Page 148 of Silverbow
The captain stood beside him, scowling. He took one look at Enya and turned to Andril. “You didn’t bloody tell me you were fleeing with a fugitive.”
“No fugitive,” Andril answered gruffly. “An accident.”
“An accident? Bah!” The captain spat.
Pedron leapt off Cle and towered over the man. “Have your bloody boat ready to sail, or I’ll do it for you.”
The grizzled captain met his glare, but his eyes found the twin swords crossed over Pedron’s shoulders and he took a step back. The demi-elves cocked their heads back toward the road.
“Ready your men to push off,” Andril said quickly, taking Pips’s reins to lead him up the plank, Enya still propped in the saddle.
Liam dismounted, leading a wary Arawelo toward the ramp. She planted her feet and eyed the water that frothed in the drop below. Adar strode by her leading Kiawa and the black clopped across it stoically. As if not to be outdone, Arawelo took a tentative step, then another, and Liam loosed a sigh of relief when she stepped onto the deck of the bobbing ship. Enya would kill him if they left the mare behind.
“See to the horses,” Adar growled, shoving Kiawa’s reins into Liam’s hands. Another time, he might have marveled at the stallion, but his eyes were fixed on Enya. Whatever wielded bond had been holding her in the saddle fell away, and she fell limply into Adar’s outstretched arms. He lifted her carefully, trying not to jostle the bolt as he clutched her to his chest and strode toward the captain’s cabin. “Colm.”
“Is she going to be alright?” He asked the golden haired demi-elf.
Andril, or Colm as it seemed he was called now, handed him Pips’s reins as Cle and Kez joined the roped off enclosure. “There is a skilled elven healer in Tuminzar.”
“Is she going to make it to Tuminzar?”
“Why isn’t this bloody boat moving?” Pedron roared.
Colm clapped him on the shoulder. “See to the horses, Liam. You don’t want to see this.”
Liam looked down at his hands, still stained crimson with Enya’s blood. He swallowed. Perhaps it made him a coward, but he nodded.
thirty-seven
Oryn
Oryn carefully lowered Enya to the floor. It was the only place wide enough in the cramped little cabin to crowd around her limp form. Her breath came in ragged wheezes and her skin had turned clammy. Colm sidled in behind her, the heavy farrier’s snips ready in his hand. Oryn stared down at the broadhead, his own hands braced around her shoulders to keep her upright.
“Can you hear me, Enya?” He asked as he plunged into his gifts. They’d been running wild since the gate, swelling in their divine power with each drop of blood that wept from her wound.
He had known since his first wielding that her injuries far exceeded his skill. He could staunch the bleeding with a patch. He could knit the skin. But he could not fix what had been severed in her shoulder or damaged in the lung. That kind of healing took real skill and the kind of training that could only be found in Oyamor. Either way, the bolt had to come out, so he spun out a barrier or air to seal the sound into the captain’s cabin.
“We have to take it out, Enya. You’re going to wish I’d let you fall on the paving stones in Windcross Wells, but after that…after that…”
Her eyes fluttered as she tried to open them. A weak little whimper escaped her.
“Ready?” Colm asked.
Oryn gave a nod and with a clean, sharpcrack, the fletching that protruded from her back clattered to the floor. Enya jolted beneath his hands. Emerald eyes flew open as she let out a choked scream. The sound seemed to burrow beneath his skin.
“It’s okay. We’re almost done,” he lied. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Enya.”
“N-N-needle and thread…” It was hardly more than a breath.
Oryn swallowed. He hated that gods damned list, but he hated even more that her teeth started chattering.Gods, no.There was nothing he could do for that kind of cold. “Hold on, Enya. I’ve got you.”
“Oryn…” Her eyes fluttered again.
The sound of his name on her lips wrecked him. He had to steady himself as he flexed his fingers and it had nothing to do with the rocking of the ship beneath him. He spun air, water, and spirit together, readying another patch. Colm, seeing the wielding come together, wrapped his arms around her middle, pinning her elbows to her sides.
Her face twisted. “Oryn, please,” she whimpered.
With a breath, he took hold of the shaft and pulled before he lost his nerve. Enya screamed and tried to thrash against Colm’s grip.
