Drekki must sense my unease, he nuzzles me between the shoulder blades, hard enough that it almost causes me to take a step forward to keep my balance.
I clench my teeth and straighten my shoulders as if that act will somehow give me the strength to do what needs to be done. I turn to the shivering captive and purse my lips. “Flex your fingers and your arm muscles. It will help you warm up faster if you get your blood flowing.”
As I say the wordblood,I notice a dark stain on the fabric I tied around the sleeve of his tunic. “You’re bleeding.”
He starts a bit and glances down at his arm. “Oh, yes, it seems I am. I suppose I must have jostled it and torn the skin again.”
I recall him being wounded when I first captured him. I suppose I had not thought he would live long enough for the wound to ever pose him a threat, but it will need to be treated now.
I step toward him, grasping his arm. I must grab too close to the wound because he flinches. I turn to Tira who is watching me with her arms crossed. “You go on ahead. I will catch up when I have taken care of this.”
Tira shakes her head. “You can’t stall forever, Laduga.”
I narrow my eyes. “I’m not stalling, but he looks pale. It will do us no good if he faints.”
Tira arches a brow, the corner of her lips turns up as she takes in the Imperial’s almost copper skin tone which is much darker than our own. “Pale, hmm, yes. I think I see it.”
She turns, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Very well, I’ll go on ahead. Don’t keep me waiting though.”
I don’t bother sparing her a glance as I squint down at the cut on the imperial’s arm.
“For the record,” he says, flinching as I pull back the cloth and sections of his tunic that have dried against his skin with the blood. “I am in no danger of fainting.”
I frown as I take in the red flesh surrounding what looks like three deep cuts and the way the rest of the skin around it is pale and swollen. It certainly looks like it hurts, and I would almost not fault him for fainting because of it.
“Did a wolf do this?” I ask, taking in what appears to be claw marks.
“Yeah, nasty thing.” He grimaces as I turn away, glancing to the ground, my eyes scanning over the plants growing nearby.
I spot it near the road next to Drekki’s claw a small heart shaped leaf attached to the ground by a single stalk. Theheart rootas the Werma called it, I remember from the lessons that she gave me when I was a child that the root contains a myriad of healing properties. The juice in the leaf doesn’t just soothe, it also kills all infections.
I bend over, plucking a few of the leaves. I pop them into my mouth so that I can use my saliva to make a paste out of them. But suddenly something sweeps out, knocking into my ankle. I have to widen my stance to keep from falling over.
As I do so I feel a shift in my sheath as it lightens, I whip my head, realizing too late that I left myself too exposed. Marcello is holding my ax with the blade toward my neck.
“Donotmove,” he barks at Worm who lets out a low growl. Drekki snarls and snaps at him. He turns his wild gaze to me. “Tell them not to move or I will slice you.”
I pause on chewing the heart shaped leaf and arch my brow. I don’t know whether to feel impressed that he had the guts to pull out my own ax and threaten me with it in the presence of my dragons. Or to be disappointed in myself for allowing my enemy’s bound and wounded nature and my dragon’s presence to lull me into a false sense of security.
I hold up my hand in a gesture to pacify my dragons before I level Marcello with a hard look, wondering what he plans on doing next now that he has me in this position.
He seems to be wondering the same thing. I watch as some of the panic clears in his eyes and clarity enters them as he glances around. “Now, I—I don’t want to harm you.”
“That’s a mistake,” I say, the words coming out slurred by the mess of leaves and saliva in my mouth.
I lunge forward, grasping the ax handle above where his hand is resting. I shove it to the side as I sidestep, raising my knees and delivering a blow to his nether region.
Marcello drops like a stone, and I pounce on top of him.
I straddle him, pinning his arm to the ground with my knee until his hand is forced to release my ax. I bat it out of reach and then spit the paste into my hand and slap it onto his arm. He lets out a slight hissing sound.
“Never point a blade at someone unless you have the intention of actually using it.” I allow my fingers to dig into the wound a bit and he grimaces. “And if you threaten me again, Iwillend you.”
I push to my feet, grasping my ax and shoving it into my sheath. Worm moves closer to Marcello, snapping his teeth to show his displeasure.
Marcello shies away, and I roll my eyes. And yet I can’t help feeling a little impressed. Despite his botched effort, I have to admire his guts to threaten me. In front of my dragons no less. It screams of a certain sort of bravery and gutsiness… or perhaps just desperation. Either way it leaves me thinking that perhaps this Marcello isn’t quite a passive victim. “Get to your feet,” I say looking away before he can read any of that in my gaze. “The Werma is waiting to see us.”
Chapter Eight
