Page 3 of Daman
“The Great White Wolf! Just like from the stories.” He smiled so big his honey eyes were almost swallowed by his freckled cheeks, and he hugged the toy to his chest. “I love it, Daman.”
Once the water came to a boil, I removed the pot from the fire and let it sit for several minutes like Morys had instructed. Then, I filled a cup, strained out the leaves, and gave it to him. “Careful. It’s hot.”
Lycus blew on the top of it before taking a sip. He softly sighed. “It tastes good.” He drank more. “Daman? Do you think the Roman legions will kill us?”
“What? Of course not.” I held up the wooden toy. “The Great White Wolf patrols the forest every night. Protecting us. He will bite off the heads of any Roman who crosses into our lands.”
“Is it true he’s a man during the day?”
“So the legend says.” I set his empty cup aside and covered him with the blanket. “Man by day, wolf by night.”
“And what of Balaur?”
“The dragon watches us from his place among the stars,” I responded. “And he leaves his palace to set fire to our enemies. He and the white wolf are companions.”
“Like you and me,” Lycus said with a smile, his eyes glassy.
I hated how weak and pale he looked.
“Yes. Just like you and me.”
The next day, I traveled to the ridge to gather more ironwort. The tonic had helped Lycus feel better, so I wished to make more. A patch of it grew close to the edge, and I carefully approached. I peered over the ridge, my pulse quickening at the long drop. After shoving some ironwort into my satchel, I was about to leave when a sudden breeze slammed into me.
My foot slid, scattering rocks off the ridge.
Maya appeared, reaching out for me, her eyes wide. But I lost my balance.
And then I was free-falling.
The scream died on my lips as I fell backward, the world blurring past me on my way to the ground.I’m about to die.No one could survive a fall from that height. I thought of Lycus. Of how he was waiting for me.
My body hit hard moments later, knocking the breath from my lungs, and there was a sickeningsnap.I gasped like a fish out of water as I tried—and failed—to suck in a breath.
I couldn’t move, but I was alive.
Somehow.
“Boy,” came a deep, whispering voice from the dark cave beside me.
“H-Hel—” I croaked, but my plea for help broke off into a gasping breath. The back of my hair was damp, and I tasted blood on my tongue. My cheeks were damp, with tears or blood I didn’t know. Everything hurt. Everything apart from my legs.
I couldn’t feel them at all.
Slow steps echoed from inside the cave before a man appeared. He was taller than even the biggest warriors in the army and had medium-length black hair. A scar slashed across his right cheek, downturning the edge of his lips. When he knelt beside me, his eyes reminded me of the sky after rain, light gray with flecks of blue and green.
“P-Please.” My voice sounded all wrong. Hoarse. “My f-friend. He’s s-sick.”
“Here you lie broken and bleeding on the ground, yet you worry over another.” The man smoothed my hair back from my face. “No one’s dying today, my boy.”
Gently, he slipped his arms under me and lifted me from the hard ground. I faded in and out of consciousness. My legs hung at an odd angle, and each breath hurt. I closed my eyes, unable to fight the heaviness in my lids.
When they opened again, I found myself laying on a soft bed—so different than the lumpy cushions and straw Lycus and I slept on. Candles burned on a bedside table, and more flickered along the wall, lighting the room.
I wiggled my toes and smiled. Apart from a dull ache in my skull and a stiff neck, I had no pain.
“You’re awake,” the man said, walking into the room with a steaming bowl. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Here. Eat.”
It looked like meat and vegetable stew. I scooped up a potato, then a carrot, groaning as the spices filled my mouth. It was the best thing I’d ever eaten.
