by A W Hartoin
“I should be outside.”
Daiki stopped short, and Bentha bumped into a wall. “We’re not asking your opinion, Matilda. You have great abilities, it’s true, but you don’t always see all the angles.” A muscle twitched in his jaw and he fell silent.
“Fine,” I said.
They carried me through the stronghold past the war room and up to the private quarters. In my room, the books were still piled on the floor. The Art of War was right on top and after they’d laid me on the silk pillows, Daiki handed it to me, along with another book I hadn’t noticed before. Stages of Meditation by the Dalai Lama.
“A favorite of mine,” said Daiki. “To focus your fiery nature.”
“I have plenty of focus and it’s all right on my leg.” I looked down at the horen arm tied to my leg and knew that even after they removed it I’d always feel it there. A reminder of a costly mistake.
“Bentha, summon Gilles. No one else will do,” said Daiki.
Bentha nodded and hesitated. “We could not put you outside for good reason, my lady. You are a target and best concealed.”
Then Bentha left, and a second later Soren appeared in the doorway. He observed me quietly as Daiki stood taut. Then Soren walked in, each footstep painfully slow. He and Bentha were so much alike in build, but Bentha was as fast as Soren was slow.
I expected him to come to my side, to take my hand, something. But he kept his distance. He probably would’ve avoided looking at me altogether if I’d been able to understand him without reading his lips.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I’m okay. It’s really not a big deal.”
“The horen have targeted you.”
“It was bound to happen.”
Soren’s eyes flashed with anger. “It was not. If you’d listened. If you’d stayed home.”
I inhaled and bit my lip. I’d never had a harsh word from Soren before. I didn’t know he was capable of it, being as patient and kind as he was.
Daiki stepped forward. “Soren, I believe the battle was inevitable. The spriggans have been looking for an excuse.”
“And Matilda gave them one,” said Soren, his face hard. “Leave us.”
Daiki bowed and left. Soren paced in Daiki’s place, except that it took forever for him to cross the room. If he was going to let me have it, I wished he’d just get on with it.
Finally, he stopped and faced me. “I don’t blame you.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Bentha rushed in with Gilles behind him. When they saw Soren’s face, they hesitated, but then passed him to kneel next to my leg.
“I’m amazed you’re conscious,” said Gilles. “Not many would’ve survived this.”
He produced a pair of silver scissors and cut the cloth between my leg and the horen’s arm. He peeled back the fabric and a sickly stink filled the room. Everyone covered their noses, except Gilles, who didn’t even seem to notice.
“Very good,” he said. “Esmee did well.”
“It smells terrible,” I said. “What is that?”
“The effects of the horen’s venom combined with Esmee’s treatment. It smells bad, but in actuality it just means it’s working. You were lucky. If Bentha hadn’t severed the arm, you’d definitely be dead. Honestly, I’m not sure why you’re not anyway, considering the dose you got. The putrefaction is minimal.”
“Did you say putrefaction?”
“Don’t think about it.”
“Easy for you to say. It’s not your ankle.”
He moved the arm and I gasped. My vision went white and then Soren was at my side, holding my hand. I clung to him, squeezing the paint right off.
“I’m sorry,” I said, between pants. “I’ll listen better next time.”
“There will not be a next time if I can help it.”
Gilles bent low and looked at the claws sticking through my ankle. He leaned back and searched the bags at his waist. He pulled out a vial of clear liquid and filled a dropper for me. “This will dull the pain.”
“White willow?” I asked after I’d swallowed four drops.
“Among other things. Too bad I’ll have to clip the claws. It’d be better to keep the arm intact.”
“Better for what?”
“Distillation. I plan on making the most of this opportunity,” said Gilles, rubbing his hands together. “Come in, Laurent.”
A galen came through the doorway, carrying a large colorful bag. He was younger than both Gilles and Esmee. His very short hair moved in waves that were quite soothing to the eye.
“Hand me the clips,” said Gilles.
Laurent gave him a pair of short, blunted clippers. Gilles slid a thick cloth under my leg, fitted the clippers around a claw, and then squeezed. The claw popped off and spewed clear blood onto the cloth. The white willow was working well and I hardly felt it. The embedded claws were another story. Gilles had to dig them out one by one. There wasn’t enough white willow in the world to dull the pain. Gilles dosed me with something else, and I swore that the next time someone told me to stay invisible, I would no matter what.
“Soren, how’s Esmee?” I asked, aware that my words were beginning to slur from the medication.
“She’ll recover.”
“Are you still angry with her?”
“Angry isn’t the right word.”
“She saved me, if that helps.”
Whatever answer Soren gave was lost to me as Gilles worked, and I drifted away.
When I came back to myself, Iris was there. In her hands was Horc’s letter and she was beginning to unfold it.
“Give me that!” I sat up and snatched it out of her hands.
Iris reddened. “What is it?”
“Nothing for you. Where is everyone?”
“There’s a conference in the war room.”
“Help me up.”
“You’re supposed to let your leg heal.”
My leg was swathed in thick bandages from knee to toe. The sweet smell was mostly gone as was the pain and nausea. “I want to know what they’re doing.”
“Me, too,” said Gerald, coming into the room. “A warrior should be involved in all important counsels.”
“What warrior?” asked Iris. “You’re nine.”
“Daiki was a warrior at birth.”
“He’s a katana. It’s not the same. You’re good at math.”
“I’m good at everything. Tell her, Matilda. Tell her what Farue said about me.”
“Help me up, Mr. Big Head,” I said.
“Not until you tell.”
“He said you were spindly. Happy? Help me up.”
“He said I was there when they needed me,” said Gerald, throwing out his thin chest.
“That doesn’t mean you’re a warrior,” said Iris.
“Yes, it does.”
Gerald and Iris went back and forth while I rolled off the pillows and used the tansu to pull myself to my feet. I’d hopped halfway to the door before they noticed me.
“Hey. Wait for us,” said Gerald.
“You better take this.” Iris handed me the emerald earring and I used it as a giant cane.
I felt in my pocket and the kaki persimmon root was still there. “How long was I out?”
“Only an hour. Why?” asked Gerald.
“According to Esmee, Miss Penrose doesn’t have much time. We have to get home. No. That’s not right. We have to get to the great healer of the galen.”
“What for? We have the root. Let’s just go home,” said Iris.
“The root isn’t the real cure. It will only treat her symptoms.”
“Who told you that?”
“Never mind. Help me go faster.” I put my hand on Iris’s shoulder for support and hobbled down the hall at a pretty good clip.
“What’s that smell?” asked Gerald.
“Disgusting,” said Iris. “It might actually be worse than a spriggan.”
“It must be my leg. Gilles said it was a good thi
ng.”
“That’s hard to believe,” said Gerald, taking a good sniff. “But it isn’t your leg now.”
Iris cocked her head to the left and listened. “Gilles is making a potion. Ewww. I think he’s using the horen arm.”
“That’s awesome.” Gerald ran down the hall toward the greater stink.
“Don’t mind me!” I yelled. “I’m only disabled here.”
Iris and I continued down the hall and were about to turn left to the war room when Gerald popped his head out of a doorway. “Check this out.”
Some things are irresistible. Gerald’s gleeful nine-year-old face poking out of a doorway surrounded by tendrils of golden smoke is one of them. I had to see, even though there was a good chance I’d be going straight back to nausea land.
I hopped toward the door with Iris protesting the whole time. Gerald stepped back and I got the picture. Gilles stood beside a large cauldron, stirring it with part of a paperclip. The golden smoke turned into a thick haze inside the room. Gilles’ hair wasn’t moving. It stood straight up, spiky and angry looking.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Concocting a remedy for horen venom. An antidote can only be made out of a piece of horen, so you can imagine how rare it is. Go back to bed. I’ll give you a dose when it’s ready.”
I peeked over the edge of the cauldron and instantly wished I hadn’t. The arm was in there, swirling around in a vibrant green goo. The flesh was all gone and it was a skeleton arm with claws clinking against the side. Bits of meat bobbed around and turned my stomach. Iris went to look and I held her back.
“What does it look like?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know.”
A group of wzlot barged in behind us and filled up the small room.
“What do you think you’re doing, Gilles?” asked Alesky.
“My job. Aren’t you supposed to be guarding the perimeter?” asked Gilles.
“It’s a good thing I’m not. Soren didn’t give you leave to use the arm.”
“As a healer, it’s my duty to prepare medications.”
“No one told you to.”
“I wasn’t aware that I needed permission,” said Gilles.
“You know quite well that arm could be put to better use,” said Alesky.
“What’s better than an antidote for horen venom?” asked Gerald.
Alesky smiled. “Weaponry, that’s what. We could turn that arm into explosives just as fast as medicine.”
Gilles opened a small velvet bag and measured a white powder with a small spoon.
“Don’t you put that in there, Gilles,” said Alesky. “You could ruin it.”
“The galen are neutral. We don’t serve you. We serve the wounded. The arm is mine and must be used for good.”
“Anatol, get Soren,” said Alesky. “Tell him Gilles is about to ruin the greatest weapon we’ll ever have.”
“To use against the spriggans, I assume?” asked Gilles, his face oddly indistinct in the golden mist that flowed around him.
“I suppose you think we should offer peace at any price.”
“My concern, my only concern, is the ill and wounded. Matilda and Iris were lucky. I doubt such good fortune will happen again.” Gilles moved to drop the white powder in the cauldron. Alesky knocked his hand away and the powder went flying. I put my hand up and stepped forward. I put weight on my injured leg and crumpled to the floor, writhing in pain.
“See what you did,” said Alesky, pointing at me.
Gilles knelt by my side. “You must go back to bed.”
I used the earring and pulled myself upright. “I have to get to the galen great healer. Is it you?”
Gilles shook his head. “I’m not nearly so gifted. Why do you want the great healer?”
“I got the kaki persimmon root, but I understand it won’t be enough to heal my teacher.”
Alesky wrenched Gilles away from me and shoved him toward the door.
Lrag came into the room, followed by Bentha. They caught Gilles before he fell.
“What’s going on here?” asked Lrag.
“Gilles is stealing the arm,” said Alesky.
“I’m making the horen antidote. Matilda will need it to heal properly.”
“Matilda is a warrior. She knows its real value,” said Alesky.
I held onto Iris and poked Alesky in the chest with my earring, hard. “Don’t tell them what I know.”
Alesky looked stunned. “Matilda, we have the chance to devastate the spriggans. You must agree with me.”
“If you knew me better, you’d know I must do nothing.”
“My lady is a fierce creature indeed,” said Bentha.
“We told Soren you wouldn’t be lying on pillows for long,” said Lrag. “Let me help you.”
I waved his big red hand away and told him I was fine, but the room was swimming and the pain unspeakable.
“I demand that Gilles stay away from that cauldron,” said Alesky. “The arm doesn’t belong to him. He can’t just make medicine out of it,”
“I removed it from Matilda’s ankle, so by rights it is mine,” said Gilles.
“That arm was attached to me,” I said as I swayed. “I had the pain of it. No one has any more rights than me.”
“Soren shall decide,” said Bentha with a wink.
That knowing wink soothed me. Soren would make it right. His calmness and peaceful nature would speak to the situation.
“We must get you back to your chamber,” said Bentha. “You are weakening.”
“I’m not going back. I’m leaving. Gilles was just going to tell me where the great healer is.”
Gilles examined my leg. “You’re going nowhere. You’ve bled through your bandages. The stitches haven’t held. You must rest.”
“Did Esmee tell you about Miss Penrose?” I asked.
He nodded. “She did. And I agree with her assessment, but you aren’t going anywhere. We’ll have to send the root home without you.”
Soren came in, flanked by Farue and Daiki. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Matilda must leave immediately.”
“It’s my medical opinion that she’s too weak and must wait two or three days to regain her strength,” said Gilles.
“Miss Penrose can’t wait that long. Mom and Eunice must be going crazy. We have to get home,” I said.
“It’s imperative that Matilda leaves before there’s another attack,” said Soren.
“She can’t fly in this condition and she doesn’t have her fire,” said Gilles.
I inhaled sharply and everyone looked at me.
“Your fire’s gone?” asked Iris.
“I don’t think so.” I held out my free hand and Lrag wrapped his arm around my waist, supporting me completely. Nothing happened. I couldn’t even muster a spark. It was the emptiest feeling, like being homesick but not for a place, for yourself.
“How did you know?” I asked.
Gilles brushed tears from my cheeks. “You don’t realize how bad horen venom is. It’s weakened you to the point that you don’t have enough strength to produce fire, something that is second nature to you. That tells me that the dose you got probably would’ve killed anyone else in this room.”
“Why didn’t it kill me?”
“I don’t know. It merits further study. Perhaps your fire has something to do with it.”
“Will it come back?”
“It should when you’re healed, which is why you shouldn’t be moved. It will delay the process and you need your fire.”
“Normally, I would never go against your advice, Gilles,” said Soren. “But the spriggan allies are massing at the northern border, led by a one-armed horen. The thought is that they’re going to come after Matilda now when she’s known to be weak. She must leave the mall.”
“The spriggan allies are massing, but not the spriggans?” asked Bentha.
“Yes. It looks like there’s dissension in the ranks. The horen killed many more spriggans tha
n any other species with his essence. The spriggans aren’t happy about it.”
“Now is the time to strike,” said Alesky, pointing to the cauldron. “We have enough material to destroy the spriggan stronghold and allies in one go.”
“No,” said Iris, red-faced and trembling to be speaking so strongly to grown fairies. “Matilda needs that medicine. You can’t.”
Soren came to me with his high steps and looked into my eyes. “Matilda will survive without the antidote. Will she not?”
If Gilles answered, I didn’t hear it.
“Soren,” I said. “Alesky wants to kill all the spriggans. He wants to wipe them out.”
“I understand what he wants and I understand my position in the counsel. We are at war. I must end it sooner rather than later.”
“Soren, there are children in the stronghold. That’s not your way. That’s not you.”
“It seems we are all changing. You told me you had to do what was right. Now I must do the same.”
I pictured Krust, Horc’s brother, being blown apart with something that came from me and my mistake. Krust was right. Not all spriggans were alike. How many more Horcs were there? How many more could live a better life, if given the chance?
“It’s not right. You can’t.”
“She just wants the antidote, Soren,” said Alesky. “I don’t blame her. She’s in a lot of pain, but this is for the greater good.”
Gilles darted toward the cauldron. Anatol and two other wzlot blocked his path and pushed him back.
“I agree reluctantly, Alesky. It’s time for hard choices. Remove Gilles and we will start the process,” said Soren, his face increasingly tired and strained.
“Soren,” said Gilles. “Think about this. The spriggans aren’t massing.”
“But they will,” said Alesky.
“You don’t know that. When Matilda is gone, everything will calm down.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know hatred and fear never make a good decision,” said Gilles.
Soren rubbed the paint away on his forehead. “Alesky, take Gilles out to the wounded. I’m sure he is needed badly.”
Gilles shook off Anatol’s hand and came back to me. “You must take care. You’re very weak. The great healer is in the History Museum. She will help you.” Then he hugged me and slipped a small bag and spoon into my hand.
