Colors of Atlantis by DD Adair

Author:DD Adair
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Spiral Path Press

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Carver

Carver concentrated on balancing Ahna’s small body while Lira talked Aiela into breathing. He’d never known that was possible, a bond so strong they shared sensation. What would that be like? To be so connected to another human. To be so loved by someone. He felt himself calming too, the adrenaline subsiding as he automatically began breathing along with Lira’s instructions.

It was near full-dark now and they were well away from the harbour town. The wagon banged along at a gallop, passing a thatch roofed home every now and then, but mostly they were alone on the pitted, hard-packed road. He leaned to put his ear closer to Ahna’s face, listening for her breath, relieved by the shallow waves of sound. Her body felt small and light on his lap. The outline of her reminded him of a little broken doll he’d once seen a child carrying around the streets of Temple City. Her thin legs and sandaled feet banged against him as the wagon swayed. He arranged her arms to a more comfortable looking position, careful with the delicate wrists and hands, keeping ahold of them to warm them up a bit. That’s what he told himself anyway. Later, he’d think about the irony of how badly he’d wanted to touch her since the first time he saw her, saying goodbye to her parents before boarding the seacruiser in Atlantis.

The Irish “Healing Temple” turned out to be a simple amoeba-like building close to the road. It was also clearly a home, and—judging by the smells and sounds of sheep—surrounded by a farm. Carver gathered Ahna’s prone form to his chest, scooting slowly to the lip of the wagon. Their young Irish driver was already returning from the building, leading a stocky man, who helped Carver lay Ahna onto a wool-bundled board. Together, they carried her inside, while Lira tried to tell the white-bearded Irishman what had happened and what she needed from him. None of which he understood, until Carver took over and translated, glad that he’d studied the Irish language once Mardu assigned this errand.

The surgery was a small room, with a padded table down the middle, and whitewashed walls of baked clay. Rather modern for Ireland. But since sea travel had become common, the coastal towns were known for modernizing due to a transient population from all over the world visiting, and sometimes settling. The Driver had hurried ahead to light four giant oil lamps that made the small room glow with a pearly and comforting light.

Aiela was still clutching Ahna’s bloody hand, stubbornly in everyone’s way.

Lira took her shoulders. “Aiela, please go into the other room and give us space to work. Your sister will be fine, I promise. You must trust me. Carver, I need you to stay and translate so I can communicate with this good healer.”

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