I rolled to standing and tackled her.
My physical assault took her by surprise; I pinned her with ridiculous ease. Did nobles never scuffle as children? She made a pitiful attempt to throw me off, but I pressed harder into her back and held her hands still. “Bree, behave. You’re a Dragon Mage, not a child.”
“Get off me, you brat! I swear I’ll—”
A low rumble. Silver scales appeared beside us.
Bree went limp. I climbed off her. “Mettalise, please escort Dragon Mage Bree from the Infirmary.”
Mettalise smiled and opened her claws.
“I’ll go on my own,” Bree spat. She pushed herself up and glared through tears. “The Dragonmaster will hear of this.”
We watched her go. The second she disappeared through the hallway door, I rounded on Mettalise. “Where were you?”
*Testing you.* She gave me a lazy blink that reminded me of a cat.
“‘Testing’? She threw spells at me! You were supposed to be my shield!”
*Yes, and when I didn’t rescue you, you took charge of the situation.* Mettalise tilted her head toward a human-dragon pair on the ‘healthier’ side. *Lian says his mage’s thoughts are sluggish. Convince him to go to the human infirmary?*
This time, I managed to convince the mage without Mettalise’s help; he wasn’t as hostile as he was confused, and his head wound coated half his face with blood. While I asked one of the mages who’d made Lights to assist the injured man, Mettalise rushed over to Byron’s dragon. The two helped hold down a patient while Byron pulled out massive spears.
*I’m needed here, and it looks like everyone’s behaving. Assist Shamino. And I am sorry about earlier. If it helps, I didn’t expect her to use anything lethal.*
I sent her a glare across the room.
Mettalise grinned. *Also. You passed.*
Against my will, my glare turned into a smile.
My pleasure at Mettalise’s words died as I approached Shamino. He’d mended the yellow’s wings. Now he was with Jaya, his hands pressed against her neck. Without the chaos of arrival, I saw how teeth had nearly ripped out her throat. That she’d flown herself to the Kyer was unbelievable.
Shamino stepped backward. The dark green haze around Jaya’s throat faded, but the wound remained terrible as ever. New bubbles didn’t form. Her body didn’t move, not even her chest. Shamino’s shoulders shook.
“Is she?” I said in a whisper.
“She shouldn’t have flown,” he said. “Stupid dragon. Her mage was injured, but someone else could have carried her. Jaya lost too much blood and I—if I had worked on her first…”
I wiped a tear from my cheek and dried my hand on my breeches. Then, very gently, I touched his shoulder with my fingertips. The shaking stopped and I slid my hand so my palm molded the warm muscle under his shirt.
Mere moments felt like eternity. I didn’t speak. I’d lost my mother; I knew words of comfort sounded hollow. Knowing that someone stood beside you, and would stay beside you, that was the closest anyone could come to comfort.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he turned. Briefly my hand slid over his shoulder, down his arm, and we were separate again. He raised his hand to wipe away tears, but paused when he saw the blood. “I’m washing up. Then I’m saving the others.”
The next dragon’s eyes weren’t glassy, but they didn’t focus and his deep purple scales seemed pale. Aside from various claw wounds, he’d been struck by two spears as thick as my leg. One spear had been removed, but so much blood soaked the bandage that it sagged. The dragon’s mage sat beside the patient’s head, an untouched basin of water in his lap. He murmured soothingly, but the dragon gave no signs of hearing.
Shamino joined us and did a quick survey of the dragon’s wounds. “I’ll heal the puncture first so he doesn’t bleed out. Then Raul and I will remove that spear. Adara, it’s right against the fire chamber. If I don’t heal as the spear’s removed, he’ll die. Make sure no one bothers us.”
“Understood.”
“While I see to that first wound, why don’t you—” He stopped. Once again, he’d been about to ask me to use my Gift. “There. Sylvia has fresh ointment for us. Smear it on anything that bleeds, nice and thick. I’ll… have Sylvia’s dragon come by to bandage.”
I heard his reluctance. Dragons didn’t have the dexterity of a human with skilled Telekinesis. Sylvia’s dragon could likely bandage better than most, but someone would need to come by later and retie everything. Someone human and Gifted.
I’m still doing something useful. I couldn’t lift the heavy bucket of pungent yellow sludge, so I scooped some into a bowl. For the briefest moment, the herby ointment masked the sulfuric scent of dragon blood, but it didn’t block the moans that had become as familiar as sheep bleating. I smeared ointment on the nearest gash.
My hands grew wrinkled, my nose immune to the scent of both blood and ointment. Every time I emptied the bucket, a new one appeared on the cart. In the corner, surrounded by herbs and kettles and buckets, Sylvia grew haggard as she mixed and muttered.
Time blurred. Shamino healed. I smeared. Once in a while I fetched hot water or held tools. I’m a table with hands, I thought bitterly. If dragons could have tolerated being near non-Gifted humans, I would have been completely unnecessary.
We moved from dying to debilitating. Shamino fished around leg muscle with tweezers, aided by his magical sense of the dragon’s flesh. He removed one thin metal rod after another, placing each on the tray I held.
“What did this?” Shamino asked the dragon’s mage. He could talk when he wasn’t using magic.
“Some type of projectile,” she said. “A canister. I ignored it since Jerril usually knocks aside projectiles with his tail. The canister exploded midair, some type of delayed spell, and it was filled with those.”
I handed Shamino a rag, and he wiped a swath of blood off the wound. “Make sure the Dragonmaster hears about it. I don’t
