Dragon (A Histories of Purga Novel)

“Keiara,” Asher pleaded. “I didn’t mean we had to investigate it.”

“I thought you were listening,” Keiara replied, throwing him a smile. “Sometimes, you have to follow your curiosity.”

Asher stifled his anger and followed after his sister.

Keiara honed in on the glint with single-minded stubbornness. She disregarded Asher’s warning. She disregarded the fact that whatever it was, it might be dangerous. The only thing she cared about was a new adventure.

They got to the foot of a large sand dune and stopped. Whatever the moonlight was glinting off of, it was half-buried at its top.

Keiara never hesitated. She climbed up there as fast as she could, a rushing excitement filling her. She left Asher behind, whose adventure quota for the day was met as soon as his foot hit the desert.

Instead, he watched her climb up there. She was lithe and graceful, but the sand was treacherous. Her feet kept slipping and at one point, he thought she was going to tumble. She never did, though. She kept her balance and kept right on climbing.

Pretty soon she was digging in the sand.

After only a couple seconds, she fell back with a little scream. Her hand was over her mouth and her eyes were wide.

Without so much as a thought, Asher ran up that sand dune as fast as he could, trying to get to Keiara before whatever was buried in the sand could attack her. What he found when he got there surprised him so much that he nearly fell on top of her.

It was a boy that looked like he was roughly the same age as his sister.

Keiara had him nearly uncovered. There was some sand still covering his stomach and chest but his head, arms, and legs were free.

“Who is that?” Asher asked. “Is he still alive?”

“I don’t know,” Keiara replied, her voice wavering with nervousness. She bent forward and was about to touch two fingers to his throat.

“Stop,” Asher hissed, stepping back as if the body had a deadly virus.

Keiara ignored him though.

“We need to know if he’s still alive,” she whispered back. She resumed what she was doing and laid two fingers to his throat, feeling for a pulse. She was so nervous that she missed his carotid artery altogether and had to try again. This time there was no mistaking the strong, steady pulse throbbing in his neck. She breathed a small sigh of relief before she looked at the boy’s broken body and tried to assess his injuries.

“Keiara, stop,” Asher said again, this time with even more force. He was backing away from her, trying to be quiet. His voice was deadly serious as he gazed at her. His eyes jerked to one of the boy’s arms. “Look! He’s a Rook. Leave him.”

Keiara followed his gaze and immediately found what her brother was talking about. There was no mistaking the silver mechpak shining on the boy’s forearm.

“We can’t leave him. He’s hurt,” Keiara tried to explain.

Asher just shook his head. He had to make her see reason.

“He’ll just kill us. You know that,” he said as he adjusted his bow and quiver of arrows on his shoulders. It was a gesture he made whenever he was scared.

“We don’t know that and I am going to help him. Get out of my way, Asher.” She pushed past him.

Keiara’s face tightened and her brows furrowed together as she looked over the Rook. She pressed her hands onto his body and felt around, even opening his shirt and looking for any obvious wounds. She looked down at his left leg and gasped slightly. The cloth there was a singed and ruined mess. She lifted it up, tugging here and there where it had fused onto the skin. When she was finished, she revealed a leg that was a burned wreck. The flesh was cracked and blackened and blood oozed out of the wounds.

“What happened to him?” Asher asked.

“I don’t know,” Keiara said. “But whatever it was, it completely destroyed his lower left leg. I couldn’t feel any broken bones anywhere, thankfully. He’s got some bruising and minor lacerations. There’s a nasty lump on his head and he might have a concussion. There’s no evidence of internal bleeding, but he’s probably going to lose his leg.”

“Just leave him. I’m sure his people will come for him,” Asher told her. He studied the boy. He was dressed in clothes that had obviously been very expensive. His hair was carefully styled into a faux hawk and the crest on the left breast of his suit jacket told Asher that he was somebody important. He was sure that the other Rooks would already be looking for him. So sure, in fact, that he was growing more and more scared by the minute. He could picture it now. A whole hunting party of Rooks was probably on the way at this very moment. “They’re probably going to be here any minute and when they find us, we’ll be killed.”

“No. We won’t,” Keiara retorted. She looked around, taking in the scene. The boy had nearly been covered whole by the sand. That, combined with his reddened cheeks and chapped lips, told her that he’d been in the sand for hours. If the Rooks were going to send a party out for him, then they would’ve found him a long time ago. Since he was still here, she was pretty sure no one was looking for him. “They aren’t coming for him. If they were, they would’ve found him already.”

“They could just not know he’s gone yet,” Asher tried to point out.

“It doesn’t matter. He needs our help now. If we leave him, he’ll die,” Keiara replied, somewhat harshly. She looked at the boy still half-buried in the ground. Beat up as he was, she still found him attractive. She couldn’t describe any one thing in particular that she gravitated to, but if she had to guess, it would’ve been his strong, clearly defined jaw line. A powerful need to help him, to see him well again, surged through her. She had always wanted to help the people around her, but this was different. Something inside her screamed out to help him. She couldn’t ignore it. And she didn’t want to anyway.

She looked at Asher.

“Get help,” she said.

Asher’s mouth opened to protest.

“Now!” she nearly screamed. That inner voice was also telling her that time was short. Whoever he was, he was clearly dehydrated and his body had sustained a massive beating.

Asher flinched away from her. Never in his life had his sister yelled at him. Not once. In fact, he would’ve thought she wasn’t capable of it.

He didn’t say anything else to her, but she saw the hurt in his eyes and it made her sad. She hadn’t meant to be so brutal with him, but the fear growing inside her was too big to ignore.

“Please, Asher,” she pleaded.

The hurt remained, but he slowly nodded. His form suddenly blurred and shifted in front of her. Where Asher had been, a beautiful hawk stood in his place. He ruffled his feathers and then flew off in a flurry, heading back to the forest. She watched him climb higher into the sky until he disappeared into the clouds and mist masking the tops of the monoak trees. His bow and quiver lay on the sand and Keiara pulled them over to her. For whatever reason, the magic of shapeshifting included clothing, but not items. When Asher returned to his human form, he would still be wearing the same clothes.

She turned her attention back to the young man in the sand. She pulled out her canteen, opened the cap and pried his dried lips open. She poured the still-cool liquid into his mouth. It didn’t go down his throat at first. It just overflowed, but then natural reflex kicked in and he started gulping it down.

“Good,” she whispered to him, trying to sound soothing. “That will help.”

He moaned slightly. His eyes fluttered open once and then closed again.

She packed up the canteen, took off her wrap and laid it on the sand. Then she got up and started walking toward the edge of the forest. She found what she needed there pretty quickly. Two thick, sturdy branches that had fallen during some storm or other. She dragged them back to her charge and quickly made a crude sled out of her wrap, the two sticks and some thin vines she’d also scavenged. With quick, sure movements, she got him on it, laid Asher’s bow and arrows on top of him, and then started dragging him behind her. It took a lot longer to reach the edge of the forest than she would’ve liked, but she finally managed it.

She moved toward the tree that led up to Gar’s sentry post. She looked around it until she spied what she needed. A thick vine that blended seamlessly into the tree trunk. She grabbed onto it and yanked as hard as she could.

Nothing happened.

She waited for five minutes and then pulled the vine again.

Loud chittering filtered down to her from above her head. She glanced up and saw a monkey agilely climbing down the huge tree trunk. It moved with scary speed and grace. In a few moments, the monkey landed on the ground next to her. It looked like Fortun, Gar’s monkey, but this one was slightly larger and there wasn’t as much white fur around its face.

“Gar,” Keiara said, smiling.

The monkey’s form shimmered and then Gar stood in front of her. He was barely able to control his anger.

“Keiara,” he said stiffly. “I’ve been watching you and I know what’s going on.” He looked to the silent form on her sled. “Return that filth to the desert where he belongs. There is no help for him from our people.”

Keiara stood stock still, as if he’d slapped her. Despite how fierce he looked, she’d never seen him actually angry before. Then she got hold of herself and glared at him.

“I’ll be the one deciding that, Gar,” Keiara returned, her voice hard and unrelenting. She was angry too. She thought she could count on him for help, but just looking at him and hearing those words was enough to convince her she’d been a fool to even think it. “We are not monsters and I will not allow someone to simply die if I have the means to save them. If you still wish to bar my way, then so be it. I will use the path.”

“Don’t be stupid, girl. He’s the enemy!” Gar shouted at her.

Keiara’s jaw clenched angrily. Her eyes narrowed.

“What I do is not your concern. Now get out of my way.” She went to move but Gar stood firm. “Now!” she yelled.

The seasoned warrior flinched from the sound of her anger.

“You’d best hope this isn’t a mistake, Keiara. You could be putting everyone in danger.” He stood in front of her for a second more and then moved out of her way.

Without further comment, Keiara turned and started dragging the limp body through the dense forest. She found the old path and resolutely started on it, knowing full well that she was in for a very long walk. To make matters worse, the path was barely even there anymore because it was rarely used. The installation of the suspended bridges had made them virtually obsolete.

She had to hack her way through some very thick underbrush with her dagger. It was hard for her and her limbs quickly grew tired but she never stopped. The only breaks she took were to eat and drink and try to force the Rook to drink some water as well. She dragged him all through the night and didn’t quit until a few hours after the sun rose again.

Her hair and face were covered in sweat and her limbs felt like they were going to fall off. She could feel blisters on her palms that had burst and now burned with pain.

I can’t go any further, she thought to herself. Then she fell to one knee, gasping and wanting to force her exhausted body to keep moving but unable to.

She looked up. It was a hard thing to do. Her head felt like a heavy ball attached to her neck, but she managed it.

Directly in front of her was a solid, impassable wall of vegetation. Instead of being depressed, however, she was actually elated and a huge, weary grin lit up her face.

She struggled back to her feet and put a hand to her head as it swam with fatigue. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then walked right at and into the dense wall of growth. The minute she did, the plants, branches, twigs, and leaves which created the wall pulled themselves back and away from Keiara as if she were repelling them.

When she was on the other side, Vitari was there in its entire splendor. She could see the houses suspended in the trees and the merchant huts dotting the ground beneath them in every direction she could think to look. Flowers bloomed and animals dashed through her city-tribe. Birds flew in and around the people and their homes.

She smiled to herself.

Home, she thought. She took a deep breath in through her nose and reveled at the familiar smells.

She started feeling more energized and less tired knowing that she was actually home. She felt nearly rejuvenated.

That changed a second later, however. Since she paused to take a breath, the boy on the sled was still in the magicked tunnel that led through the wall of growth. The second Keiara was past it and only the boy remained, the wall seemed to sense that he was a Rook and reacted violently. The branches stabbed forward, intent on harming him. They twined around his legs and arms.

His eyes suddenly popped open, revealing shocking blue irises. He screamed in obvious agony for a second before he passed out again.

Keiara reacted instinctively. She reached for the sled’s handles and started yanking.

The wall was persistent, though. It latched onto the Rook, not wanting to let go. Every time Keiara gained any ground, the wall would jerk the Rook back.

She planted her feet and gave a titanic effort of will and strength. Slowly, the branches snapped and finally let go.

The Rook broke free and the suddenness of it caused Keiara to stumble and fall. She picked herself up a moment later, resolutely grabbed the sled’s handles again, and started walking in the direction of Heari’s hut, Vitari’s resident healer.

She didn’t get but a couple of feet before she was forced to stop in her tracks.

Twenty or so Terraquois warriors stomped toward her and then stopped in a line in front of her, barring her way. They stood on the finely manicured grass inside the city’s borders. The brush and thickets had been hacked away.

The warriors had all the advantages. Clear, even footing. No hindering bushes or underbrush. No branches smacking them in the face.

She, on the other hand, was still stuck in some of the wilder parts of Vitari. There was no way she could stop them if they wished to take the Rook from her.

She watched a warrior slowly step forward. He was easily the largest one of all twenty. His brawny frame was nearly hairless. His long black hair had four thin braids trailing down each side of his face. At their ends dangled the huge, beautiful feathers of a Roc. Each one was a different, iridescent shade of blue and had been passed down his family line for centuries, from the time his ancient ancestor Carway had helped one of the giant, graceful birds when it had been caught in a net. The Roc had given him four of the big feathers as a gift. Carway had passed them onto his first son and so on and so on down the line. He wore them now as a symbol of his leadership.

He also happened to be Keiara’s father.

His face grew stern and anger flashed in his light brown eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing, Keiara?” the big man asked, his voice rumbling like a thundercloud.

She did not back down, however. She stood firm, her own face stubborn and unyielding.

“He needs our help, father,” she replied. There was no fear in her voice. It came out strong despite how tired she was. “He’s hurt.”

“He’s a Rook,” he replied, as if that explained it all, and for most of her people, it was all they needed.

But Keiara wasn’t like them. The Rook needed her help and she meant to give it to him.

“Tarvo,” one of the warriors said. He was a younger warrior, smaller than her father, with light blonde hair and bright green eyes. It was a rare combination of traits for a Terraquois.

Keiara felt a little wave of relief as he came forward. His name was Niku and they’d been best friends ever since they were young.

If anyone would be on her side, surely it would be Niku.

“We can take him from her. There are many of us and only one of her.” He looked back at Keiara, his eyes filled with disgust.

She stared back at him in stunned silence. Her eyes were wide with shock, but the betrayal she felt was the hardest thing to handle.

“Niku?” She was hurt by his cruel words, but she kept it off her face. Her lips hardened into a thin, straight line and she glared at her former friend fiercely. “Why?”

He stared at her in a nearly identical expression of bewildered shock mixed with betrayal.

“You dare ask?” He was nearly breathless. He walked over to her, the tendons in his neck stretched taut as he clenched his teeth angrily. When he was a foot or two away from her, he pointed an accusatory finger at the unconscious young man on the stretcher. “His kind has killed more of our people than anything else. They are destroyers and murderers and you dare bring him here? To our home?”

Again, she didn’t back down. She refused to feel even an iota of guilt over this. She knew what she was doing was right. She knew it somewhere deep in her soul.

“What would you have me do, Niku?” she asked. “Would you have me leave him in the Javardi to die? A painful one, too? The more he suffers the better, right?”

“Yes,” Niku shot back, without hesitation.

“Then we are no better than them,” she responded loudly. “Our two races have been fighting for centuries. Centuries! Do you have any idea how much needless blood has been shed over it? And here is an opportunity to show them that we are not the monsters they think us to be and for us to learn more about them. Why waste such an opportunity, Niku? Father? All of you?”

She turned her gaze to the big man. He held it for a moment before the fire in her eyes caused him to turn away.

“Can you imagine how things could be if the war finally ended? If there was peace on Purga?” She carefully laid the stretcher down and looked at all of the warriors. Her gaze rose to the branches above, where she could faintly see more of her people gathering to watch the odd spectacle on the ground. “This man, this Rook, can learn from us as we learn from him. For all you know, he can be our salvation and we can be theirs.”

There was silence as she finished. Niku still looked at her with betrayal in his eyes, but her father’s anger had seemed to die down. His eyes turned thoughtful and a blossom of hope surged inside Keiara.

There was undoubted power in her words. Tarvo didn’t want to admit it but he also couldn’t deny it. He turned to his warriors and the curious onlookers.

“My daughter is right!” he yelled, his booming voice carrying easily to everyone who wanted to listen. “She may have been wrong in bringing him here, but she is right. We are not the Rooks! We are not monsters! I refuse to give them that satisfaction! I refuse to let them be right about us! So it is my decree that we nurse the Rook back to health and release him to his people. Then, his fate will be in his own hands. No harm shall come to him. That is my personal order.”

Niku shot a murderous look at the Rook and then Keiara. He stalked off to the ladder that lead to his home and clambered up it swiftly. In moments, he disappeared from view.

The other warriors disbanded, leaving the forest floor empty except for Keiara, the Rook, and her father.

Tarvo walked over to her slowly. He stood in front of his daughter, towering over her, despite the fact that she was quite tall herself.

“Thank you, dad,” she told him, a tear sliding down her cheek.

He reached out a gentle hand and wiped the tear away.

“Do not thank me yet, daughter,” he replied, his voice grave. “I am still not convinced this is not a colossal mistake.”

“It is not. I promise you,” she returned.

“That will be proven or not proven in the days to come,” he responded. “In the meantime, you are forbidden to see him. Heari is more than capable of mending him. She will be in charge of his recovery and when he is deemed fit and healthy, he will be banished from our home. Do you understand?”

“I do, but I don’t see why I shouldn’t be allowed to visit him. I found him. I brought him here to be treated. I am responsible for his life,” she said.

“This is my command, Keiara. Do not test me any further,” he said, his voice carrying a warning note.

Instead of arguing further, of pushing her luck any more than she already had, she simply acquiesced. She bowed her head to her father and then looked up at his eyes.

“I hope you know what you are doing,” he said. He turned and walked away from her. “Take him to Heari,” he said as he got to the ladder that lead to their own home. Even though he didn’t turn around, his voice carried to her clearly.

She took up the sled again and started dragging it toward Heari’s massive hut. It stood off in the distance, at the base of an enormous monoak (one that was about three times bigger than the ones around it) which had the central hub building far up its massive trunk. When she got there, she put the sled down again, breathing a sigh of relief as her overtaxed muscles were given another bout of respite. She pounded a fist on the old healer’s door and stepped back, waiting. After a minute or two, it opened, revealing a dark skinned and slender figure that was slightly hunchbacked.

Heari’s crone-like face peered at Keiara curiously for a moment and then to the Rook. She smiled, causing the mass of wrinkles on her face to deepen dramatically.

Keiara held out hers and Asher’s bags of akavi herb.

“I brought you the herbs you wanted,” she said, smiling wearily. She felt so exhausted. Then she looked to the sleeping Rook on the makeshift stretcher. “And I found him in the desert. I thought he would make a good gift.”

“How thoughtful, child. Asher told me what happened. Come in, come in. Let’s see what we can do for the young boy,” Heari said, laughing. She stepped away from the door so Keiara could come in.

She picked up the sled again, her muscles seeming to burn with fire, and dragged the Rook into Heari’s hut.

The inside was massive. The rounded walls were filled with shelves and decorations of every flavor and kind imaginable. Spices and herbs. Old tribal masks and other relics from their past. Weapons. Dolls. Pots. Even thriving plants. There was also a large fireplace in the back of the hut with six cots spread around it. There were three on each side of the fireplace with their headboards pushed up against the hut’s wooden walls.

“Take him to one of the beds closest to the fire. He’ll need warmth,” Heari demanded and Keiara obeyed.

She brought the stretcher over there and the two of them carefully lifted the boy onto one of the thick mattresses filled with goose feathers.

The Rook groaned slightly in pain as Heari went to work. She started with something that Keiara had always found odd, floating the palms of her hands inches above the Rook’s chest. Pretty soon, they glowed with a soft green light. It spread over his entire body like a blanket. After a couple of seconds, it receded. Heari’s eyes opened again and went immediately to the boy’s maimed leg.

“He is remarkably unharmed,” she noted. “No broken bones. No bleeding. The only thing is this.”

She pointed to the blackened leg.

“Can it be saved?” Keiara asked. Her voice was taking on a pronounced slur. Her mind was growing fuzzier and fuzzier as her exhaustion swept over her. She shook her head to clear it and focused again on Heari.

“No,” the crone replied immediately.

“What about the akavi?” she asked, suddenly remembering the herb. Its medicinal purposes were nearly magical and were reputed to heal almost anything.

“The akavi will keep infection away but its principle use is for illness or poisons. It will do nothing to heal the damage he’s taken to his leg. From what I can tell, it’s an electrical burn. The muscle tissue and nerves have all been fried. There’s no way that I know of to heal that kind of damage,” Heari explained.

“Electrical?” Keiara asked. Her confusion was profound. “What is electrical?”

“Electricity, dear,” Heari responded. Keiara still drew a complete blank. She’d never heard of electricity before. “It is something that the Rooks use to power their lights and devices. They also use it as a weapon.” Her eyes shifted down to the burns the Rook had suffered.

Keiara didn’t understand.

“He electricalled himself?” she asked, confused.

“No. He didn’t electrocute himself.” Heari laughed. “Another Rook did this to him.”

“What?” she interrogated, shocked. “They try to kill each other too?”

“Of course,” Heari replied, as if it were obvious. She got up and went to a big dresser just past the row of beds. She pulled open the middle drawer and got out a broad knife with a serrated edge full of sharp little teeth. She laid it carefully on a tray and then went back and got the rest of her supplies. She handed Keiara some thread and needle that she was told to place next to the knife.

“Now leave,” she told Keiara. “This is not going to be pretty.”

“I want to stay,” she responded quickly. She thought about her dad’s command to stay away but she just couldn’t. For whatever reason, she couldn’t bring herself to leave his side. “I want to be here for him.”

“He is not your concern anymore, Keiara. He is mine,” Heari retorted. “But if that’s how you feel, then who am I to stop you. We’ll tell your dad you were simply too exhausted to climb up to your house and I made you sleep here. Tomorrow, you will have to think of something else if you want to keep seeing your exotic Rook.”

Keiara smiled. The old healer always seemed to know what was going on in her head. Sometimes, even before she did.

“But if you are going to stay, then you are going to help. I don’t care how tired you are. The procedure will last a good long while,” she explained. Heari rose and walked over to a sink. She grabbed a cup, poured in water, and then added a pinch of a bright purple powder. She brought the cup to Keiara who drank it quickly. “That will keep you going for a bit so you don’t pass out from fatigue, dear. This is going to be excruciatingly painful for him and I think it wouldn’t hurt for him to have a pretty girl next to his bed.”

Keiara blushed. Then the potion started working and her aches, pains, and weariness suddenly vanished. She felt renewed and energized.

She focused on Heari as the crone got to work.

The first thing she did was cut away the Rook’s left pant leg nearly up to his groin. The harsh reality of his wounds invaded Keiara’s eyes and she nearly wept for him. He had no idea how bad things were. When he woke up, his lower left leg would be gone. She only hoped she could help him heal.

Keiara focused on the boy’s face and studied his handsome features.

“Here we go,” Heari whispered as she laid the serrated blade on the man’s leg, a few inches below his knee.

She began sawing through skin, muscle, and bone. Her movements meticulous and careful.

Then the screaming started.