then jumped out of her chair and paced to the den and back. “When are they going to get here?”
“Why are you so uptight?” Adelina frowned, then her eyes flew wide. “Oh. This is about my brother, isn’t it?”
Ezaara opened her mouth, but before she could protest, there was a whump in Zaarusha’s den.
“Septimor’s finally here!” Ezaara ran to the den, Adelina on her heels.
Septimor’s wings were limp by his sides. “I think she’s unconscious from limplock and blood loss.” He craned his neck toward the girl slumped in one of his saddlebags.
“You look exhausted,” Ezaara said.
“I’ll hunt soon.” Septimor glanced around. “Where’s Master Roberto?”
“Banished.” Ezaara was careful to mind-meld, so Adelina wouldn’t get upset.
Septimor’s eye ridges flew up. “Whatever for? He’s one of our best.” He lowered himself so they could lift the girl out of the saddlebag.
She was about thirteen and as pale as goat’s cheese, with a deep bloody gash on her forearm and one of her little fingers hanging off by a scrap of flesh. Her hands were cold, fingers stiff and curled, but her forehead was burning.
“Her name is Leah. Take care of her, Ezaara. I have to get back to Seppi—he’s still fighting tharuks.” The blue dragon flapped his wings and left.
They carried Leah to Ezaara’s bed.
“What’s wrong with her hands?” Ezaara asked, trying to pry her fingers open. “I’ve never seen anything like it. And her breathing’s shallow too.”
“That’s limplock. It sticks to your nerves, slowly paralyzing you.” Adelina unlaced the girl’s boots. “Roberto taught me about tharuk poisons when I was small. Look.” She pointed to the girl’s toes. Leah’s feet were curled in and her legs were spasming. “I hope we’re not too late.”
“She needs a full vial of the remedy, sprinkled on her tongue, a little at a time.” Adelina grimaced. “It’ll be tricky because she’s unconscious.”
“No problem.” Ezaara pushed Leah’s lip against her tooth, making Leah automatically drop her jaw. “You give her that, while I staunch the bleeding.”
“Good trick.” Adelina sprinkled a few grains onto Leah’s tongue.
Ezaara made a tourniquet on Leah’s upper arm, out of a shirt and her knife, to slow the blood supply to her forearm. The bleeding eased. She examined the gash. Deep, but it could be stitched, and with the help of piaua … She dribbled the pale green juice into the ripped flesh, to heal the deepest layers. The girl twitched and groaned. The flesh slowly knitted together, but it could use some help. Ezaara threaded her needle with squirrel gut, then stitched the wound while Adelina held the edges together. Then she rubbed more piaua along the scar.
“Now we’ve got to deal with her finger.” Ezaara exhaled forcefully. Although this wasn’t a job she relished, she had no choice. The finger was already pale and bloodless. She had no way of stitching bones and nerves back together.
Ezaara went out to the den and called, “Zaarusha?”
“Coming. Septimor told me you have a limplocked girl here.” The queen flew
