“Healer,” she groaned through the pain. Her legs spasmed. Her lower back throbbed, felt prickly and numb. “In my pack!”
“Sorry,” he groaned. “This is going to hurt.”
She nodded as he sat her up. Bone ground on bone. Her head threw back while teeth clenched down hard, clacking together. Her entire face strained as she growled her agony. Legs spasmed. He drew off her pack and then stretched her onto her back. The pain retreated to only moderate torture.
Fear surged over the throbbing fire of her injuries. Ōbhin was fighting that thing. She’d witnessed his sword’s ineffectiveness. How could they beat it? She struggled to think, but the pain drowned out her thoughts.
Fingers produced the topaz. He activated it with a press, the orange light bathing her face with the gentle love of a mother’s kiss. Memories of her mother on a bright day, when she was smiling and loving, flowed through Avena’s mind. “There are my two otters,” her mother said, scooping up Avena and her dead twin, Evane. “Look at you, just drenched.”
The topaz rested on her shoulder, soothing away the fire as, for a moment, she felt like she was in her mother’s arms with Evane and nothing bad had ever happened.
The blaring shout from the crystalman shattered that moment of peace: “PSADZEF ACHIE!”
*
“Avena!” Ōbhin groaned as he scrambled to his feet, his thigh throbbing from the punch. He spotted Fingers kneeling down where she’d vanished. He wanted to rush over there, but he couldn’t bring this thing anywhere near her.
“Ōbhin!” Bran shouted, the youth looking serious as he raced around one of the carriages, Miguil on his heels.
Ōbhin retreated as the crystalman swung blows at him. It slammed its fist into the ground. Dust burst around it. A loud snap. A crack raced across the floor’s smooth surface. The automaton advanced, its diamond eyes shining at Ōbhin.
Bran darted in to swing the binder, but the crystalman pivoted and swung a fist. A chime-like tinkle echoed as it moved, its crystalline structure resonating. Bran squeaked out in fright and threw himself down. Dajouth rushed in, his blond hair glowing in the diamond lantern shining behind him. Dualayn held it as he pressed himself against the wall.
“Ōbhin!” Miguil shouted. He snatched up Ōbhin’s weapon and tossed the humming blade at him.
He cursed and flinched back as the curved tulwar tumbled through the air, emerald light flashing. It hit the concrete floor at his feet, slicing through the stone. He yanked back his foot, narrowly missing having his toes severed. The crossguard hit the stone, stopping the blade from cutting deeper.
“Sorry!” Miguil groaned, wincing.
The crystalman rang, “PSADZEF ACHIE!”
The sound echoed through the room. Dajouth flinched back and shook his head. He looked dazed. Bran shoved him to the side, throwing him out of the way of being crushed by a fist.
“Hey!” Ōbhin shouted, wanting to protect his men. “Over here!”
He backed past one of the thick support columns. The crystalman turned, its diamond eyes shining focused beams across the carriage house. They landed on Ōbhin and focused. Its entire body pivoted and marched at him. He had to figure out a way to kill this thing. To deactivate it.
His eyes flicked around, searching for something.
*
“Where else you hurt?” Fingers asked, the ground shaking beneath Avena.
“Shoulder’s dislocated and back might be broken,” she groaned.
“Is there another healer in here?” Fingers asked, digging around. He had a frantic look on his face.
“No,” she said. She closed her eyes, the soothing bliss of the topaz radiating through her. The numbness in her back retreated. “I need you to pop my arm into place. The topaz can’t do that.”
“How?” he asked.
“Grab my arm and yank,” she said. “I’ll let you know when the ball of my humerus is back in the shoulder socket.”
He grabbed her hand, squeezing her through the earth gauntlet. The emeralds still shone, spilling verdant light across his fatherly features. He stood up and then planted his boot on her chest beneath her shoulder joint.
“This is gonna hurt?” he asked.
She nodded and tensed. She held the topaz to her shoulder with her left hand. “Do! It!”
He pulled. Hard.
She screamed. The love flowing from the topaz couldn’t blunt the pain of her torn ligaments twisting and her humerus’s ball sliding over her shoulder socket. Bone ground on bone. It popped into place.
“That’s it!” she snarled through clenched teeth.
He let go. Her arm flopped down. She panted, sweat soaking her face. She closed her eyes, drawing in ragged breaths, rubbing the healer over her shoulder, letting it repair her. She relaxed as the pain flowed out of her.
“Better?” Fingers asked.
“Yeah,” she said. She flexed prickling toes. A humming fuzz danced over her thoughts. “Now go. You have to help Ōbhin.”
Fingers’s brow furrowed. He glanced over the carriage towards the fight and then back down at her. “You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’ll be up soon and . . .” Her words trailed off as the minor prickling she felt intensified in her toes. A surge of panic rushed through her. She squeezed down on the topaz, her digits feeling thick and useless. Her grip didn’t feel as sure.
“It’s happening?” Fingers asked, kneeling down beside her.
She didn’t want to admit it. She didn’t want to think it was happening now. Her obsidian mind wasn’t receiving a clear signal, distorted by a hiss, almost a whisper. A wave of fear washed through her. The ground shook from the crystalman, Ōbhin and her friends fought for their lives, and she was about to be
