Ryan hadn’t stopped thinking about Anna healing Daniel since he’d thought of it. He felt renewed purpose and was chafing for something to get her motivated. He knew she liked his brother and would be happy to heal him once able. The trick was getting her to see that they lived in a new reality now and that she had to change her perspective. He wanted to talk to her more, but every time their eyes met, he saw her looking like she wanted to avoid him. A pang of regret filled him. Wouldn’t it be ironic if his pressure became the reason she refused to open herself up to the gods of this world or of Earth? He wanted to laugh. Or cry. For now, he decided to bite his tongue, sitting over by Matt and studiously avoiding any hope-filled gazes at the medical student.
Ahead on the trail, a sharp shout preceded a hoarse bellow. Several thuds boomed ominously before a crack of stone striking stone and a scream split the air. Everyone rose and reached for weapons as Lorian issued commands, pointing up the trail where two elves ran with bows drawn. Rognir came to stand beside the champions, gesturing for Ryan to get out his sword. The dwarf’s axe gleamed before them, its obvious wear and tear adding realism to their dread.
“What is it?” Anna asked, moving toward her horse. Ryan thought she looked ready to mount and go. The idea sounded better the second someone answered her.
“Ogres,” replied Matt, able to understand elven thanks to Lorian’s spell.
“Indeed.” Rognir brandished his axe, taking warm up swings. “Battle is upon us. I suggest you remain behind me.”
“No argument there,” muttered Matt as angry sounds reached them.
He wiped both hands on his robe and Ryan suspected the wizard’s palms were sweaty, like his. Ryan mentally reviewed what Lorian taught him about not hurting anyone much, though that now seemed less important than protecting himself. The assassin attack had happened so fast he never had time to think about it, but this time the waiting was awful and he eyed the horses. He would not be the first to run, but if someone else went for it, he was all in.
Suddenly a low rumbling began as the ogres charged around the bend, two elves retreating ahead of them. Morven and others stood at the trailhead with arrows nocked, and when the ogres came into view, he called out in elven. The elves let fly, all at the lead ogre, six arrows striking it in the head, neck, and chest. It tumbled in a heap, its huge, spiked club rolling ahead of it. Two other ogres tripped over it, slowing the pack and giving the elves time for one more volley. None of the remaining six or seven ogres fell.
Rognir moved a few steps ahead of the champions as if to bar the way to them and Ryan reluctantly joined him. An arrow soared overhead toward the ogres from behind the champions, via the other elf watching their rear. As the attackers reached the clearing, a line of elves tried to bottle them up on the path so that only one or two ogres could attack at once, but momentum carried four ogres into the clearing, their wooden clubs whooshing through the air, metal protrusions catching elven blades. They weren’t kidding around and Ryan paled at the sickening crunch as an elf’s shoulder shattered and he flew sideways. Lorian replaced the fallen one, sword bouncing right off a club that soon sent another elf to the ground with pulverized bones. Rognir clomped forward to drag the wounded elf back by the tunic before bending to heal him as Ryan watched curiously, but unable to see the result.
Suddenly Eric threw a knife over the heads of the elves, but the blade missed when the beast happened to move. The knife distracted the ogre long enough for Lorian to kill it. Eric’s next knife flew true into another’s throat, killing it instantly. As the corpse toppled backward, Ryan felt no regret, just relief. What did that mean about him?
A roar to one side startled him. An ogre had come around the thick brush and trees unseen. Its club hurtled toward his head and he barely ducked as it whooshed by. He retreated, eyes wide, forgetting everything Lorian had taught him. As the club came down like a hammer, he sidestepped and stumbled on a tree root. By the time he recovered, there was no dodging the coming blow. He raised the sword and met the club with a clang, nearly losing his grip. The ogre raised the club with both hands, lust for death on its face. Did it sense what Ryan did, that the knight stood dead center, too close to dodge, and had little idea how to use that sword? Realizing his peril, Ryan lunged and stabbed it through the stomach. The ogre squealed hideously and slid back off the blade, sickly red blood oozing out. Ryan blanched at what he’d done. His self-preservation instinct had overridden his dispositions as if they were nothing.
The ogre’s expression promised such death and personal hatred that Ryan snapped out of it. It was still going to kill him, but he didn’t have to do the same. With a grimace of resignation, he punched the ogre in the wound and it doubled over, screeching awfully. Then Ryan clobbered it in the jaw. The ogre toppled backwards and lay stunned and unmoving.
A moment passed before Ryan realized he’d done it. He’d stopped it, and without killing it. Or at least he thought so. Suddenly worried he ended a life, he looked at the Trinity Ring on one hand. Rognir had told him how to use it, so he put one hand on the ogre and focused his will on the middle stone. Tingling warmth spread from his hand, which glowed softly as the belly wound all but disappeared. He’d never seen magical healing or experienced it, feeling like an affirmation of God’s power had occurred. Sighing in relief, he rose and moved over by Anna and Matt. Maybe he could do this champion stuff after all.
He saw that another three ogres lay dead, despite Lorian’s comments that elves held all life sacred. Maybe elves weren’t so pious after all. Or maybe they just understood something that he didn’t. Rognir had meanwhile healed several elves and Ryan could tell that Anna hadn’t moved from where he’d last seen her, far from the action. He couldn’t blame her, but it meant she wasn’t even trying. Even he was.
Anna had watched Rognir leaning over one injured elf after another as if helping them, but she hadn’t seen anything happen. No glow of godly power. No wounds closing. Nothing. She wasn’t even sure he’d helped them in any way, not to mention by laying on hands. His back had been turned each time. Part of her felt annoyed by that, but part of her was relieved that no proof she was wrong about gods had shown up. The medical student in her couldn’t help thinking of how one wound or another would be treated back on Earth.
Ryan’s fight with the ogre had surprised her a little, that he could fight back so well despite the whole non-violence thing. If she wasn’t so consumed by fear she might’ve almost felt proud of him. She had no idea why he’d leaned over the ogre after. Still waiting beside Matt, she now watched Eric standing ready for another knife throw, when something caught her eye. The ogre Ryan had fought rose to its feet. Her eyes darted to its belly, wondering how that could be, and she stared uncomprehending at the belly wound that was now gone. For a moment, this distracted her into not realizing it was raising its club and swinging at the nearest target.
“Eric!” she screamed as the club flew toward his shoulder.
The martial artist was already turning, but Anna saw it wouldn’t be fast enough. With a sickening crunch of shattered bones, the blow flung him five feet away, where he landed screaming and writhing in pain, the knife from his other hand sticking out of his thigh. Without thinking, Anna ran over to him, putting herself in danger as she knelt and tried to stop him from rolling back in forth in agony. Behind her, she heard Matt’s voice speaking words that sounded like magic.
“Kertemor iafiirlompu terteli, uapiiltoko nukoorkel naakli.” Shards of ice like darts be thrown, strike my foe down to the bone.
Anna looked up at the ogre, only now realizing her peril. She’d seen enough men ogle her to be surprised by a similar expression on its disgusting face. If Matt’s spell had worked, there was no sign of it. She heard him saying it again, faster, more nervously she thought, and realized it hadn’t worked. Then another voice spoke similar yet different words and she glanced over to see Lorian crumbling a piece of stone in one outstretched hand, toward the ogre. She looked up again. The ogre’s face twisted i
n surprise, its movement slowing to a stop and a grunt abruptly cutting off. Its skin turned a deep grey as it turned to stone, upraised club and all.
Suddenly the noisy Rognir stopped beside her, examining the still writhing Eric, who continuously moaned in such pain that Anna fought back tears. “How bad is it?”
Anna shook her head, unable to speak. His shoulder had shattered. He’d never use the arm again and modern hospitals back home would never get all the bone fragments out. Even his neck had twisted from the tortured angle of his shoulder and he’d never be pain free again. The dwarf laid a hand on the rogue and spoke a word. Eric relaxed into a stupor, his head lolling to one side as if he were delirious, no longer groaning.
“He will feel no pain for a few minutes,” Rognir advised her, “but you must heal him quickly.”
She’d forgotten all about that, but now was not the time for half-baked theories. She opened her mouth to say so but what came out was, “But I don’t know how.”
“Lay your hands on him,” he advised gently, “and ask your chosen god for help with all your heart and soul. I know you care for him. The gods will answer you.”
She looked down at the rogue, his glazed eyes on hers as if dimly aware. Placing both hands on him, she honestly wanted him healed, but the gods she’d read about all seemed jumbled to her, their names and what they stood for confused. There were too many and she longed for one god to make it simple like on Earth, which only reminded her that this was all nonsense. She looked down at her hands, tightly clenched on Eric’s clothes. Nothing was happening. It didn’t surprise her. Her pleading eyes sought the dwarf’s.
Rognir took her hands away and placed his own on the rogue. In dwarven, he spoke quietly for almost a minute, sincerity on his bearded face. Anna wished she could understand him, gain some insight into what he was doing. Finally, a golden light spread from Rognir’s hands over Eric’s shoulder before fading, like all signs of Eric’s injuries. Even his leg had healed. The rogue blinked and sat up, clear eyes on the dwarf.
“Thank you,” Eric said emphatically. “Words cannot describe…”
Rognir patted him. “Then do not strain yourself. There is no need.” He got to his feet wearily. From what Anna had heard, the power she’d finally just witnessed used the priest’s body as a conduit, an act that was draining. The dwarf had healed multiple people just now. He took a long pull from a pouch that Anna knew wasn’t water before stomping away past a dead elf. The skull damage had killed that one instantly. Anna realized it was the one who knew how to slay a dragon and hoped Ryan didn’t notice that. Only now did Anna realize the battle was over.
She turned Eric. “Are you alright?”
He nodded slowly, as if lost in thought. Then he began to smile. “You’ve got to try that,” he said, and she assumed he meant healing someone, until he added, “It feels great.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” He sounded surprised, but then he looked away and she followed his gaze to Ryan. Even from here, the big guy looked pale and shaken. The knight had healed the ogre, which had then nearly killed Eric. Wondering what he was thinking, she turned to the rogue, and the quiet anger she now saw in his eyes left little to wonder about.
“Not now,” she said quietly. “Not when you’re mad.”
“I’m never not going to be mad.”
She leaned over to hug him and sudden tears spilled down her cheeks, he put both arms around her and they stayed there for several minutes.
Though the ogres – and one elf before them – were dead, Lorian maintained high alert, making everyone mount and continue down the trail still armed. He said that once the sounds of battle had rung out, other nearby ogres would’ve come hot for blood if around, but other things more cunning could now be watching and waiting. All seemed eerily quiet as they advanced to the scene of the initial attack, finding the lead elf’s body.
While the elves tended to the remains, Eric went to talk to Ryan, who stood on the far side of his horse as if wanting to be alone and away from everyone. The rogue patted Ryan’s horse on his way around the back so it wouldn’t get startled and kick him. He’d had enough blunt-force trauma for one day. Stopping next to Ryan, he tried to mute his anger.
“What were you thinking healing that ogre?”
Ryan’s face couldn’t have gotten much longer. “I didn’t want it to die.” When Eric didn’t say anything, the knight added, “Is that so wrong?”
“Well no, not in theory, but when the choice is us or them, then yes. It was already knocked out. You didn’t have to make it recover. I mean, come on, Ryan, that was ridiculous. If it had swung higher and hit my head, I’d be dead.”
Looking at his feet, the knight muttered, “I know. You don’t have to remind me.”
Frustration mounting, the rogue added, “What is it with you anyway? Why are you so afraid of hurting anyone? I mean most people don’t want to, but they can at least be rational about it when something’s trying to kill them. You make such a big deal of out this to the point of letting someone else get hurt anyway, so it’s kind of a moot point, isn’t it?” When the big man just looked away, Eric continued, “Did you hurt someone once or something? Is that it?” Again the knight said nothing, just turning his face away. “That’s it, isn’t it? You act like you’re all traumatized by it or something. Why don’t you just get over it and move on?”
Seeming startled, some fire appeared in Ryan’s eyes as he turned back. “Because he can’t,” Ryan replied before turning his back, “so why should I?”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh yes it does. I almost got killed today over it so I think I’ve just earned the right to know whose life is more important than mine.”
“Would you stop it? It was an accident. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”
“So? I did get hurt. Was you hurting this other guy also an accident? I can’t imagine you doing something on purpose.”
“Thanks.”
Eric wasn’t used to hearing sarcasm from Ryan. That was his domain. But when the knight didn’t answer the question, he repeated it.
Ryan sighed irritably and admitted over his shoulder, “Yes.”
“Okay great. Now we’re getting somewhere. So it was an accident. Why don’t you forgive yourself and forget about it? And get on with your life. And stop letting it cause other accidents?”
“Well what right do I have to get on with my life if he can’t get on with his?” Ryan snapped. He didn’t mention that there was no forgetting about it, not with a daily reminder, but he didn’t want to let on too much. He didn’t think he could stand them knowing the truth. It was better to let them wonder at his preoccupations – even if they thought less of him for it – than to see their knowing eyes on him all the time.
“Why, is he dead?” Eric asked.
“No, he’s not dead,” Ryan answered in annoyance.
“Then what? Paraly–” Eric stopped in mid word. It made all the sense in the world and he didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it before.
Ryan had stiffened and silence hung heavy in the air. Suddenly the rogue realized that everyone was listening to their conversation.
“Was it Daniel?” Eric asked quietly. Ryan turned his head away again, fists and jaw clenched. In the silence, Eric asked more pointedly, “Did you paralyze Daniel?”
He didn’t mean it to sound like an accusation, but Ryan now whirled around, his face turning red with fury. He visibly struggled for words before finally responding.
“Yes!” he shouted. “It was Daniel, all right? I paralyzed my brother, God damn it. Is that what you wanted to know? Does that make you happy? I’m the one who put him in that fucking wheelchair for the rest of his life. I was the one who was fucking around and knocked him off the trampoline. It was me, God damn it!”
Eric was suddenly aware of Ryan’s size, having seen big, angry men take out trained martial artists before. If he’d known his questions would lead
to this revelation, he’d have gone about it differently. Now he tried to defuse the situation. “It was an accident,” he started.
“So? What difference does that make? He’s still paralyzed.”
“Intent matters, and you know it does. It’s why I’m not mad at you for healing the ogre desp–”
“Oh really? You sure sounded mad a minute ago. Don’t you fucking pity me, God damn it. I don’t need that shit from you.”
Eric opened his mouth to reply but Anna’s hand on his arm stopped him.
“Ryan,” she started quietly.
He glanced at her. “Oh what do you want?”
She bit her lip. “To see you happy.”
He seemed to swallow a retort before thinking of something else to say. “Good, then you can learn how to heal by magic or whatever it is, and when we get back home you can fix Daniel. That will make me happy, and nothing else.”
Politely, she responded, “You know I’m going to try for your sake as much as your brother’s, but you should prepare for the possibility that it won’t work and find a way to accept what’s happened. Otherwise you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life. Is that really what you want?”
“As a matter of fact, it is,” he said snidely. “Why do I deserve to be happy when Daniel isn’t?”
“Why are you so sure he’s unhappy?”
“How can he not be?” Ryan interrupted incredulously.
“He’s moved on with his life, adapted to the injury, and found a purpose, just like everyone else does with their lives. He finished college, got a job, and has a life, but you quit school, won’t work, and you won’t do anything with your life so you’re available to him all the time. That’s great in spirit, but he doesn’t need or even want that. He wants you to live your life, too, but you’re the one who’s held back by what happened.”
He glared at her, wanting this conversation to end. “Well you’re going to fix that by healing him, and since you’re all so determined to help, I expect to see everyone doing just that.”
The Dragon Gate (The Dragon Gate Series Book 1) Page 16
