Page 80 of Deadwood
I shook my head, adjusting my arms across my chest. “I don’t think so.”
“It had to have been there for a while, right? I’ve never seen a dragon like what you described,” Siara said.
“I have,” Raiden piped in. “In the mines.” Before Raiden had taken residence in Deadwood and become my commander, he had been enslaved in the mines of a kingdom on another continent. He’d tried to kill a guard in order to escape, but had been caught and sentenced to be hung. I was lucky I had found him in his cell when I was over there for a meeting and was able to sneak him out. The way in which he held himself gave me all I needed to know that he wasn’t a man who deserved to die for trying to escape cruel conditions. Ever since, we’d looked out for each other. “Dragons decay, but don’t die unless by some other force.”
It was no secret that dragons couldn’t die of old age. They simply kept living until they were killed in battle, ate something poisonous, or some other unfortunate element took them out. Not many lived to see the day their scales wilted off their bones, though.
“You think it’s been trapped down there for years, then?” Flynt asked.
I nodded. “To be in that state, decades, at least. If not well over a century.”
Flynt’s brows pulled together. “And there’s no way to get it out?”
“I’m not too sure that it wants out,” I said, moving my gaze back to Auria across the room. Quinn seemed to be done with her and was heading my way as Auria spiked up a conversation with the patient she’d been seated beside.
“Bowen,” the doctor said, giving a small dip of her chin before stopping a few feet from me. She was tall, freckles dotting the entirety of her pale skin, with bright red hair that fell to her shoulders.
“Doctor Quinn,” I greeted. “How is she?”
My friends’ attention was focused raptly on her as they waited for her response. I wondered if they hoped for good news as much as I did. Siara grew attached to things—and people—rather quickly, which was what I didn’t want. She was far too emotional at times, which would only hurt her more when Auria had to leave. Flynt, on the other hand, didn’t want to see harm come to those who didn’t deserve it, and Raiden was simply curious. He was never too concerned unless it came to one of the three of us. We were the closest thing he had to a family. So his interest in Auria’s health was…suspicious.
Doctor Quinn laced her fingers together in front of her. “She’s going to be fine. Her vitals are okay, but she does have a slight wheeze when she breathes, likely due to the gas. I don’t believe she inhaled enough for it to affect her much worse than that. Some warm tea and staying indoors until the storm is over will be her best route to a quick recovery.”
“Thank you.” That was all good. She was going to be fine. Now I could stop worrying about the woman and return to my duties.
She pressed her lips together, eyeing the others before explaining. “She does have the slightest fever, but nothing major. From the adrenaline, possibly. I wouldn’t be worried. And her ankle.” She pinned her gaze on me. “I gave her a healing vial for the sprain.”
I tried not to give a reaction, but I knew she expected me to explain why I hadn’t done the same in the first place. Truth was, I didn’t know why. I didn’t want anyone to suffer, but if I’d given her a healing vial when she had arrived, I’d have had to provide them to her entire group. And the sooner they recovered, the sooner they’d be gone. I’d wanted that, and yet?—
I gave a curt nod. “Thank you for taking a look at her.”
She dipped her chin. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to see her in pain longer than she needs to be, regardless of where she came from.” With one last suspicious look at me, she moved back across the room to one of her patients—a brawny man I recognized from the gambling hall. He visited often, and fought even more.
I knew people expected me to treat Auria cruelly due to the past, but it wasn’t that. If she had been healed and able to travel, they would have left first thing, taking her back to that castle to be locked away, not to see Serpentine ever again. Her injury was her key to freedom. I was just helping lead her to the lock so the door never shut.
A burst of wind whipped into the room as the door to the infirmary slammed open, then was shoved shut. One of Deadwood’s guards rushed over, eyes wide as they landed on me.
“Bowen,” Hanklie panted, attempting to catch his breath as he pulled his mask down. “The bridge.” He swallowed roughly. “It collapsed.”
Raiden went rigid beside me as Siara and Flynt leaned closer, like they might’ve heard him wrong.
“What do you mean itcollapsed?” I asked, my voice taking on its authoritative tone flawlessly.
“The bridge to Amosite?” Siara clarified.
Flynt shot her a look. “What other bridge, Siara?”
She glared at him in response.
“Meritum told me. It fell when the earthquake rolled through,” Hanklie explained. Meritum was Hanklie’s desert dragon.
“The entirety of the bridge?” I asked. That couldn’t be possible. The bridge had been standing for centuries, and one earthquake had managed to take it out?
Hanklie nodded. His eyes were red-rimmed from the debris in the air outside. “All of it, sir. Meritum was flying near the chasm when the earthquake hit. He watched it fall.”
“Watched what fall?” Auria asked, coming up behind Hanklie.
“The bridge, my lady,” Hanklie quickly answered, stepping to the side to give Auria some space to join us.
