Page 68 of Burdened Bonds
The dragon growls very very softly and I’m contemplating that one of those options might be my fate after all, when the creature inhales, sucking in my scent and making my hair rustle around my face.
Then she lays her head back down on the rocky ground and I release my breath, Renzo swearing behind me.
I take a step towards the dragon, then another and another. She watches me move closer, but she doesn’t appear to mind and soon I’m standing right beside her with a much better view of the wounds. It’s not as deep or as fatal as the wound I healed on Winnie. It’s not as deadly as the one Tristan took to his body, the memory of it making me wince – but it is weeping, and closer now I can see a great tear in one of her wings. She can’t fly, with her broken leg she can’t walk. And that wound will slowly turn septic and eventually kill her.
“She’s beautiful,” Renzo says, coming to stand beside me again.
And she is. Even in her injured state she is truly magnificent.
“I’m going to touch you now,” I tell her, raising my hand towards her.
“Careful,” Renzo advises.
I edge my hand closer. The dragon’s eyes stare fixedly on my hand. I move it closer still and then closer some more until I’m hovering my hand right above her scales. Then with a steadying breath, I touch her.
Immediately she’s snapping up her head again and growling but I hold my ground, refusing to move and fixing on her with a determined gaze.
“I’m going to help you.” Her scales are cool to the touch and I don’t know if that’s the way this giant lizard should be, or whether her injuries have caused her temperature to drop. The scales themselves are not rough as I expected, but to my surprise they’re like the softest of leather.
I close my eyes and allow my magic to seep slowly into her body, soothing, numbing magic that has the dragonsighing in relief, her taut body relaxing under my touch. Her body feels different to bodies I’ve healed before, different from Pip’s, and it’s not just the sheer size of the creature. It’s something more. There’s magic in her body, and it seems to respond to mine, to recognize mine. It’s familiar, similar, moving to my command.
“She’s big, little rabbit. Healing her is going to take a big chunk of your magic.”
I shake my head. I don’t think it will. I search out the wound on her body first and get to work knitting together the scales, mending the ripped tissues and blood vessels. Her magic responds, following mine and doing the same.
“It’s working,” Renzo says.
I move on to her leg. Her thigh bone is snapped clean in half. I wonder what happened to her. Did she crash into the mountain? Was she wounded in that battle?
I concentrate on fixing the bone. Despite the size of that wound, the bone is much harder to mend. I need to line it up, ensure it’s straight and bone proves harder to encourage to grow. Soon, my eyes are screwed tight and there’s sweat on my brow despite the coolness of the air.
“Easy,” Renzo whispers, his hand resting on my shoulder, his presence, his magic giving me the renewed strength I need to continue. I don’t know how much longer I work, but eventually I’m satisfied and fall back, panting, Renzo catching me in his arms.
The dragon stares at me and opens out her torn wing, fluttering it.
“Yeah, yeah, give her a break,” Renzo growls, and the dragon folds in its wing and drops her head to rest on her front legs.
“I don’t need a rest,” I insist, reaching out to touch her again.
“You do,” Renzo says, taking a hold of my wrist and dragging me back to where we’ve left Pip and our bags. He pulls out the water bottle and one of the dried bits of meat, and insists I drink and eat. I flop down on the floor and start to chug down water.
The dragon watches me and then something catches her attention. Pip. She shuffles forward, leaning her head towards my pig, her eyes alert and … am I seeing that right? … hungry!
I jump to my feet and lift my hands.
“He’s not on the menu,” I warn her. I don’t care how big this dragon is, how beautiful she may be, if she tries to torch Pip, then I am going to blast her with every ounce of power I possess.
Pip lifts his head feebly and blinks his eyes, jolting slightly when he finds a giant dragon bearing down on him. He grunts and then to my surprise, lifts his snout towards the dragon. The dragon responds, lowering her head closer.
My magic sparks on my fingers and my heart leaps clean out of my chest and into my throat.
“Pip!” I hiss.
This isn’t a friendly pup. It’s not a smart-assed chicken. It’s a dragon. Beside her, Pip looks like a speck of dust.
He doesn’t seem to hear me, or maybe he’s just being his obstinate self and ignoring me altogether, because he lifts his head higher still and presses his snout against the dragon’s nose. The dragon focuses her eyes and Pip does the same.
“Are they communicating?” Renzo asks.
