Page 61 of The Great and Terrible

“You won’t get far, enforcer. Not with the poppies feeding on you, your wounds bleeding nonstop, and the arrowheads leaking poison into your veins,” the pacer called, his satisfaction redoubled. “Give us the girl, and I’ll give her serpens-rosa, saving her from the poppies. If you beg enough, I might let you and the others crawl away.”

I perked up. They had the all-curing medicine. Hopefully enough to heal Jasherandmy father.

“You’ll have to wade through the poppies to get her, Osvaldo.” Pain coated Jasher’s slurred voice. He dropped his backpack and stretched out on the ground, being careful not to jostle the protrusions. “If you use your few remaining arrows on me, you’ll have none for the rabdog when he comes for you. And he will come for you. I hear him stalking through the trees even now. Do you?”

As if to prove his words, screams spilled from the forest, accompanied by frenzied growls. Nugget was ending any survivors, no doubt about it.

Leona whimpered and curled into herself. “I can’t die here,” she whispered. Fat tears streaked down her cheeks. “My sister needs me. If Drogan is right, she’s alive. Sold at a governor’s auction three months ago. ”

“Sorry, but your sis is probably dead. What?” Patch snapped when Moriah glared at her. “Three months is like three years in substitute time. And she didn’t end up with West, the most merciful of the bunch.”

“She’s alive,” Leona hissed softly. “No one in their right mind would kill her.”

The redhead spread her arms, as if the other woman had just made her point for her.

“Quiet,” I demanded as the second soldier notched his bow and scanned the forest. Six other missiles waited in his quiver.I couldn’t, wouldn’t let him use them to harm my fur-baby. Which meant I must take them—or him—out. First, I needed to stabilize Jasher.

“I’m not surprised you know my name,” Osvaldo called. “My reputation precedes me. I’ve rid the world of dozens of your kind.”

What a horrible person. “Do either of you have medical training?” I asked Leona and Patch.

Leona shrank back, shaking her head.

“Not me,” Patch said.

“I won’t allow a royal guard to win the Guardian’s prize,” Osvaldo announced. “Do you hear me? If I must die to prevent you from escaping with her, I’ll do so.”

Jasher’s brow wrinkled with bewilderment, but he said nothing. So. My tinman hadn’t known of the prize as Iris inferred.

“What’s the prize?” Patch called. I snapped my teeth at her, and the redhead spread her arms again. “Truth is power.”

“Something you won’t need if you’re already dead,” Osvaldo responded. “A lifetime without fear of being killed as a sacrifice.”

Both Patch and Leona gasped, but Jasher didn’t seem to hear. I skimmed my gaze over him. His usually dusky skin was ashen. Glazed irises told a story of inner agony. I couldn’t leave him in this condition, medical training or not.

“The Guardian overrules the governors. He can save my sister with nothing but words,” Leona whispered, and it was clear her mind had already cobbled together a plan. Turn me in for a different reward.

“You can’t trade me for your sis if we fail to defeat these rebels, so, help me, please. Distract the men. Don’t let them shoot at Nugget.”

She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. “I’ll do it, and you’ll let me turn you in.”

“Same.” Patch popped to her knees and tossed a handful of bone shards. They clinked, drawing Osvaldo’s attention. She repeated the act again and again, in different directions, keeping him busy.

I dug through Jasher’s pack for anything useable. Clothes, no. Weapons, not yet. Strange things I couldn’t identify, no. Toiletries—yes! A first aid kit. Hakeldama version of one, anyway. Inside I discovered clean bandages, a needle and thread, two pieces of a metal ring, salves, and vials of liquid, some fuller than others.

“You don’t happen to have an antidote to their poison in here, do you?” I asked Jasher.

“No antidote. They used phobina.” He grimaced as veins bulged in his neck and cords pulled taunt. “Makes you feel like you’re being frightened to death. Fatal in large quantities. In small doses, it keeps a body stressed, slowing the healing process, keeping you weak.”

“You’re dying, I get it. Now do as the girls and help me save you. I’ll score us some serpens-rosa and we’ll neutralize the poison.”

He flashed his teeth at me. “Do not endanger yourself.”

“Sure. You get better first.” I prepared the bandages, then uncorked the label-less vials to sniff the contents. When I found the one that smelled of disinfectant, I set it aside, at the ready, and wrapped my hands around the arrow in his shoulder. “On the count of three, it comes out.”

He drew in a deep breath. “Fit the pieces of the metal loop around the shaft’s base.”

“Look at you, talking dirty to me,” I teased. I also obeyed.A jolt of electricity shot up my arm the moment the two devices connected. “Uh, what just happened?”

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