9. Ava
AVA
The storage room door creaked open on rusty hinges.
Ava sat up with a hiss of pain, squinting into the torchlight that loomed over her. She could see nothing except the glowing orange blaze of flame directly over her head. For a moment, she feared they meant to burn her to death.
But then the flame eased backward. Ava blinked until her eyes accustomed to the sudden glow of light. Brynja glared down at her, the torch held high in one hand.
“I’ve stitched the dragon’s wounds earlier today,” Brynja said, her tone hard and emotionless. “What else would you do for her?”
Ava winced and dragged herself to her feet. “You stitched her—”
“I said, what else would you do for her?” Brynja repeated, her tone icier than ever.
“Is, uh, is there any sign of infection?”
Brynja didn’t so much as blink or draw breath. She might have been made of stone, not flesh and blood.
“If the, uh, scales are warmer to the touch than normal, I would put on a poultice. Turmeric and clay, if you have them.”
“Clay we can do,” Brynja said, shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t even know what turmeric is.”
“Ah. It comes from the Dunewatch. They grow it underground. It’s the rhizomes that you need. It’s an orange-colored spice if you purchase it from an apothecary or a wise woman.”
“I’ll just trot down to the nearest dune post and fetch some, shall I?”
Ava’s cheeks grew warm. “You could also try a clay and ash poultice. You should be able to find those around here.”
Brynja took a sudden step forward. “Watch your tone, elf.”
“I meant no disrespect.” She backed deeper into the dark storage room. “I was merely answering your question.”
“You were merely doing much more than that.”
An awkward silence followed, and neither of them seemed willing to break it.
At last, Ava drew in a slow, steadying breath. “When she is awake, I would feed her broth with a little ale and ash mixed in it. Make sure it isn’t boiling, but dragons do like it quite hot.”
“Ash?” A flicker of doubt rippled over Brynja’s face, the first sign of emotion she’d shown since entering the storeroom. “In her broth?”
Ava forced a smile that she hoped was encouraging. She wasn’t really accustomed to smiling. In her line of work, patients preferred a calm and confident healer who comforted with their actions and with their results, not with their smiles.
“I know it sounds strange,” she said. “But ash is healing for dragons. At least, that’s what I’ve read.”
“So, you’ve never tested this ridiculous theory yourself, then?”
Ava shook her head, swallowing the lump in the back of her throat. “No. I’ve never been asked to heal a dragon before. But I’ve studied extensively in my apprenticeship.”
“You’re an apprentice?” More doubt crept into the human girl’s tone. “You must really have him wrapped around your little finger if he trusts you with his dragon. You aren’t even a proper healer. She’d be better off on her own…”
She stepped backward as if she meant to retreat and close the door.
Ava surged forward, one hand outstretched. “Please don’t go. I-I haven’t had any food and water since yesterday. And I can help you with the dragon. I can show you how to get her to take the broth, and—”
“I’ll just give her the bowl, won’t I? If she’s thirsty, she’ll drink.”
Ava winced and shook her head at the girl’s ignorance. “That won’t work. When an animal is ill, they can be difficult to entice.”
Brynja blew out a noisy breath. “If you’re trying to coerce me into letting you out of this cell, you’re crazy. You aren’t going anywhere.”
Tears pricked behind Ava’s eyes, the exhaustion, hunger, and thirst gnawing at her insides as she lifted her chin a fraction.
“Very well. I will wait here, and we can re-discuss this after you’ve tried to feed an angry dragon from a bowl.
And after I stitch your hand back on after it’s been bitten off. ”
Brynja’s mouth thinned to a dangerously white line. “Watch your words, elf. I’m the only thing standing between you and a shallow grave.”
“And I am the only thing standing between that dragon and her grave,” Ava said softly. “I may not be a master healer, but they trusted me to work with the prince of Gelaira. I am quite skilled. I mean no one any harm. I’m just a healer. Nothing more.”
This seemed to stump the human girl. She said nothing, a muscle in her jaw ticking as she contemplated Ava with a deadly stare.
Ava desperately hoped this argument would win her over because she was running out of ideas.
She was too tired and too weak to be clever. She needed broth and poultices herself…
“Please,” she dared to add. “Take me to the dragon.”
Brynja’s expression grew fiercer, but when she spoke, it was in that detached tone again. “Very well. But trust my word when I say I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you try to run or do anything suspicious.”
She patted the handle of her sheathed blade.
“I would expect nothing less,” Ava murmured, eyeing the dangerous human with more than a little concern. “Before we go, I’m going to need some supplies. A cloth flask or water skin and something long and hollow but not too thick. Like a reed? Or a hollowed out stick about so long?”
She held out her hands to show a distance of three feet.
“We should be able to arrange that. Anything else?”
“Something thick and gummy to act as a seal. Clay might work. Or tree sap would be better. And rags. Lots of rags.”
After they gathered the supplies, Brynja slung the bag over Ava’s shoulder, then led her outside the camp blindfolded. All was quiet around her. Robbed of her sight, she became more alert to sound, straining for any little noise that might reveal where she was or what was happening around her.
A fire crackled somewhere nearby—the scent of smoke teased her nostrils. But other than a barely audible murmur of voices, nothing broke the silence to tell her anything about her surroundings.
The air felt cold against her skin, so it might be evening?
Leaves crunched beneath her boots as the murmur of voices faded into the darkness as if they had never existed to begin with. Ava’s pulse thundered beneath her skin, and her stomach clenched as she waited for something to go wrong.
Had Brynja brought her out into the woods as an excuse so she could kill her?
The threat of that blade against her spine grew more sinister by the moment. What if it hadn’t been a threat but a promise of what was to come?
She forced herself to inhale through her nose and exhale through her mouth to help calm her nerves.
Her shins banged into something hard. She hissed between her teeth as Brynja gave her elbow a merciless jerk from behind. Ava felt frantically with her free hand, her fingers brushing over something hard and bumpy. Rough edges caught beneath her fingernails as she explored. Tree bark?
Perhaps it was a fallen log. She lifted a leg and tried to climb over the obstacle as Brynja tugged to the left.
“Can’t I take the blindfold off now?” Ava whispered. “We’ll travel faster if I can see.”
Brynja’s only response was to push her harder and force her to move more quickly down whatever trail she had chosen. Ava ground her teeth together and stumbled forward on aching legs.
The lightheadedness from her hunger combined with the darkness all around her made her dizzy and disoriented.
If only Brynja had given her a little water before beginning this ridiculous journey…
The path beneath her feet slanted abruptly. She gasped and leaned backward to maintain her balance as she slid and stumbled downward. She half fell, half walked down, down, down, frantically trying to step over stones and ledges without twisting an ankle or pitching headlong into darkness.
At last, the ground leveled before her. But her relief was short-lived because the ascent began on the other side of the ravine. Ava tripped and went down on one knee.
“Keep moving,” Brynja barked.
“I can’t! I’m going to fall if you don’t take off the blindfold! I know we’re in the ravine, headed back to the clearing where we left the dragon. What is the point—”
Brynja shoved her in the opposite direction, startling her so badly she nearly tumbled sideways. Rough fingers tore at her face, and then the blindfold ripped away. Torchlight flooded over her. Ava blinked wildly as her eyes accustomed to their newfound freedom.
Brynja’s angry face swam into focus behind the torch.
“Thank you,” Ava managed.
But the human girl said nothing. She merely spun on her heel and continued to yank Ava down the path. They scrambled up the ravine, Brynja forcing her to go first while she followed behind with the torch.
Thankfully, her dagger was still in its sheath.
As they neared the upper lip of the ravine, something echoed through the forest, barely audible over Ava’s labored breathing.
“What—”
“Silence!” Brynja hissed, shoving her to her knees.
Her hand pressed hard on Ava’s shoulder as she stood over her, listening. Another shriek flickered between the trees. A chill raced up Ava’s spine, her imagination wondering what terrible thing in the darkness had caused that otherworldly scream.
It sounded too high-pitched to be Jerrid. Was it Echo screaming in pain?
But no, it didn’t sound like a dragon’s roar either. She would have expected something more guttural, more animalistic.
This sounded human.
The scream split the air again, louder this time.
“We need to move. Now!” Brynja yanked Ava to her feet and shoved her forward.
Together they ran straight toward the danger, the flickering light from Brynja’s torch casting erratic patterns on the ground in front of Ava. She could barely keep track of where the path was because the light bounced around too much.
At one point, she nearly ran off the trail, but Brynja grabbed her, dragged her out of the ferns, and shoved her in the right direction.
A weak roar mingled with the screams as they burst free of the trail and stumbled into the clearing. The moon shone bright white directly overhead, and in front of them…
Ava had never seen such a monstrosity in her life.