Chapter 19 #3
Do not complain to a healer, Wreylith said, or she will smear a foul-smelling greasy concoction all over you.
“You pirouetted and sashayed after I put that on your foot,” Syla said. “It must have felt good.”
When I landed, it squished between my toes like slug slime.
“Only because you were once again able to put weight on that foot. I bet your wound felt wonderful. Also, the salve would have been unctuous, not slimy.”
My toes could not discern the difference.
The orange head rose above the cliff again, eyes level with Syla’s, fangs parting slightly. Only a cobweb that must have been on the roots and now dangled from the dragon’s horn kept her from looking entirely fearsome. I would endure slime if it made the chafing go away.
“I did bring some of that salve, but you’d probably be better served by…” Syla removed her pack, pulling out her recently acquired ancient apothecary containers so she could reach her first-aid kit.
“Where did all those come from?” Fel asked.
“She was shopping while you were sleeping,” Teyla said.
“I approve. Those look like wonderful finds. Look at the art on the side of the ceramic jar. Is it Vyonetian? I had thought their people only settled in the mountains, but they must have used the river as a passageway to facilitate trade. I hadn’t realized their goods reached so far. How fascinating.”
Fel gave her a dark look. “Even without the moon-marks, I would know you two are related.”
Syla found a small jar of heliska paste and crawled to the edge to peer over the bank again.
The river flowed past thirty feet below, with the roots Igliana perched upon more than ten feet down the vertical slope.
What species of tree sent roots so deep down into the soil?
She glared balefully at the nearby rainforest, not only because of the deep roots but because their trunks and branches grew too densely for the dragons to climb up onto the bank where Syla could more easily reach Igliana’s injury.
“Catch me if I fall, please.” Syla tried to map a route, including possible toe and handholds, before turning so she could lower a foot over the edge.
Fall? Igliana looked at her, then at Wreylith.
Unlike stormer humans, those from the Garden Kingdom are rarely dexterous and agile, Wreylith told her, kindly sharing the words with all.
Is it because of the strange glass circles that so many of them wear over their eyes?
That may be part of it.
“It’s because I’m a healer, not a hunter.” Syla decided she didn’t like it when dragons spoke about her. “I read books; I don’t practice climbing.”
“I can go down there instead if you tell me where to rub what.” Fel came to the bank and dropped to his knees.
“You’re still recovering from your injuries that I wasn’t able to fully heal.
” Syla put the small container in her mouth so she could use both hands and carefully picked her way down.
Dropping into the water from twenty feet wouldn’t kill her.
And the predatory fish so fearless as to bite even dragons?
She trusted one of her scaled allies would pluck her out before that happened. Hopefully.
Fel squinted at her, as if he would come down anyway, but Igliana shifted her head to watch, inadvertently blocking him.
Despite her myopia—and strange glass circles—Syla managed to climb level with Igliana’s wounded belly.
The fish—had fish truly done that much damage to dragon scales?
—had left abrasions and punctures. They weren’t that deep, but there were dozens of them.
Considering how briefly Igliana had been in the water, the number was impressive.
Syla shifted with extreme care to keep her feet and one hand clamped to the bank while she pulled the lid off with her teeth and applied an antibacterial salve that soothed as well as lowering inflammation. It had an anti-itch property, too. She’d used it on some of her bug bites that morning.
Oh. It’s so cool and refreshing. If dragons could have purred, Igliana might have. Instead, she issued pleased clucks.
Later, you will find it slimy, Wreylith warned her.
Why so crabby about everything, Auntie Wrey?
“Auntie?” Syla mouthed as she finished applying the salve. “Are you relatives?”
My sleep was interrupted during the night, and, yes, we are, but more distant than the term aunt would imply.
Igliana came from the clutch of one of my sister’s offspring’s offspring.
My sister, were she still alive, would have been deeply upset to learn that one of her descendants yoked herself to humans.
My parents love me and are proud of me, Igliana said.
They would have upset my sister too.
She was probably as crabby as you.
Wreylith growled, but it didn’t sound that ominous.
Syla finished her work, managed to return the cap to her container and pocket it, and was debating how best to climb up when a rock she perched on gave way.
She squawked and flailed, trying to grab a root.
Her fingers only brushed it, and she fell.
Her spectacles loosened and Syla smashed a hand to her face to keep them on. Images of plunging into a den of deadly fish came to mind, but Igliana caught her a foot above the surface, jaws wrapping around her. Fortunately, her fangs didn’t penetrate. She even had a lighter touch than Wreylith.
Below the surface of the water, shadows stirred. Hungry fish that had been waiting for a meal?
Igliana lifted Syla and deposited her on Wreylith’s back. Climb aboard, human friends, and we shall depart.
“Maybe you should get a little figurine of her.” Fel tilted his head toward Igliana.
Wreylith’s slitted golden eyes narrowed. Even if crafters remained who knew how to make krendala, one would never link one to an unproven callow youth.
Ignoring the insult, Igliana flexed her wings and swished her tail. I feel wonderful now.
“Are you going to pirouette?” Fel asked warily, lowering Syla’s pack down to her from the bank.
Most certainly, but I’ll use my magic to keep you from falling off.
“That’s not all I’m worried about,” Fel grumbled. Did his face look green already?
No pirouetting. Wreylith launched from the bank.
Startled, Syla grabbed her spectacles again to keep them on, then flattened her hand to Wreylith’s scales to establish her tether of magic. Riding on a dragon was almost as alarming as falling twenty feet toward deadly fish.
Without waiting for the others, Wreylith took off, flying above the river and toward the mountains to the east. When Syla looked back, she spotted Fel and Teyla sliding down the bank to climb aboard Igliana’s back.
When the orange dragon took off, she didn’t pirouette, but she did fly back and forth in a distinctive sashay.
Glad she felt better, Syla settled in to plan how she would steal the amphora from Vorik.