Page 113 of Silver Claws, Crimson Tears
—I would never let you fall.
—Take me back, Zephyros,I whisper, pressing my cheek against his cool hide, my heartbeat gradually slowing to match the steady rhythm of his wings.
Zephyros lands outside the fort gates, his massive claws barely making a sound as they touch down. I slide from his back, my legs buckling beneath me. The world tilts sideways before I catch myself against his shoulder.
“Medics!” Commander Voltguard’s voice cuts through the chaos as she strides toward us through the gates.
Two young medics rush to my side. One comes with a stretcher, while one starts examining my injuries. I hiss through clenched teeth as she peels the torn fabric away from the injury.
The one examining says, “Deep lacerations, but no major arteries hit. She’s lucky.”
“Lucky?” I bark out a laugh that sends pain shooting through my ribs. “Is that what we’re calling it when harpies breach our supposedly impenetrable fortress? I don’t feel lucky.”
Voltguard’s face darkens. “How did they get past our patrols?” She’s asking herself more than me, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Screechclaws never attack the fort directly. Never. They target villages, civilians, and lately… supply lines.”
“Well, they made an exception today.” I wince as the medic guides me to lie on the stretcher. “And they weren’t trying to kill me. They were abducting me.”
Voltguard’s sharp eyes glare at me. “Are you certain?”
“They had plenty of chances to gut me. Instead, they coordinated to carry me away.”
Commander Voltguard’s frown deepens into furrows that carve valleys across her forehead. I know exactly what she’s thinking, because I’m thinking it too. Another abduction attempt? This can’t be a coincidence. Her eyes narrow to slits. The animosity radiating from her is almost tangible, crackling in the air between us like static. I can practically read the calculation running behind those hard brown eyes. She’s asking herself if I’m worth all this trouble.
A murdered Neutro. A year-long disappearance. A wasted dragon. A dramatic return. A trial interrupted by royal decree. And now Screechclaws breaching her fort just to snatch me away. Yes, things aren’t adding up for her. Except she can’t get rid of me. Not when, in her judgment, I’m working for the King.
Once I’m on the stretcher, the medics lift me with surprising gentleness.
Commander Voltguard steps aside. “I’ll need a full report on her injuries,” she tells them.
“Yes, Commander.”
She turns and heads back into the fort. “In the meantime, I’m going to find out exactly how those damn Screechclaws got past our patrol. Someone’s head will roll for this breach.”
38
Rhea
The medics carry me through the infirmary doors. Sandtide stands waiting, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as they bring me in.
“Back so soon?” she asks.
I open my mouth to reply, but exhaustion crashes over me in a wave. The fire that kept me going has drained away, leaving nothing but bone-deep weariness and throbbing pain. My throat feels like I’ve swallowed sand.
“Get her on bed three,” Sandtide instructs. “Kaela, you stay in case there are any torn muscles or broken bones.”
The medic with the Dune patch on her shoulder nods as I move to the bed. The transfer sends fresh pain shooting through my shoulder. I wince.
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” I mutter through gritted teeth.
“We’ll be the judge of that,” Sandtide replies, cutting away what remains of my torn clothes with a pair of sharp scissors. “Let’s clean this. Harpy claws are filthy. Even shallow wounds can fester if not properly treated.”
Kaela shifts from foot to foot, nervous energy practically radiating off her. “Commander Voltguard said she wants a full report on her injuries.”
Sandtide only grunts. Kaela walks to a cabinet then comes back with a tray full of medical supplies. Sandtide takes a good look at my shoulder wound, prodding the edges with careful fingers. Each touch sends lightning bolts of pain through my body.
“That’s deep,” Sandtide says, “tore to some muscle for sure.” She nods to Kaela. “Give her the numbing agent.”
I try to look at my own shoulder but can’t see much beyond angry red flesh and blood. “How bad?”
