Josiah had to swallow before he could echo that. Tobi whined, her head sinking to her paws.
Sar spent a few more minutes concentrating on the images the Mother’s power gave him. At last he heaved a sigh.
This will be difficult, but I’ll show her what to do. Nothing is broken past mending.
A tight knot released in Josiah’s gut. He swallowed and set his hand on Tobi’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Sar says we can heal him. We’re too tired to help much, but he’ll show you how.”
Tobi’s ears perked up, and she crept back to Elkan’s side. Sar moved over to make room for her. As she made contact with her bondmate, her bright gold wash of power joined Sar’s pale glow. Josiah turned his attention back to the rush of information swamping his senses as he listened to Sar.
His skull is intact, but the impact concussed his brain. There are many small broken blood vessels and a large area of bruised tissue. We need to ease the excess fluids from the brain, slowly and delicately so they don’t do more damage on the way out. At the same time we need to mend the blood vessels to stop the bleeding.
Sar began to do just that. The flow of the Mother’s power through Josiah’s body increased until his arms and legs trembled and the flashing lights before his eyes spun in crazy circles.
Sar’s mental voice sounded distant and tinny.
Maybe not.
The power coursing through Josiah dropped to the tiny trickle necessary to let them see.
You’ll have to describe to Tobi what she needs to do.
Josiah nodded. He blinked, focusing on the real world he could still see if he concentrated, and struggled to turn the complicated ideas and images into words. “Tobi, listen. Sar says you need to reduce the swelling first. You have to move the fluids, very carefully, and heal—”
Tobi listened alertly and tried to comply, but Josiah could perceive through his enhanced senses how clumsy her efforts were. Sar kept having him stop her and explain how she could refine her technique. Gradually she did, but Josiah worried more with every minute that Elkan remained unconscious. He could tell Sar was holding onto his temper with difficulty.
“Can we help?”
Josiah looked up, shaking his head to clear it, and refocused on the realm of ordinary sight and sound. Kevessa knelt beside him, Nina cradled in her arms. He looked around convulsively. “Where’s Mathir?”
“Father and the watchers have him. Nina used to be his familiar?”
“Yeah, until she had to break their bond. It was his own fault.” Josiah saw Mathir between two watchers, still on the deck of the ship. Gevan paced back and forth in front of him, ranting and waving his hands. Closer, many watchers were working to douse the smoldering remains of the wagon with buckets of river water. A few more watchers crouched by Tharan’s body.
Josiah returned his attention to Kevessa. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now we could really use your help. Sar and I are almost drained dry, and Tobi’s having a hard time understanding what she needs to do. It’s more complicated than anything she’s encountered before. Or me, either.”
“I don’t know how much help we’ll be. I couldn’t even work with Nina well enough to get that boy off me.” Kevessa shuddered. Her usual serene confidence had vanished, and her voice dragged with discouragement. “It’s harder than I thought it would be. But I’ll try.” She put her hand out. Gold light, much brighter than the wan glow Josiah and Sar could muster, spilled over Elkan.
Josiah wanted to say something encouraging, but he couldn’t summon the energy. Instead he let his attention shift back to his Mother-given perceptions. He briefly conferred with his familiar. “Sar says to concentrate on the swelling. Do you feel that pressure, like you’ve got wet pillows piled over you?”
“Yes,” Kevessa said, voice strained and eyes unfocused.
“Good. Tell Nina to watch how Tobi’s guiding all that extra fluid out of the area.”
Maybe it was just that Kevessa was more used to verbal communication than the mountain cat, but she was quicker to catch on than Tobi, and was able to convey that understanding to Nina. Tobi watched what Nina was doing and copied her. Josiah began to see real progress being made. The flashing lights settled into a regular pattern, and the sour odor shifted to a sweeter, citrusy scent.
At length, the dangerous swelling was mostly abated. Tobi and Nina shifted their efforts to healing the damage, which was less complicated and went quicker. When Sar was confident they understood what they were doing, he fell silent.
Josiah longed to collapse and close his eyes. Maybe if he slept for two or three days he’d feel better. He scooted back to give Kevessa, Nina, and Tobi more room.
The motion jarred his hip, and he bit back a cry. Between his intense focus on Elkan and Sar continuing to dampen the pain, he’d almost forgotten his own injury. He poked at the place with cautious fingers. Sar had said the bone was cracked. Maybe once Elkan was better he could take care of it. Or maybe other wizards would arrive soon. The sky was light grey now, and the eastern horizon was bright.
Sure enough, a few minutes later a group of wizards hurried down the dock. In their midst was Hanion. He was drenched, the Guildmaster’s cloak hanging in limp, dripping folds from his shoulders. He clutched Mavke in his arms. The bulldog squirmed and licked Hanion’s face.
They drew near enough for Josiah to hear what Hanion was saying. “His lungs were full of water by the time I managed to pull him up. After I got him to shore, I had to breathe for him. I didn’t know if—” Hanion paused to duck his head and nuzzle Mavke. The other wizards made sympathetic noises. “He finally coughed and started breathing on his own. It took a while before he was recovered enough to start working on the broken leg.”
Josiah pressed his lips together. He couldn’t fault Hanion for thinking of Mavke first. It sounded like his quick action had saved his familiar’s life. But he’d abandoned the rest of them in the middle of the fight.
Voices rose in dismay as the wizards caught sight of the cluster of people and animals at the end of the dock. They hurried forward. Several of them took over from Nina and Tobi. Josiah tried to edge out of their way. The motion sent a fresh burst of pain through his side, and he smothered a whimper.
Sar butted the nearest wizard in the ribs. She turned from her worried contemplation of Elkan, and Josiah recognized Master Todira. “What do you want, Sar?” Her brow furrowed deeper as she caught sight of Josiah, still clumsily attempting to move back, his face twisted into a grimace.
The owl on her shoulder flapped as she swiftly knelt beside him. “Lie back,” she admonished him. “We’ll have that fixed in a moment.”
Josiah slumped to the ground in relief, savoring the warm rush of comfort as the Mother’s power flowed over him and began healing the crack in his hipbone. This was the first time he’d been seriously injured since bonding with Sar. Part of him wanted to call Sar over so he could watch Todira and Night working and connect it to what he was feeling. But exhaustion won out over curiosity. He closed his eyes and let himself slip into a dazed fog.
Elkan’s voice jerked him back to full consciousness. “What happened?”
Josiah sat up. Only a little residual soreness remained in his hip, though Master Todira and Night were still concentrating on it. “I’m all right. Let me get up.”
“Not so fast. You know bone takes a while.” Josiah subsided before Todira’s mock scowl, but as a chorus of voices rose, interrupting and talking over each other in their attempts to answer Elkan’s question, he twisted impatiently in that direction.
Master Todira sat back on her heels, giving his hip a pat and reaching up to ruffle Night’s feathers. “That should hold. Just take it easy, and don’t go whacking it again any time soon.”
“I won’t.” Josiah scrambled to his feet, tentatively at first, then with more confidence as his leg bore his weight. Sar moved under his hand to support him. The donkey sent a momentary flash of the Mother’s power to scan the injury. Josiah could see the remains of the crack, a brick-red line against the solid brown of the bone. It had been bright yellow before.
His legs went rubbery and he sagged against Sar. The short rest hadn’t allowed them to recover much. He was glad when Sar let the light die. In a moment his limbs again felt capable of supporting his weight. He pushed between the crowding bodies and made his way to Elkan’s side.
His master was sitting with his arms wrapped around Tobi, who was intently licking his hand and trying to press her whole body against him, listening to the confused and fragmentary account of events being offered to him. Occasionally he nodded, though Josiah couldn’t understand how he could make any sense of the competing voices. Elkan’s eyes roamed the dock, taking in the smoking ruin of the hay wagon, Mathir held sullen and still between two watchers, Hanion still dripping, Gevan with his arms around Kevessa.
“We came running as soon as we spotted the fire. I’m sorry we couldn’t get here in time to stop him clocking you and the boy, but we managed to get a few arrows into him before he could take out your beastie.” The watcher gave a sharp nod.
Elkan stiffened. “Josiah?”
“I’m here, master. I’m fine.” The crowd parted to let Josiah through.
Elkan met Josiah’s eyes just long enough to give him a fleeting half-smile. Then he looked around again. “Where’s Tharan now?”
The watcher jerked his head. “We left him where he fell.”
Elkan put a hand to his head, where the injury had been a few minutes before. He pressed it there for a moment. Then he pushed himself to his feet, unsteadily at first, but with more confidence as his balance held. The crowd drew aside as he headed in the direction the watcher had indicated and knelt beside Tharan’s still form.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry it had to come to this.” He laid his hand on Tharan’s shoulder, careful to avoid the protruding arrows. “May the Mother—”
He went rigid. “He’s not dead! Didn’t anyone check?” He shot an accusing glare around the wizards in the crowd. “Tobi!”
Tobi bounded to his side. Gold light poured from his hand and washed over Tharan. “I think it’s not too late. He’s lost a lot of blood, and one lung is deflated, but the other’s still functioning.” He faltered, before swallowing and resuming. “An arrow penetrated his heart, but it’s still beating. It’s going to be tricky. Right now the arrow is sealing off the wound, but when we remove it we’ll have to keep tight control to heal the heart before he bleeds to death.”
Hanion waved at the crowd. “Get back, everyone. Watchers, please clear the area.” He stepped to Elkan’s side. “Let someone else take care of him. You’re barely recovered.”
Elkan shook his head. “I’m fine.” He bit his lip. “Although… I’d appreciate your help.”
Josiah ignored the watcher who was trying to herd him away. He ducked under the woman’s arm and darted to stand behind Elkan. Sar pushed by on her other side and came to stand beside him.
Gevan bent to speak into Kevessa’s ear, then also pushed past the watchers. They let him by at a nod from Hanion. As soon as his back was turned, Kevessa followed.
Gevan scowled at Elkan. “Let him die. If you hadn’t wasted time on this piece of garbage, none of this would have happened. We’d be long gone by now.”
Elkan shook his head. “I can’t.” He pulled his slender surgery knife from its sheath. “Hanion, if you’ll slow him and manage the blood, I’ll remove the arrow and heal the wall of the heart.”
Tharan stirred, moaning. Elkan laid a hand on his forehead. “Shh. Lie still. We’re going to heal you. Your wounds are serious, but the Mother’s power can—
Instead of calming, Tharan thrashed. “Nen! Nen hella mi. Nen visartha, nen mashikka, nen—” Abruptly he switched to Tevenaran. “No! No magic!”
Elkan held Tharan’s shoulders down until he subsided. “Please, be still. Any movement could cause the arrows to do more damage. We’ll have more energy to heal you if we don’t have to freeze you as well. I know the Mother’s power is strange to you, but there’s no reason to fear it. It won’t hurt, and it will be over in just a few minutes—”
“Don’t touch me again with your foul power! I’d rather die!” To Josiah’s astonishment, tears leaked from the assassin’s eyes as he closed them. “You’ve already corrupted me past any hope of cleansing,” he whispered. “Please don’t pollute me further.”
Elkan carefully sliced Tharan’s bloodstained tunic from around the arrow shafts. “I don’t understand why you’re so determined to end your life. I suppose you were ordered to kill yourself rather than reveal who sent you. But we won’t allow you to do that.” He poised his knife and looked around. “Hanion, Mavke, are you ready?”
The Guildmaster looked at his familiar and nodded. He sank to his knees on Tharan’s far side.
Elkan rested one hand on Tobi’s broad head. But no gold light bloomed from his other hand. He turned to the mountain cat, his brow creasing. “Tobi? What’s the matter?”
She fixed him with her amber eyes. Josiah couldn’t figure out why she was reluctant.
Sar? What’s going on?
There was an odd hesitation from his familiar.
The man refused healing. I think Tobi feels she must abide by his choice.
What? It can’t be the Mother’s will not to heal him. No matter what he wants.
Again Sar hesitated.
Under these circumstances, it may be. The man is an adult. He’s conscious and in full possession of his wits. He understands what he’s asking. His refusal endangers no one except himself. The Mother doesn’t force her gifts on the unwilling.
Josiah frowned. He could see Sar’s point, in a way. It felt wrong to think of Elkan silencing Tharan’s protests and proceeding to manipulate his body against his will. But it felt equally wrong to imagine him withholding the Mother’s power and watching Tharan die right there in front of them, when they could have saved him.
The conflict he felt was mirrored on Elkan’s face. His master bit his lip and turned away from Tobi’s steady gaze. “Tharan? You must let us use the Mother’s power to heal you. Your wounds are grave; they’ll kill you if we don’t.”
“No,” Tharan whispered. He stared at Elkan.