by Bryan Davis
Listener’s companion landed on her forehead and dimmed further. Billy looked at Sir Patrick. Their gazes met. As the old former dragon pressed his hands together, Billy nodded. The prayer posture. Doctor or no doctor, Listener’s only real hope lay in the hands of a higher power.
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Ashley said. “My hands aren’t sealing the leaks like they were before.”
“What’s going on?” Walter asked, still lying on his cot.
His throat tightening, Billy could barely talk. “Bleeding,” was all he could manage.
“Patrick!” Ashley barked. “Hang another bag!”
While Patrick hurried through the procedure, Billy let his gaze wander over to Semiramis. She stared back at him, still sad, still as innocent looking as a lamb.
“May I speak?” she called in a quiet voice.
Billy nodded. “I guess that won’t hurt.”
“My words were proven true. The garden energized, and you have a doctor.”
“We don’t know why that happened,” Billy said. “Maybe it was the ring. Maybe not.”
“In any case, please allow me to offer my assistance. I am skilled in many arts.”
“What kind of assistance?”
“When Steadfast worked on my son, I noticed that the doctor who was once here was a mistress of exotic potions, and I am familiar with her craft.”
Billy turned to Ashley. “Did you hear that?”
The sweat-dampened bandana over her brow slid higher as she nodded. “We’re already using Angel’s clotting factor.”
“I assumed so,” Semiramis said. “I saw it on the table earlier. There is another potion I thought she might have, but I did not see it.”
“What does it do?” Billy asked.
“It will slow Listener’s functions, including her heart, until she will be near death, though still safely in the grip of life. While her bleeding is slower, you can repair her body.”
Dr. Conner looked up at Ashley. “A chemically induced coma?”
“Sounds like it.” Now breathing rapidly, Ashley shot Semiramis a suspicious stare. “What’s in it? Tell me quick!”
“Ingredients with which you would not be familiar.”
Sir Patrick’s voice pierced the tense air. “Blood pressure has dropped. Seventy over thirty-five.”
“I can’t seal it!” Ashley cried. “My touch isn’t doing anything!”
Dr. Conner lurched toward the table. “Sutures!”
While they scrambled, Semiramis pushed against the wall and struggled to her feet. “Untie me!” she shouted, extending her bound hands. “I can help you!”
His sword hand covered with blood, Billy set his fingers just above Excalibur’s hilt. Should he release her? Would she really help, or would she brew poison?
The sound of metal sliding on metal made Billy twist toward his scabbard. Walter stood next to him, holding Excalibur in both hands. “There really isn’t any choice, is there?” Walter stalked toward Semiramis. Although he staggered a bit, his path was straight and true. With a deft swipe, he cut through the rope, and the pieces fell to the floor.
While Ashley and Dr. Conner continued working frantically, volleying sharp commands back and forth, Semiramis massaged her wrists and turned to Mantika and her sons. “Dwellers of Second Eden. I will need narla root, sempian bark, and one drop of venom from a cave spider. The other ingredients are already here.”
Candle pointed at himself. “I know a burrow where two cave spiders live.”
Windor nodded. “I get root and bark.”
Tossing aside the pile of cots in front of the door, Candle and Windor dashed outside. As a snow-filled draft rushed through, Mantika quickly shut the door.
The hanging lanterns stirred, troubling the light over Listener and her surgeons. Ashley looked up at the swinging ropes. “Somebody stop those things! I can’t see!”
“Sixty-five over thirty-five,” Patrick announced.
Billy grabbed Excalibur from Walter. He slid a cot close to the surgery table, stood on it, and reached the sword toward the ceiling. As he touched the ropes one at a time, he looked down at the steadying light. From this perspective, Listener’s pale body seemed small and faraway, yet the hole in her chest seemed cavernous as blood flowed over the four frantic hands. Her companion wobbled as if ready to fall.
Semiramis marched to the potions table, slid a wide-mouthed jar to the front, and, one by one, picked up small glass bottles filled with crushed red, green, or brown leaves. “Yes, the other ingredients are here.” She looked up at Billy. “This potion must be heated. Where can I find a fire?”
He jumped down from the cot and slid it out of the way. “I’ve got that covered. Just say the word.”
Windor burst in. In one hand he carried two thick wet roots, still covered with dirt. In the other, he clutched a hunk of green bark and a serrated knife. “Covered with snow,” he said. “But Windor find.”
Mantika immediately closed the door. The lanterns swayed, but only a little. Her dark face taut and her eyes wide, she pointed at the ingredients table. “Roots need skin peeled.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Semiramis said. “Bring them here.”
As Windor dropped the ingredients on the table, Candle hurried in, his dreadlocks flying. He lifted a gray spider between his thumb and forefinger. Its wiggling legs spread out as wide as his hand. “I got him!”
“Hurry it over here before it bites you!” Semiramis reached for Windor’s knife. “I have to draw out the spider’s poison.”
Windor pulled it away and looked at Billy, his brow arching. “Windor give?”
“Sixty-five over thirty!” Patrick announced.
Ashley called from the surgical cot. “Get that potion! We’re losing her!” Her voice seemed strained, weaker. Listener’s companion toppled from her forehead and fell to the cot.
Raising Excalibur, Billy nodded. “Go ahead.”
Semiramis glared at him. “Your faith in me is so inspiring.”
“Just get the potion done. If it works, I’ll be the first to apologize.”
Chapter 17
A Potion from Poison
Windor extended the knife. Still glowering at Billy, Semiramis snatched it and drove the blade through the spider’s head, pinning it to the table. Dark blood oozed from underneath and inched along the wood grain. A blue stream, bright and sparkling, added to the flow, but the two colors stayed unmixed. She freed the knife and, using the tip of the blade, picked up a drop of the blue liquid and let it fall into a jar.
Her hands zipping from the ingredients to a mortar and pestle to a bottle of water, Semiramis seemed to be a woman possessed. As her hair fell in front of her eyes, she just blew it back and kept working. In less than a minute, she presented Billy with a glass jar containing about half an inch of brown liquid at the bottom. “Heat it until it turns green.”
Billy pulled a glove from his pocket and put it on. Holding the jar by its top, he blew a stream of fire just under the glass base. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then tiny bubbles formed on the surface and began popping, releasing a brown gas that rose over the brim and dribbled to the floor.
“Give me an update!” Ashley wiped her sleeve across her brow. “I think the invigorating potion is losing steam. I’m not going to last much longer.”
“I see green!” Billy shouted. “It won’t be long.”
Semiramis grabbed the jar. “It’s enough!”
“Wait. That jar has to be as hot as—”
“I know!” Stirring the concoction with a tongue depressor, Semiramis rushed to Ashley’s side. “Drinking it is too dangerous and slow. You must rub it directly into her heart.”
Ashley looked at Dr. Conner, alarm blazing on her face. “Doc?”
“Just do it. She’s a goner if we don’t try something.”
Turning away from Listener, Ashley extended a bloody palm. “Pour some on.”
“It will sting like no wasp you have ever felt.” Semiramis h
eld Ashley’s wrist and tipped the jar just enough to let a trickle of greenish sludge fall.
When it touched her skin, Ashley cringed but made no sound. Coffee-colored fumes rose from her hands, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She gasped for breath. Sweat poured. “I’m … I’m all right. It’s not really that hot. It’s just having a weird effect on me.”
“It’s slowing your metabolism,” Semiramis said. When a small pool had formed in Ashley’s palm, Semiramis pulled the jar upright. “Now, massage it in. Hurry.”
Ashley turned back to Listener, let the potion drip onto the exposed heart, and massaged it in with her other hand. After a few seconds, she looked up at Dr. Conner. “It’s slowing down.”
“I see that. So is the bleeding.”
“That’s enough.” Semiramis pulled Ashley’s hand back. “Too much will kill her.”
Ashley staggered backwards, but Patrick caught her before she fell. “I’m so dizzy.”
Walter jumped up. “Ashley!”
“She is not in danger,” Semiramis said, “but she must rest.”
Ashley stared at her, her eyes wide and glazed. “Your mind is unguarded. I sense … I sense … murder.” Her head lolled to one side, and her eyes closed.
“Take her, Walter,” Patrick said. “I must return to my suction duties.”
As Walter eased Ashley to the floor, Billy pressed Excalibur’s tip close to Semiramis’s throat. “What did you do to her?”
Her eyes riveted on the blade, she swallowed. “I assure you, gracious knight. This is a natural result of the potion in concert with her exhausted condition. The invigorating elixir is wearing off, and she absorbed some of my potion. She has merely passed into a swoon.”
He set the point against her skin and growled. “She said she sensed murder.”
“Please forgive my indiscretion and the weakness of a mother’s protective instincts. I sorely wish to kill Arramos to avenge what he did to my son. Surely this is what Ashley detected.”
“Her heart is down to ten beats per minute,” Dr. Conner said, “but the bleeding’s almost stopped. I can sew up the worst hole now.”
“As you can see,” Semiramis continued, “my potion is working. I have no intent to hurt anyone in this village, especially an innocent little girl.”
Billy pulled the sword away and nodded at Candle. “You and Windor tie her up again. I’ll go out and speak to Valiant and Elam.”
“I willingly submit to your authority.” Semiramis pressed her wrists together. “I am trustworthy. You will see.”
As Candle led her to the corner, Billy shoved Excalibur back in place. “How’s she doing, Doc?”
“Whatever that potion was, it has done much more than simply slow Listener’s bodily functions. If I may venture a guess, that potion absorbed some of Ashley’s healing characteristics, her photoreceptors, and her heart is pumping them throughout her body. It’s as if the wounds are sealing themselves.”
“Her diastolic pressure has stabilized,” Patrick said. “With the slow heart rate, her systolic is difficult to measure, but I believe it, too, has stabilized.”
Walter piped up from the floor where he cradled Ashley. “Her palm’s bleeding. I’ll bet her blood mixed in with that potion.”
“Is she all right?” Billy asked.
“I think so. She’s breathing okay. Knocked out cold, though.”
Candle tapped on Billy’s shoulder. “We tied up Semiramis. Windor showed me a new knot. She’ll never get loose.”
“Thank you.” Billy unhooked his scabbard and gave it to Candle. “Keep an eye on her. I’m going out to talk to Elam.”
As he reached for the door, Semiramis called from the corner. “Son of Clefspeare!”
He turned toward her. “Yes?”
With her eyes reflecting the lantern light and her voice calm and soothing, she seemed more like a storybook muse than a woman. “I have saved the little girl’s life. If she and Ashley arise from their slumbers, I will await the apology you promised.”
Billy looked at her for a long moment. Turmoil swam through his mind. There were just too many conflicting signs, too many hard decisions to make. Figuring out if this strange woman was truthful seemed impossible. First she seemed in league with the Nephilim, and now she breathed murderous threats against Arramos right after working so hard to save the life of someone who couldn’t help her in the slightest.
He looked back at Listener. Her companion again perched on her forehead, but it was still dim.
Finally, Billy nodded. “We’ll see very soon, won’t we?” He opened the door, stepped outside, and shut it behind him. After taking two steps to the edge of the wooden walkway, he stopped and scanned the area.
Illuminated by lanterns at each side of the street, Valiant stood at the center of a throng of seated villagers, his hands uplifted as he paced back and forth in the midst of falling snow. Wearing a fur cap that covered his ears but not the dark curly hair that protruded from underneath, and a thick forest green cloak that fell to his knees and fanned out as he walked, he looked like a warlord exhorting the troops. Yet, his words said otherwise. Though his voice resonated in a rich baritone that demanded attention, and his companion’s light flashed in cadence with his rhythm, each syllable carried the flavor of entreaty rather than the bark of command.
“Father of Lights, now that each man, woman, and child has lifted up cries for a miracle, songs begging for deliverance, and lamentations for this precious girl, this selfless little lamb, I add my final appeal.”
He paused for a moment and swung back to pace the other way. As murmurs of “Hear him” mixed in with the whistling breeze, he continued. “Listener is a precious flower. Though she sprouted from our garden soil weak and fragile, mute and masked in scaly skin, we loved her. For no child in this world is ever considered of lesser value than any other. We have heard from our visitors that people in the world she came from cast away unwanted children, even butchering them more savagely than they would a murderer or a dog. So you sent her to us, and we have cared for her, this daisy, this rose of suffering, and she carried within her frail shell a heart of fire, proven by her willingness to suffer and die for the deliverance of others.”
Again he paused and turned. Billy wanted to shout out, “Listener’s recovering!” but the news was premature. It was still touch and go, and besides, interrupting a prayer like this seemed irreverent.
He spotted Elam across the street walking his way around the perimeter of the circle. With snow capping his black hood and a slight bend in his slow gait, he looked like a gray-haired old man trying to cross a slippery street.
Valiant glanced at Billy. Heaving a sigh that blew out in a stream of bright white, he continued. “Perhaps even now the struggle in that hut is over. Perhaps you have touched her with your healing power or provided the skills necessary to heal our little flower. Or perhaps you have decided to take her to your heavenly home and leave us bereft of the beauty and joy she has brought to our world. Whatever your decision, we will never forsake the love that you have called us to give to you and to our neighbors. For it is love that courses through our souls as blood courses through our veins, and by that love we will survive and carry on your work in this land.” He clasped his hands together and shouted, “Father of Lights, hear our prayer!”
Young and old, the crowd echoed his call. “Father of Lights, hear our prayer!” Companions flashed all around, like twinkling blue lights in a Christmas display.
Valiant turned and walked slowly toward Billy, weaving past the villagers who were now rising. Elam arrived at the sidewalk first and, hugging his dampened cloak close to his body, whispered, “Any word?”
Billy clutched Elam’s arm and moved him under the protection of the roof’s overhang. “Let’s wait for Valiant.” Rising to tiptoes, he scanned the heads in the crowd for Rebekah’s blond locks. “Are Rebekah and Dallas here?”
Elam shook his head. “We decided to let them transform while there was still some
energy in the bones of Makaidos. They are now Legossi and Firedda, and they are at the garden with the other dragons.”
“Excellent. Where is Acacia?”
“At her hut. Asleep, probably.”
“All for the best.” Billy imagined the dragons huddling in the snowy garden. How would they stay warm? Could the villagers build shelters for them?
Valiant jumped up to the walk. “How is our little flower?”
“Still alive,” Billy said, “but barely. Semiramis concocted a potion that—”
“Semiramis!” Elam’s voice spiked. “You let her loose? You let her brew a potion?”
“Calm down. It looks like it worked. Listener was about to die, and Semiramis said she could help. What was I supposed to do?”
Valiant clapped Billy on the shoulder. “A wise decision. Choosing a potential danger over certain death was your only option.”
Elam gave a nod of surrender. “Okay. If she’s decided to help us, I guess we can accept it, but I won’t believe it’s not for her own benefit until proven otherwise.”
“Same here,” Billy said. “Apparently handling the potion knocked Ashley out, or at least aggravated her exhaustion, so that’s more than suspicious. And another strange thing. Just before Ashley conked out, she got an impression from Semiramis’s mind, something about murder. Semiramis claimed that she wanted to kill Arramos because of what he did to Hunter, but I’m not sure I’m buying that story yet.”
“A reasonable concern,” Valiant said. “For we now also suspect Hunter is not genuine. He no longer has a companion, and no Second Edener can be separated from his companion without immediate sickness and eventual death.”
“And he shows no signs?” Elam asked.
“He seemed healthy for a while, but after one of our little boys mentioned that he should be ill, Hunter began complaining of nausea and dizziness.”
Billy rolled his eyes. “How convenient.”
“Indeed. We would not let him go into the medical hut to see his mother. He is now at Cliffside’s hut with Cliffside guarding him.”
“What about the companion?” Billy asked. “Any sign of it?”
