The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)

Ash washed each of Lessa’s wounds. Periodically she forced Zar to leave the room, for Lessa’s modesty. But those were the only occasions on which he would consent to leave her side.

“What are you doing now?” Zar asked as the healer started spreading a translucent green gel on Lessa’s injuries.

“This is green rock serum. It will draw out the red, once her blood is cleansed she can be healed,” Ash said, looking down her nose very closely at Lessa’s shoulder.

“How long?” Zar asked at once.

She glanced at him before looking back down at Lessa. “It depends on how much red is in her system. Only a small amount is enough to kill… I have never seen this before. It looks like they dumped it on her.”

“Can I help?” Zar said.

Ash once again eyed him, but she relented and handed Zar a small jar, matching the one in her own hands. “I don’t care what has transpired between the two of you in the past. If you so much as glance at her anywhere that would make a young lady blush, I’ll have you out of my home faster than you can say ‘It was an accident’.”

A deep scowl spread on Zar’s face and his words were laced with venom. “I would never.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Ash replied dubiously. “I’ve been on this planet a long time, and all boys are the same.”

Despite the smear to his honor Zar didn’t have the energy to reply. He dabbed his finger in the gel and applied it to the charred burns on Lessa’s other arm.

Days had passed. Every three hours or so the green gel on Lessa’s skin would discolor to a deep brown and needed to be wiped off and reapplied. In addition to keeping her injuries clean Lessa had to be fed broth very carefully with a spoon. Ash took care of the other more delicate needs of Lessa’s body.

There had been little improvement in the extraction of the red rock serum. Perhaps her lacerations had become smaller, but they still looked like glaring tears in tapestries, cut by Zar’s own hand. Between worry, and caring for Lessa Zar hadn’t had much rest. Each night when he closed his eyes on the blankets he had dragged next to her bed, all he could see was her broken body.

One of Ash’s favorite chores for Zar was having him hike the mile or so to the river up the mountain and fish out the green rocks from the fairy pond there. The water was frigid, the river lined with ice. Zar had to pull out each stone with magic, lest he risk hypothermia. He was nearly back with a full bag when he heard horse hooves coming toward the mountain home.

The bag hit the ground and rocks spilled on the stones. It was Worran and Cinder, looking worse for their travels.

The horses stepped out of the snow into the bubble of warmth and Zar started forward, straight for Worran.

“Ah flames,” Worran said as he kicked his leg over the saddle and kicked to the ground.

“What is-” Anything else Cinder said was lost when Zar’s fist connected with Worran’s already bruised cheek.

“This is all your fault!” Zar bellowed at him. Worran dragged himself up from the ground and Zar hit him with his other fist.

“Zar-” Cinder tried to grab his arms but Zar threw him off and kicked Worran, sending him back to the ground.

“Don’t,” Worran waved off Cinder as he tried to intervene again.

“I trusted you!” Zar screamed at Worran, punching him in the gut as Worran once again found his feet.

Worran groaned, Zar grabbed his shoulder and punched his face once more. This time Worran fell to the ground and Zar dropped upon him, punching him across his cheeks.

Zar grabbed the front of Worran’s tunic in both hands. “Fight me!” he screamed, voice breaking like a child.

“No!” Worran yelled back from under Zar's fisted hands. “This is no less than I deserve!”

Zar’s only movement was his heaving chest. A sob hitched in his throat, and he fell to the side, tears falling freely from his eyes directly into the dirt.

Zar was grabbed roughly by Worran into a fierce hug.

When he was finally able to compose himself Zar pulled away from Worran and wiped his face on his sleeve.

“Is she… I mean… What's….” Worran wiped blood from his lips as he spoke.

“She’s breathing. Ash says she is improving, but she hasn’t so much as flexed a finger.”

After another week of healing, Lessa with the green gel, and her wounds were gone. She looked much as she had, but her hair was short and she was gaunt from malnutrition.

All she needed to do was wake up.

If she could wake up this nightmare would be over.

Zar would take her home then… Then….

She needed to wake up.

He had been so foolish to chase the crown. If it weren’t for his foolish ambitions this would have never happened.

“Storm,” the dragon did not move. “Storm?” She had been curled directly by the wall of the house since they arrived and had not moved.

If it wasn’t for her large form’s regular expansions and contractions of breath Zar would have thought her a statue.

“Storm?” he asked one more time with a hand on her neck. Storm’s great head unfolded from her coiled body and swung toward Zar. She was mournful.

Zar dropped to his knees before her. “Storm, I have to know. Is there… Will Lessa… Is her mind… Can she recover?”

Storm blew out a long anguished note.

Her meaning was clear.

“There has to be something we can do,” he said to the dragon. She swung her head away from him and tucked back into her tight ball.

That night Zar lay on the ground visualizing the future. He would build Lessa a house. He would make it big enough to hide Storm. They would have their own beds, there was no future where he would ever share her bed. But they would share a home and that would be enough.

And he would take care of her. He would spend the rest of his life atoning for his mistakes.

In his normal habit, Zar woke early. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before he heard the penetrating silence. He couldn’t hear Lessa’s breathing.

He jumped to his feet. Lessa wasn’t there.

Zar ran down the hall of the small mountain home. “Where is she?” he barked at Cinder and Worran, still asleep in a spare room.

“What?” Worran droned sleepily. Lessa clearly wasn’t here so he moved to Ash’s room, she was still asleep in her bed.

Lessa wasn’t in the house.

Zar threw himself through the front door, to where Storm still slept, he thumped on her side.

“Where is Lessa? She’s not inside.”

Storm launched to her feet so abruptly that Zar stumbled backward. Storm stood looking as confused as he felt. Then her wings unfurled.

“Wait!” He threw himself at her back and climbed into the saddle, she was airborne before Zar had even seated himself.

Storm’s nose directed their course south at once. “Where is she?” he had to yell over the wind their passing through air created.

A huff of smoke burst from Storm’s nose, Zar did not understand what that meant.

But deep in his heart Zar somehow knew Lessa going missing meant she would walk back into his life like nothing had happened.

For a few more tense moments Storm flew south, then her wings tilted up and caught the air and stalled them. Storm's entire body seemed to perk up and she bugled deafeningly into the air. Her head snaked happily through a twist and her body followed, changing their course almost completely.

There's my girl. Zar thought to himself, knowing that Storm could again hear Lessa's thoughts.