Shovia appeared at my side, her face streaked with dirt and what might have been blood. "There's another one over here who needs more help than I can provide."
I grabbed fresh bandages from Gran's depleting supply and followed her. We'd fallen into a rhythm, working together to treat those we could, while trying not to think too hard about those we couldn't. We marked those who were beyond help with a white bandage tied over one wrist, creating a bow on top to ensure no one mistook it for an injury. The medics needed to attend to the living first, and the dead were in no hurry. Their souls were free and being comforted on the other side of the veil, and the bodies they had left behind were of no more importance to them than the clothes they no longer needed.
So far, I hadn't seen anyone that I recognized, and I selfishly hoped that I wouldn't. Somewhere in Elucia, the families of the fallen would be mourning them, their lives forever shattered by the loss, and my heart ached for their pain.
"Has anyone seen Morek?" I asked as we knelt beside our next patient, a young man with a nasty gash on his thigh.
"No," Shovia said. "But I'm sure he's fine. You know him. He's probably out there being heroic, helping carry wounded to the infirmary or clearing debris or something."
I nodded, wanting to believe that. I was also worried about his family, but I hadn't seen them arriving at the square, so they might have been late and missed the explosions.
"This needs stitches," Gran said, crouching beside us to examine the wound. "But for now, we'll bind it tight and get him to the infirmary where it can be properly cleaned." She turned to the young man. "You're lucky. It looks worse than it is. No major vessels were damaged."
With the guards coordinating rescue efforts, the scene was gradually becoming more organized, but the destruction was still overwhelming. The planters where the bombs had been hidden were now big craters, and parts of the square looked like they'd been hit by dragon fire.
My gaze drifted to where Alar and Codric were working with several Elucian men to lift a section of the collapsed stage, and the sight made my blood run cold as I realized what the Shedun had attempted and nearly succeeded in doing.
"They were trying to kill him," I whispered to Shovia.
She looked up from the bandage she was tying. "They were trying to kill as many of us as they could. That's why they planted the explosives all around the square."
"They were after Saphir." I looked at the destroyed stage. "That's where he would have been standing if the ceremony had started. We were so lucky that the explosives were triggered prematurely."
I doubted that Chicha's discovery had caused them to go off sooner than planned. It was probably the usual incompetence of the Shedun. Generations of inbreeding and ritual drug use had resulted in compromised brains, which made it easy for their leaders to manipulate them, but also worked in our favor.
Still, those responsible for planning this operation had been frighteningly smart. Somehow, they managed to circumvent our defenses and plant explosives ahead of the sacred blessing ceremony.
The implications were terrifying. Without our shaman, how would new riders be chosen? Who would interpret Elu's will for our people?
"Dear Elu," Shovia breathed, understanding dawning. "They weren't just trying to kill pilgrims. They were trying to destroy everything we are."
"Without Saphir, we'd lose our connection to the dragons within a generation," Gran said. "No new riders would be chosen, and we would become like the Elurians, provided that we survived."
She didn't say that to be unkind to the Elurians. There was nothing wrong with their way of life. Their interpretation of Truth had grown lax over the generations. Still, they were prosperous and cultured, and they had taken in Elucian refugees after the last big war, saving us from total annihilation. Then they helped the survivors return to their ancestral land, supplying them with goods, weapons, and expertise to get started.
The thing was, Elurians didn't have bonds with dragons. They didn't need a spiritual leader to bridge the gap between human and dragon consciousness.
A guard walked over to us, nodding respectfully to Gran. "The medics are asking us to clear out. They're evacuating the serious cases to the infirmary and setting up proper treatment stations for the others."
"We're not done here," Gran protested.
The medics were better equipped to handle the injuries, and the wounded would do better with proper medical attention, but I was worried that there might not be enough of them.
"What if more people are found trapped?" I looked at Alar and his team, who were still clearing debris. "We should stay until we're sure we are not needed."
The guard glanced at the medics, who were busy attending to the wounded at the triage area. "Okay. You can stay a little longer."
"Do you know what is going to happen with the pilgrimage?" Shovia asked.
Good question. We were all covered in dirt, the square was destroyed, and our town was still reeling from the attack.
"I don't know," the guard admitted. "Turn on your televisions when you get home. They will probably announce the plans later."
Once he walked away, I looked around at the devastation. It didn't feel like we had done enough.
Nothing felt like enough in the face of what the Shedun had tried to do. They hadn't just attacked our town—they'd struck at the very heart of what made us Elucian.
The realization that Skywatcher's Point wasn't as safe as we'd thought was bad enough, but the knowledge that the Shedun had come so close to destroying our entire way of life made me so furious that my hands started shaking.
