Change of Edict Page 12

  On her back, Genlie clutched hard at Siray’s mane as she leaned forwards, pressing both her and Baindan’s body as flat as possible against Siray’s withers and shoulders, both to narrow their profile and to avoid the sand that was being flung at them from their companions’ feet.

  Siray continued to push herself faster and faster as her desperation increased, but as she stole more glances behind her, she realised that speed alone wasn’t going to save her.

  It wasn’t going to save any of them.

  The sandstorm Deson had spotted on the horizon, and which his cry had alerted them to, was moving too fast to be outrun.

  Ahead of her, Siray could see Wexner, Kovi, and Tamot still running.

  But there was nothing in front of them but more sand.

  Siray tossed her head in fear as she ran and stretched her legs with every step to try to cover more ground. But injured as she was, her strength had rapidly begun to fade.

  That was when the male appeared from nowhere.

  ***

  He popped up a hundred paces ahead of Wexner, Kovi, and Tamot, who, in their surprise, almost ran past him. He was wearing clothes that seemed chosen to blend into the sand, along with high boots and a length of cloth around his neck. His upper face was hidden behind another piece of cloth and a pair of goggles, so nothing much could be ascertained about him as he waved both his arms in the air at them.

  Still behind the others, Siray saw he was yelling something and pointing to the ground at his feet at intervals, and by the time she was a couple of body lengths away, he had moved them all into a line and was gesturing for her to hurry.

  Deson had landed to one side of the others, tucking his wings in as he took the place pointed out for him.

  Coming in at speed, Siray half slid into the spot that the male had directed her to and then turned to watch as he ran back to the middle of their line.

  ‘Oh, Great Mother jungle …’

  Genlie’s words drew Siray’s attention out to the dark wall of sand that was fast approaching their position. It was easily the height of a mountain and appeared to stretch the length of desert she could see.

  She looked desperately at the male who was now squatting down in the sand, doing something at his feet near Kovi.

  As the wall of sand bore down upon them, Siray felt the ground shudder beneath her feet, and she turned her head away from the onrushing force of the deadly storm.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE FURIOUS SOUND of the sand blasting away around her faded, and Siray almost dared to believe that it could be over that soon. Raising her large head up, she opened her eyes and couldn’t stop a soft snort of surprise from escaping.

  She and her friends appeared to be in some sort of silver room.

  A shudder beneath her feet made Siray curve her long red neck down to look at the floor. And she realised—it wasn’t a room but a riser. Angling her head to look upwards, she saw that a clear ceiling had moved into place above them to shield them from the sandstorm that still raged across the desert overhead, while the platform they were on continued to sink farther into the structure around them.

  Siray closed her good eye and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Then she quickly looked around in apology as her breath came out in a long, loud huff. Still a yeibon, she reminded herself tiredly.

  Kovi, Wexner, and Deson had Changed back into their normal forms, but Tamot was still in his yeibon form, even though Loce and Jorgi had dismounted. From where she stood, it appeared that Tamot was too stunned at their narrow escape to do anything just yet, his eyes wide and staring.

  Soon the riser came to a stop with a small jolt in front of a large pair of silver doors. After a moment of silence, during which Siray and Tamot shifted nervously, the doors retracted slowly to either side.

  They all froze.

  A number of males and females ringed the immediate area around the open doors, bows raised and arrows notched, ready to fire.

  The male who had accompanied them down on the riser walked out quietly without a backwards glance.

  Another older-looking male stepped forwards.

  ‘I’m sorry to have to greet you all like this, but it’s a necessary security precaution, given what’s happened.’

  Wexner stepped forwards, his eyes wary. ‘Where are we?’

  The male’s eyes took Wexner in from head to toe before he answered. ‘You’re at the Gonron Facility.’ He peered closer at them all. ‘And I’m greatly interested to learn how you knew where to find us.’

  Wexner shook his head. ‘I didn’t know. But he did.’ Without taking his eyes off the unfamiliar male, Wexner tilted his head and gestured towards Baindan, who was still slumped unconscious on top of Siray’s shoulders. ‘And, although I’m sure you’d like to know more, we’re not telling you anything else until we receive some attention from your healers.’ Wexner pulled his shoulders back, looking the other male square in the eye.

  Beside Siray, Tamot’s black form tensed a little.

  But the male merely smiled. ‘Of course.’ He waved his hand slightly where it rested at his side, and the weapons pointed at Siray and the others were lowered. The group around the male parted, and a number of other softer-looking males and females came forwards. The male gestured to the figures passing him. ‘They will see to your injuries now.’

  Wexner nodded stiffly at the male and then turned away.

  Siray felt like huffing at his poor manners—typical Wexner—but Deson was already in front of her urging her to follow him. He guided her from the riser’s platform, and once there was sufficient space, two healers garbed in pale-grey clothing helped him lift Baindan from Siray’s back and onto a stretcher. Genlie had already dismounted in the riser.

  It was a funny thing, but before they moved Baindan, Siray would have said she felt fine. But moving those couple of steps off the riser and into the room, and knowing that they had all made it safely to one of the new Resistance sites, seemed to make her legs feel … weak. As she watched Baindan being carried away on the stretcher, her good eye began to feel heavy and the room before her tilted, making her dizzy. She stumbled as she tried to keep her footing in this strangely unstable place, and the faint words of people close by drifted to her.

  Not that what they were saying made much sense to her.

  ‘Woah! Steady there!’ a male said.

  ‘This one’s lost a lot of blood … was it all from the leg?’ A concerned female voice. ‘No, wait, she’s injured here too.’

  A kindly-looking male approached her, holding out his hands, but although Siray watched him, his words came fuzzily to her. Then the room tilted the other way, and she wobbled once more, gasps sounding around her.

  The male signalled the female healer and then waved to Deson.

  Taking some quick breaths, Siray just managed to make out his words.

  ‘She’ll need to Change back,’ the male healer urged Deson.

  ‘I know, but she’s exhausted,’ Deson explained.

  The healer glanced at Siray, just as the floor tilted annoyingly one more time, and then back to Deson. ‘If she doesn’t Change, we might lose her.’

  Deson’s face paled, and he nodded. He hurried to stand before Siray, positioning himself in front of her good eye.

  Part of Siray’s mind, the part that wasn’t numb and floating, thought Deson looked worried. But it was like the rest of her mind didn’t care, and her eyes drifted from him. But she did wish the floor wouldn’t move like that; it was so hard to keep her balance.

  Something rested against her cheek, and Siray rolled her head around to see what it was.

  Deson was holding a hand to the uninjured side of her face. ‘Okay, Siray. These people are going to look after you. But they need you to Change first.’

  Siray lowered her head a little and blinked slowly with her good eye.

  Deson’s voice dropped, and Siray felt her ears flick forwards to catch all his words. ‘I know you’re exhausted. I know you’re hurting. Just do
this one last thing, Siray. Then you can rest.’

  Siray rebelled at the thought of having to Change. She knew the pain would increase, and she didn’t want to feel that. She really just wanted to lay down and sleep.

  But Deson’s eyes were imploring, and when he lifted his hand from her cheek to stroke it, he whispered, ‘Please, Siray. Do it for me.’

  Siray felt his words in her core. Deson wasn’t going to rest until she did. She gave a gentle snort. For him, she would do this.

  She reached inside herself and found that she had to search harder than ever before for that place of power, but she finally found it. Even then, it was like trying to catch hold of something slippery. But once she had it, she held on to that feeling with all her might, a little voice within telling her not to let go, no matter how tired she was.

  A moment later, pain engulfed her, and the world went quiet as her hearing disappeared once more.

  The room around her tilted in its most violent way yet, and it was still spinning when darkness took it away.

  ***

  Siray awoke. Slowly. First, she was aware of a light—a point of brightness on her eyelids that she wanted to turn her face from. Then she could hear jumbled sounds, none of which made sense to hear foggy mind. A moment later came the most unsettling feeling of all: someone squeezed her hand, and Siray opened her eyes. Or tried to. One wouldn’t open at all and felt heavy, so she gave that one up and pried open the other.

  It took a couple of blinks until what she was seeing managed to resolve itself into something that made sense.

  Gleaming metal walls rose up across from her. Lights that seemed pulse to her eyes were fixed high in the ceiling above.

  She looked down and saw that she was in some kind of bed, her upper body propped up by pillows. There was also a wire that snaked from a point near her right side, over the sheets, up her chest, and up to her head. Siray tried to sit up a little so she could see more, and follow the path of that wire, but the bedsheets were tucked in so tightly around her that Siray had to struggle to raise herself.

  Actually, she just struggled in general. Her strength, it seemed, had abandoned her, and her efforts only resulted in a groan as ripples of pain spread through her body.

  Someone brushed her left hand again, and Siray let her chin drop to her left, still disoriented, as she tried to see who had hold of her hand. Even that movement meant she had to turn her head completely so she could see with her good eye.

  But when she saw who it was, she gave a small, tired smile. At least, she smiled with the half of her face that didn’t hurt.

  Baindan smiled back. He was close by in a patient bed of his own, and his chest was wrapped in bandages. ‘Welcome back,’ he said.

  Siray gave another slight tilt of her mouth and sunk farther down into her pillows, keeping her head turned towards him. Baindan was safe.

  Something in her chest eased.

  ‘This might seem like a stupid question,’ he started, ‘but how do you feel?’

  Siray swallowed to wet her throat so she could respond. She ended up coughing twice before she could actually speak. ‘Not too bad,’ she lied, her voice raspy.

  ‘Sure,’ Baindan said, then, ‘Just wait a moment, the healers will be here soon to check on you.’

  Siray gave a small nod. But then she once more spied the wire snaking up to her head and, seeing Baindan had a similar wire going up to where a thin crown-like object circled around his own hair, she touched the wire and rasped, ‘What is this?’

  ‘That’s how they monitor us. From that they can see how our minds and bodies are functioning. It’s not as good as the tech in the cities, but it’s a close second. So don’t go pulling it off unless you want tons of people rushing in here.’

  Siray looked around the room again. It was a long but narrow room, containing four beds on one side, two of which were occupied by Baindan and herself, the rest empty. Once more, her focus was drawn to her closed eye, and she tentatively reached up to feel where bandages had been placed over that side of her face, around her left eye and down over her cheekbone. She had just made contact with the edge of one bandage, and Baindan was opening his mouth to say something else, when the swish of a door receding announced someone entering their room. She turned her head to look, the movement causing her some dizziness.

  It wasn’t one, but two people. An older, thin male and a slightly younger-looking female. Both wore grey coats, and the female wheeled in a small trolley, bringing it right up to Siray’s side.

  She smiled when she saw that Siray was awake. ‘Hello, Siray. I’m Porda, and this is Nafren. We’re the healers that have been assigned to you.’

  Nafren held up a transparent, round cup so Siray could see it and, picking up a silver jug from the trolley, poured a clear liquid into it. Placing the jug back onto the trolley while Porda helped her to sit up higher, he handed Siray the cup as soon as she was settled against her pillows once more.

  Eager for the feel of water on her tongue, Siray reached thirstily for the cup, then flushed when her hands began shaking the moment the drink was in her hands.

  ‘It’s okay,’ said Porda, noticing Siray’s embarrassment. ‘The shakes will pass once we get you hydrated again.’

  Siray nodded silently and focused on carefully guiding the cup the rest of the way to her lips. That achieved, she took a small swallow and then closed her right eye in relief as the moisture tickled down her throat.

  After which she promptly bent forwards and began coughing again.

  Nafren quickly took the cup from her hands as her chest worked, which was a good thing, as each hacking cough made her wince as pain erupted in her side.

  ‘Easy now,’ said Nafren. ‘Would you like some more to drink?’

  Siray grimaced at the thought of more coughing, but she nodded. She was thirsty.

  Nafren handed the cup to her again, and this time, Siray managed to get some down, with only minor spluttering, before she handed it back.

  ‘So. You came to us in quite a mess,’ said Porda, smiling down at Siray.

  Whether she was just pleased to see her patient awake and doing well, or happy that she had posed such a challenge to their healing skills, Siray didn’t know.

  ‘A serious laceration on your upper arm, smaller lacerations to the left side of your face, and a puncture wound just below your ribs on your back, left side,’ continued Porda, shaking her head incredulously. ‘And then you almost killed yourself running in that condition from the sandstorm.’

  ‘But,’ Nafren interjected, patiently, ‘you’re probably most concerned about your eye.’

  His words made Siray remember how she had received the injury, and she nodded carefully, tensing. ‘Is it … useless?’

  If it was, she would be a liability in any future battles.

  ‘Useless? No, no. From what we can tell currently, it remains undamaged.’

  Siray let her head drop back onto her pillows and sighed in relief. She would be okay then. She could still fight with the others. But she already hated not being able to see from that side.

  Nafren continued his survey of her, gesturing. ‘It appears that the lacerations to that side of your face missed your eye, but only just. Hence, that side of your face swelled and you lost conscious control over the muscles that work the lid of that eye.’

  Porda leaned forwards. ‘We’ve managed to subdue most of the swelling and have treated the lacerations, but you may be left with some scarring.’

  Siray tensed, worried. Her face seemed to flush hot on the left side, but she gave a small nod anyway before forcing the resulting images to the back of her mind. She would worry about that later.

  ‘When will I be able to walk around?’ she asked.

  ‘Well,’ said Nafren, crossing his arms as he considered her. ‘As to that, it should be quite soon. We can do a lot these days, with these types of injuries. We would, however,’ he said, his voice growing a bit sterner, ‘like you to spend the rest of the day here
recovering your strength some more, and then tomorrow, we’ll take you down to our therapy room to help speed up the healing process with some time in your animal form.’

  That didn’t sound so bad. ‘Okay.’

  Nafren pulled out a tray from the trolley Porda had wheeled in and placed it on a little table to the right-hand side of Siray’s bed. ‘Some food for you, if feel hungry at all.’ He pulled the mobile table closer to Siray’s bed so she could easily reach it. ‘It should be much nicer than whatever you lot have been eating lately,’ he said, winking at her in a friendly way.

  Siray smiled at him, and the two healers left the room, waving to Baindan before the door swished closed behind them. She turned to Baindan, relieved.

  ‘Looks like it’s mostly good news.’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah. I heard them discussing your injuries when they were in here late yesterday. They seem to be pretty good at what they do.’ He glanced down at his hands for a moment. ‘I also heard that I’ve got you to thank for me still being here.’

  Siray peered across at him, pretending to consider the matter. ‘Well, I did owe you at least one favour.’

  Baindan smiled at her humour, but then his face grew more serious as he said, ‘And I heard you also took on a kilften.’

  Siray frowned, then grimaced, raising a hand just short of the injured side of her face as she remembered not to touch it.

  Baindan saw the grimace and the involuntary hand movement and leaned towards her from his bed, concerned. ‘You okay?’

  Siray shook her head gently. ‘No, not really. I thought they would have given me something for the pain.’

  Baindan chuckled a little, and Siray peered across at him, fighting another frown. ‘Siray, they’ve had you on numbing agents so strong that I doubted for a while if you would wake up at all. I guess they had to, though, given the amount of digging they had to do in your side to remove that arrowhead.’