Riders of Fire Books 1-3: Ezaara, Dragon Hero, Dragon Rift (Riders of Fire Box Set) by Eileen Mueller

Author:Eileen Mueller [Mueller, Eileen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Phantom Feather Press
Published: 2020-04-15T22:00:00+00:00

On Fire

Marlies was burning. Everything was fire. The cave, her arm, her head. Groggily, she sipped some water, then fell back to sleep. Her instincts screamed at her to cleanse and dress her arm, but she was tired, so tired.

The walls spinning, she drifted off again.

§

Hans enfolded Marlies in his arms. It was so warm and comforting. She melted against him. But he was burning, licked by dragon flame.

No, her whole world was burning, filled with flame and fire.

Her skin was about to burst apart.

§

Marlies was damp with sweat. Her arm was on fire, hot and puffy.

She still hadn’t cleaned her wound. How long had she slept?

It was still daytime … no, she’d woken a couple of times in pitch black, so it had been night at some stage. Perhaps it was the next day? Or the day after? Shards, she must be sick if she couldn’t tell what day it was. She sat on her bedding and pulled a vial of dragon’s breath out of her rucksack to light the cave.

The makeshift bandage on her arm was covered in yellow crusted pus. Gods, she could’ve been out for days. She peeled the filthy bandage off her arm, gasping as it stuck to her flesh. The wound was red and swollen, festering. It didn’t matter how tired and dizzy she was, if she didn’t treat it, she would never get to Death Valley—or back to her family.

Marlies grimaced. She’d come so far. She was on Zens’ doorstep, only a few hours away, and here she was, useless.

Her forehead was burning and her hands cold—sure signs that her fever was building again. She needed to make a feverweed tisane and brew some clean herb, but with only one candle and mug, she couldn’t brew two things at once. Marlies settled for chewing feverweed leaves, not as effective as tea, and warming crushed clean-herb in a cup over the candle. It was best hot, but Marlies didn’t have the luxury of time; she had to act before the next wave of fever hit her. It was a shame piaua wouldn’t work on infections. A shame she hadn’t cleaned and treated her wound when it had happened.

When the clean-herb was lukewarm, Marlies dipped a cloth in it and wiped out her wound, gritting her teeth to stop herself from crying out as she removed crusted pus and scabs. Her wound had swollen so much the hot red skin around it was tight and shiny. It hurt like molten metal. She let it bleed, hoping to purge the wound, then cleaned it some more.

Marlies threw the dirty bandage into a corner and washed her hands with the rest of the clean-herb. Shivering again, she bandaged her arm and got dressed again. She bit some hard flatbread, but it tasted like wood.

She wasn’t hungry anyway, so she burrowed back into her bedding and dozed off.

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