Dragon of Fire by Steve Turnbull

Author:Steve Turnbull [Turnbull, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tau Press 2020 Ltd
Published: 2024-01-20T00:00:00+00:00

It was worse when she returned to consciousness. Every part of her was compressed. Her right leg throbbed.

The surface beneath her shifted.

“Now I will die,” she said, her voice barely more than a croak. There was dampness around her but no water flowed to her mouth.

She dropped a hands-breadth and groaned in agony as her leg moved. But there was less pressure from above.

Voices.

If she could have screamed she would have as she fell abruptly, the rocks gone from beneath her. Something soft slid above her and she felt the hot breath of a dragon.

“Hold it, Copper, do not let it fall.”

Feathers flowed across her back and legs. She whimpered as something moved her leg.

“Get a light in here! Something’s wrong.” She knew the voice but could not recall who it belonged to.

Whether it was instant or eternity later, she saw a flickering of yellow beyond her closed eyes.

“Mother’s milk,” said another voice she knew. “Splints and something to bind it.”

“Keep holding, Copper.”

She heard rocks groaning.

“How does it do that?” A voice she did not know.

Something happened around her right leg and she passed out from the pain. Perhaps it was not a long time before she regained a semblance of consciousness again.

“Alert the chirurgeon, it may need to come off, the foot is black. I’ve bound them both together for now.”

No, I need it, how can I tumble without it?

“Ready? As many hands as we can.”

She felt them touching her body.

“Mistress, we are going to pull you out now.”

But I’m beneath Copper’s wing, there’s no safer place.

“On three.” They counted up and suddenly she was moving fast. Her body assaulted her with random agony.

Then there was daylight and she was lying on her back. Above her a vaulted ceiling but all out of focus and blurred by the grit in her eyes.

“Copper, she is safe.”

She heard talons on stone then a thundering crash and the air filled with dust. Many people coughed.

“Sit her up.” That was Chakeera.

A cup was pressed to her lips.

“Drink.”

Fruit juice and something with a bitter taste. She coughed and spluttered. The woman held the cup away for a moment then brought it back. “Drink it all.”

She was thirsty and the drink was welcome.

The pains in her body receded. Someone wiped the dirt from her face with a wet cloth.

“Will she live?” That was Lady Corlain.

“If she survives the saw.”

Miralees tried to speak but only succeeded in coughing up filthy phlegm which Chakeera wiped away.

“Stay quiet, mistress, the chirurgeon has great skill and the herbs will keep the pain away.”

Miralees shook her head. “No,” she croaked. Her breath was short and something hurt in a strange distant way when she breathed in. “Yel—” came out barely above a whisper.

She saw Copper to her right, his massive bulk incongruous in the room. He had dust across his body but he was curled up watching her.

Her view was blocked by whiteness.

“Mistress.” Yelantera crouched down.

“Water.”

Chakeera put the cup to her lips again and tipped it up. She spluttered weakly. “Six, water, six.

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