Page 76 of Storm to Victory
Releasing a breath, Fieran nodded. He’d learned a great deal about his magic this past year, and he likely wouldn’t have been able to hold to his magic so tightly if he hadn’t come to the place of owning it ashis. “Thanks.”
“Then unless you need something else…” Aaruk stood, making a motion toward the truck.
“Go on. Rest. Linshi.” Dacha waved toward the truck in a dismissal.
Aaruk climbed back into the truck, and it rocked on its tires as the ogre got settled.
Fieran smiled at Dacha. “See. I’m fine. I just need rest, that’s all. And this bandage changed.” He motioned to his wound, where the bandage was still fused.
After another moment of hesitation, Dacha reached for the bandage again. He was able to peel some of it away, but it was still rather stuck.
Sucking in a hiss of pain, Fieran gripped the truck’s running board with one hand, his other hand still holding his shirt out of the way. Perhaps he should find another piece of leather to bite.
Dacha sighed and shook his head. “I think I might have to incinerate it with my magic.”
“That would probably hurt a lot less than ripping it off.” Fieran squeezed his eyes shut and locked his magic deep within his chest. Even better, his dacha’s magic would sanitize the wound rather than leaving bits of bandage stuck to it.
The blue of his dacha’s magic flared, visible even through Fieran’s closed eyelids. When Dacha’s magic swept over Fieran’s wound, it was a familiar and comforting tingle rather than theburning of that morning, and it eased something both within his chest and in his muscles.
After a moment, the blue magic vanished, and Fieran opened his eyes. He swept a glance over the gash, now free of the bandage, before he met Dacha’s gaze.
Dacha’s eyes searched his face. “You did not flinch.”
“Of course not. I’m not afraid of your magic.” Fieran didn’t look away, hoping Dacha heard the depth in his words. Dacha had done what he needed to do to help Fieran by cauterizing the gash. That didn’t change how Fieran saw his dacha or his magic.
Dacha turned away first, busying himself with cleaning the wound. “It seems to be healing well. If only you could have had more of the healing magic.”
The rescued ogres had needed the healing magic more than Fieran had, and they’d divided it up between the worst of the injured.
“The little I had helped, I think.” Fieran swallowed back a cry of pain as Dacha touched a wet rag to the gash. He didn’t want to disturb Aaruk again nor risk any passersby hearing and coming to investigate. “How long do wounds take to heal without magic?”
“Much, much longer than a few days, I am afraid.” Dacha’s mouth pressed into a tight line, but he gave a little shrug, as if even he didn’t know how long it would be.
He likely didn’t. Neither of them had ever recovered from injuries without an elf healer stepping in. Fieran’s first aid training in the army had mostly consisted of how to deal with an injury until one could get the wounded person to a healer. There hadn’t been much on long-term wound care.
Funny how relative pain could become. After the whole dislocated magic thing and, even before that, crashing and breaking nearly every bone in his body, a little scratch like this was nothing.
Once Dacha had spread a salve, he wrapped a fresh bandage around Fieran’s middle.
Fieran let his shirt fall over the bandage again. “I can take first watch. I got a lot of sleep earlier, and I doubt I’ll fall asleep for a while yet.”
Dacha opened his mouth as if he wanted to protest. But then he sighed and nodded. “I will take the second watch. We will have only two watches tonight.”
That made sense. Aaruk needed rest and to regain his strength before they trusted him to stand watch at night.
As much as Pretty Face had trusted Aaruk, he was still a stranger. Neither Dacha nor Fieran would feel comfortable sleeping while he was on watch until they knew him better.
While Dacha returned the medical kit to the truck, then lay down on his bedroll beneath it, Fieran settled in more comfortably against the wheel, trying to ignore the ache in his freshly bandaged wound.
He tilted his face toward the sky, taking in the array of stars twinkling far overhead in the vast darkness.
Could Pip see the stars where she was at? Was she all right?
As Dacha had said, she was strong and capable. He had to trust that she would be fine.
That still didn’t make being separated from her while in an enemy kingdom any easier to take.
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