Chapter Three
Agony! Pure agony! Screams tore from Daire’s throat. Dying. Just let him die! Let this be over!
He tried to look around. Flames shot into the sky, with no sounds of flapping wings or signs of other dragons. Ywain. Dead. Killed by an alpha!
Daire moaned, rolling to extinguish flames, only to realize the flames no longer enveloped him. Pain slashed his face, blood dripping from his chin. The stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils.
Had anyone seen him fall and come to help? Burned. Alone. An agonizing, drawn-out death.
Visions appeared in his mind. A knife, Father! He raised his muzzle to keen in traditional dragon mourning, then screamed when another bout of pain hit. Dragons healed faster than humans, but some injuries even a dragon couldn’t heal.
Daire curled into a ball on his side, panting to withstand the anguish, both in his heart and his body. He tried but failed to feel his dragon.
Flames lit the night, close enough to feel the heat, but not close enough to burn…yet.
He sensed more than saw someone approach, too tormented to care if they were friend or foe. Maybe they’d end his misery!
Sakaris’ voice broke through the fog. Sakaris! “You’re safe, Prince Daire. I’m sorry I didn’t get you out fast enough, but portals take time.” The old wizard kneeled a few feet away, backlit by fire. Fire. The reason every nerve ending screamed.
The mage waved his staff. The pain eased. “What…what did you do?” Daire panted. “Magic?”
“Possibly. Some of the magic is yours. You believed I could help, so I did. Your ability to understand human language and culture will increase. Information you’ll need.”
The words made little sense. Then again, Sakaris seldom did.
Another voice broke in, sounding as pained as Daire’s. “So…it’s true.” A man’s voice, which dissolved into a fit of coughing, followed by a muffled cry.
Sakaris turned and hovered a hand over a body equally burned as Daire’s. “Shh…you were in an accident. Your car is burning, but I got you out. Again, I’m sorry. I was too late.”
The man tried again. “Even though grandfather told me…I didn’t believe…” He lay a few feet away, a pool of blood spreading beneath his body. A distinct wetness came through in his cough.
Daire knew the sound of dying. He tried to crawl over, collapsing with a whimper. “Sakaris! Can’t you help him?”
The man replied, “There’s…no helping me…now. Grandpa said…others might come. Need help at first.” He grabbed Daire’s outstretched hand. “Take…my wallet. Be me. Grandpa…left me his cabin. Take it. No family. No one knows me…here.” The man’s voice grew weaker with each word. “For Grandpa.”
“Sakaris! Isn’t there something we can do?” The words cost Daire. He clenched his teeth, holding back a shriek. Shouts of Don’t make a sound. Enemies will find you! filled his head in his commander’s voice.
“He’s got no dragon blood,” Sakaris replied, now cradling the man’s head gently in his lap. “Sadly, I can do nothing for a human. Help is too far away, but will be here in time for you.”
Daire clung to the stranger’s hand, seeking any comfort in this storm.
The man smiled with bloody teeth. The roar of the fire almost completely drowned out his voice, though they didn’t appear to be in imminent danger.
“Remember me. You’ll be the only one who does.
” The light in his eyes dimmed while his grip on Daire’s hand slipped away.
A human. A stranger, yet Daire felt his death as keenly as Ywain’s.
Death. All around him, death. Ywain! Father! Now this stranger. “Sakaris! What about—”
“I’m sorry, Prince Daire. It was too late for your friend and your father.”
“You’re a mage! Why didn’t you know what would happen and stop it! Why let Father die?” Daire shouted as much as his failing body allowed.
“As much as I’d like to be, mages aren’t all-knowing.
I thought to intercept your uncle when I left the bowl.
I didn’t know he had Mage Gwythyr lift the protections.
I didn’t know he could lift the protections.
His powers have grown. They also kept me from returning.
It was too late. All I can do now is make what amends I can. ”
Sakaris lifted the dead man from the ground and stood, surprisingly strong for one considered ancient.
“But it’s not too late for you. My healing abilities don’t work the same here but lie still.
I hear help coming. Do as this man says.
Take his identity. Stay in this place until you’re needed again in our world. ”
Surely Sakaris wouldn’t abandon him here. “What about my brothers?”
“You’ll reunite when needed. You all have your own journeys to make until then, and important people to meet. The humans will probably give you medication for pain, which can keep you from feeling your dragon for a bit, so don’t panic.”
What? Daire couldn’t feel his dragon now.
He tried to focus, but both Sakaris and the human vanished.
Had he dreamed them? He then noticed a heap of twisted metal against a tree—the source of the fire.
Flames engulfed the tree trunk, igniting the night.
Daire needed to get out of here! A bitter stench stung his nose. Gasoline, his mind supplied.
He patted the ground around him, hand landing on a supple object. Leather? Was this the wallet the man spoke of?
An awful squawking drew closer, along with flashing lights and a tinny and distant voice. Not dragon fire, nor bellows.
Humans. Several of them. “Move it!!” one shouted, “before the whole damned woods burn.”
Tugging, lifting, less warmth. Being gently placed down.
“Can I help you?” someone asked.
Daire managed a nod.
Someone in a blue uniform peppered him with questions, while others in different clothing prodded his body. He didn’t have the energy to protest.
“I’m giving you a sedative,” Daire heard from somewhere far away.
A moment later, he relaxed, still hurting, but distant somehow.
Voice shouted nearby. Cooling water spattered his skin. Men in heavy coats aimed hoses at the fire. Firemen. Putting out the fire. Not dragon fire. A vehicle. A…car. An accident.
A man in blue flipped open the wallet. “Let the paramedics take care of you, Mr. Hodges.”
Hodges? Who was Hodges? Daire’s mind went blissfully dark.
Daire woke on his stomach in a tiny, narrow bed with metal rails on the sides. A tube of some kind emerged from under a thin white covering, and both arms were wrapped. His face still throbbed, but the pain seemed more manageable now. Something like potent herbs stung his nose.
For a moment, he panicked. Where was his dragon? Then he recalled the mage’s warning.
A man entered the room wearing white, an air of confidence about him, which probably indicated an elder. Daire had never dealt with humans, so he wouldn’t know. The man dropped into a chair beside Daire with a weary sigh. Daire had a million questions but couldn’t seem to speak.
“I’m Doctor Titus, but most folks call me Doc. I haven’t much time, so I’ll explain what I can. You’re in Mercy General Hospital’s burn unit after hitting a tree with your car. You’ve been badly burned and have severe cuts on your face. Do you remember?”
Daire shook his head. He’d been in a battle, right?
“Your care team kept you sedated because of your injuries. If you’d been human, you’d have undergone multiple surgeries and skin grafts.”
“How long?” Daire rasped, throat raw.
“Three days.” The doctor leaned in closer.
“Your driver’s license says you’re Griffin Hodges, Nate Hodges’ grandson.
Nate was my friend, and I knew what he was.
You’re the same. I don’t know how either of you got here, but I’ll do my best to help and keep anyone away who might recognize you’re not human.
Your critical care doctor is doing me a favor and keeping your remarkable healing quiet. ”
Daire stared, all he seemed capable of doing. The man’s skin was much darker than Daire’s, with black hair shot through with gray on his face but none on his head, which gleamed in the room’s light.
“I’ve given you another sedative because I can’t have you ranting indiscriminately. I know you’re not actually Griffin and likely weren’t in the car, but whoever you are, your secret is safe with me.”
“What happened to Griffin?” Daire whispered, though his throat ached.
“He didn’t make it. Someone took his body, nearest I can tell.
No way he could’ve survived that wreck. I’m creatively using the truth to explain how you managed.
Now rest. I’ve assigned only discreet nurses to attend to you, but I’ll be your personal doctor.
One of the other doctors might eventually notice how fast you’re healing, if allowed to treat you.
We can talk more once you’ve rested. You’re safe now. Sleep.”
Daire did.
Daire spent the next few days eating, sleeping, and waiting for Doc’s visits. Doc brought magazines or turned on the television to help Daire learn about this new world. Though his back and shoulders were sore, Daire began sitting up a week after arriving at the hospital.
“I’ve explained away any knowledge lapses by overstating your head injury, claiming you’d suffered a concussion,” Doc said from beside the bed.
He gently peeled the bandages back from Daire’s face, eyes widening in surprise.
“Those were nasty wounds, but they’re healing nicely.
I’m going to check your stitches, which should have dissolved by now.
You probably would’ve healed fine without them, but it would’ve raised suspicions. ”
Daire endured Doc’s gloved-hands attentions without a flinch.
“There,” Doc said upon finishing his examination. “I’m afraid you’ll have noticeable scars, and one of your eyes is bloodshot. That will ease. Close your good eye.”
Daire did.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Two.”
“You still have vision, but we’ll need to ensure it stays that way. Can I ask what caused these marks?”
“Dragon claws.”
Doc dabbed at Daire’s face with what appeared to be a cotton ball, the pain easing under his ministrations. “You were in a fight?”
“A battle, actually.” With no idea who won or who all the combatants were.
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’m a good listener. At least, Nate found me to be.” A sad smile flitted across the doctor’s face.
“What happened to Nate?” Another dragon? Here? Griffin was his grandson, right? But Sakaris said Griffin had no dragon blood.
“He returned to the Goddess.”
Maybe Doc would understand Daire’s own sorrow. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Had Nate been a close friend? A lover?
“Do you have anyone who’ll worry about you?” Doc settled back in the bedside chair.
“My uncle murdered my father.” Daire swallowed hard against the knot in his throat. “I have two brothers. I don’t know where they are. And I had a friend, too.” Tears sprang to Daire’s eyes. He dashed them away with a bandaged hand—the one without some kind of tube sticking out of the wrappings.
“I’m sorry for your loss as well. I’ve lost all of my family to different kinds of battles: cancer, accidents, time. It seems we’re both pretty alone right now. However, you’ve got me. I’ll do whatever I can to help you, in Nate’s honor.”
Daire made a snap decision. “And I’ll be here for you, in Father and Ywain’s honor.”
Doc clasped an unscathed part of Daire’s arm. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Doc once more sat in a chair by the bed. “It’s not on your prescribed diet, but human portions likely leave you famished.”
Doc helped Daire sit up on the side of the bed. “Yeah. I am pretty hungry,” especially after catching a whiff of whatever Doc carried in a…bag? Not like the bags back home, but a bag nonetheless.
Doc chuckled, reaching into the bag and removing a wrapped parcel. Cook wrapped cheese in paper sometimes. Had Doc brought cheese? It didn’t smell like cheese, though cheese might’ve provided one of the smells.
The wrapper yielded…something. Bread? Meat?
“This is called a hamburger.” Doc held the offering to Daire’s mouth.
Daire took the bite. Oh! Tasty! He barely chewed, swallowed, and then opened his mouth like a baby bird.
Doc handed Daire the burger. “I'll catch you up while you eat. Griffin Hodges’s father was Nate Hodges's adopted son, and Nate’s only family after the death of the son.
“Nate planned to retire. Griffin came to take over his construction business. Your construction business now. Nate was building a new home to spend his retirement in, while Griffin took his cabin. It appears that Griffin swerved his car off the road and hit a tree. Judging by the skid marks on the road, he likely tried to avoid hitting something like a deer or a dog.”
“Car?” Daire stopped eating to ask, recalling twisted, flaming metal. He’d seen non-burning ones on TV. “Will I need one?” If one killed Griffin, how safe were they?
Doc nodded. “Since you can’t use your wings, yes. Sadly, Nate didn’t live to see his grandson’s arrival. He has…had an old truck you can use, after you learn how to drive.”
“When can I leave here?” Having so many people make a fuss over him grated on his nerves. He should be out fighting, sparring, hunting, or doing something. He’d left the luxury of the castle for reasons.
“As I mentioned earlier, we’ve had to be creative with your medical chart, as you’re healing far faster than a human. You’ll have scars, but I’ll give you creams you can use to help keep the skin supple, and physical therapy will also help.”
Daire finished the hamburger, sniffing hopefully for more.
Doc laughed, sticking a hand back into the bag. “I’m about to introduce you to the joys of french fries.”