Chapter: Realizations: 23 of ?
Author: Sam
Series: A Deeper Magic
Last Chapter: Az and Dylan meet the Papay and Dylan overworks himself to the point of collapse. Az gets angry and the pair fight over her trust in the presumed-dead Zero.
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Opening sleep-blurred blue eyes, DG had no idea when she'd drifted off or how long she'd slept. Darkness had settled over the room; it must have been hours. A strong arm encircled her waist and she took a long moment to think who it could be; her last boyfriend had ditched her for a perky Humanities Major over six months ago. Sudden awareness brought heat to her face and coursing over her entire body: Wyatt. "He must've cuddled in his sleep. Who'd have thought he's a cuddler." She couldn't let him wake up with her in his arms. Blinking, DG pushed to a sitting position.
Something felt . . . wrong, like the time the travel storm came to Kansas. The darkness remained still, but an eerie feeling crept down her spine.
Turning, she could barely make out the figure of Wyatt lying beside her. DG frowned and laid a hand on his bare shoulder. His breathing was soft and controlled, but his arm contracted at her touch. Since he hadn't moved at her position change, she knew he'd woken first. "Terrific!" she thought sarcastically. Out loud she said "Wyatt?" She cleared her throat; her voice always sounded huskier after sleep.
The sound of a pair of boots walking away in the hall brought DG spinning around to stare into the darkness of their room. Beside her Wyatt sat up, pushed back the covers, and slid from the bed. He walked to the door and stood by it, DG barely able to discern him in the darkness, though her eyes seemed to be adjusting.
Finally, Wyatt fumbled for a lamp DG knew hadn't been there before. He struck a long wooden match and carefully lit the oil lamp, placing it on the dressing table. Pausing, he looked down at the sketch DG had done earlier; she flushed.
"You're an artist?" he sounded surprised, and she realized she'd never told her friends about her two Other Side hobbies: art and mechanics.
With a shrug, she nodded. "Yeah, my . . . uh . . . robo-dad said I was pretty good."
He mouthed the words 'robo-dad' but turned to the armoire and opened it. Quickly he pulled out a robe and turned to put it on the bed at her feet. "Here, it's gotten colder."
Taking the hint, DG slid into the robe then grabbed the bathroom key. "So, they dropped off supper and a light while we slept." She hated the idea that Randu's men had come in on them in so vulnerable a state. Staring pointedly at the tray balanced on the single chair, she let her sarcasm show when she said, "that's room service for you."
Wyatt merely nodded and picked up the tray then headed for the connecting bathroom. "Well, they also finally took off again so let's go eat."
Was that what had bothered her: a Long Coat standing, listening outside in the hall? She nodded and led Wyatt into the lady's room next door.
Sudden worry filled DG when she saw the flushed look to Leona's face as she lay sleeping in the bed next to Ambrose. All thought of the Long Coat spy or the way she'd awakened left DG's mind. She hurried over to gently touch her cousin's forehead; the woman opened vibrant blue eyes, bright with a fever. DG swore, "Hell, she's running a fever, Wyatt."
Quickly he placed the tray on the foot of the bed and went to move the lantern into the bathroom; he couldn't bring it to the sickroom or a passing Long Coat would see the glow under the door and figure out the pair had an escape route. Leaving the lamp on the shelf next to the hipbath, Wyatt came into the room and pulled the delicate looking vanity chair to Leona's side. He placed the inside of his wrist against her forehead and frowned, worry filling his crystal-blue eyes.
Ambrose restlessly turned over and startled awake. "Hey! What are you doing?" His voice sounded indignant, confused.
DG hurried to his side of the bed. "Ambrose, it's okay. We've come with dinner . . ."
Her words didn't seem to soothe the royal advisor. Instead, he turned to Wyatt and said "but what are you doing, Cain . . . I mean Gale?"
Straightening quickly, Wyatt shot Ambrose a look DG could easily translate: he didn't like being called 'Gale.'
"Leona's feverish," Wyatt stated sounding withdrawn and serious. He walked over to the fedora on the vanity and took the key for the hall door from the hat. "Stay here. I'm getting some medicine."
Opening her mouth to protest, DG frowned as Wyatt shook his head, interrupting her. "If I'm caught, I can try to convince them I have spare keys since I'm a guard. I don't want them catching you out alone, DG."
Glaring at him, she snapped her mouth shut and slipped onto the bed on Leona's side. When Wyatt locked them in, she sighed and turned back to her cousin; Leona had closed her eyes once more. Frowning, DG looked up at Ambrose, trying to control her annoyance with Wyatt for putting her into the role of useless victim in need of protection. Would the man never remember she had skills and courage?
"Uh? DG?" Ambrose's voice brought her back out of her resentful thoughts.
She realized she'd been staring at the injured man. Offering her friend a gentle smile, she asked softly "how are you, Ambrose? Did the nap help your head?" She slipped from the bed and into the bathroom to fill the tumbler with cold water, bringing it back to offer to her advisor. Once he took the glass, DG settled back in bed next to her cousin.
Ambrose touched his bandaged head and grimaced then took a long drink of water. Handing the glass over to DG, he buried his hands in the blankets, though they seemed to make clutching motions as he spoke. "Yeah, the nap helped. So did the medicine. But now my head itches." He nodded sagely at her and went on, "of course, I know I'm not supposed to scratch. Itching is a sign of healing."
A click sounded from the hall door.
As if oblivious to the threat, Ambrose continued, "But I . . ."
DG's hand shot out and over his mouth. "Shut up, Glitch," she hissed, her attention drawn to the entry. She knew it should be Wyatt returning; who else would have a key? But the idea of Randu or his guards coming in on the two defenseless victims she'd hidden in the room terrified her.
Instantly, Ambrose shut his mouth, eyes widening as he, too, stared at the door, resembling an animal caught in high beams.
Wyatt opened the door and entered, quickly locking the door behind him. In his arms he carried a jumble of items. Quiet on his bare feet, the tall blond strode to Leona's side of the bed and sat on the chair, laying his loot out on the covers: three more water glasses, several clean linen shirts, someone's entire shaving kit, and a nondescript worn leather pack.
Looking from the jumble of stuff to Wyatt, who opened the pack revealing rolled bandages, medicine, and other first aid supplies, DG asked "Where did you get that?"
The feel of Ambrose's mouth moving against her palm and a muffled murmuring brought a quick flush to the princess's face. She dropped her hand from the advisor's mouth and said, "sorry, Ambrose."
"Where did you get that?" DG repeated, looking back to Wyatt and reaching for a neatly labeled medicine packet.
Shrugging, Wyatt softly answered "it's Jeb's. His room was two doors down. Dylan's is further, but I didn't venture that far yet. I raided only the nearest rooms for the shirts, cups, and Jeb's things." He glanced at the injured couple. "You doing okay, Ambrose?"
Ambrose nodded in response, but kept his mouth closed.
Giving the normally overly-talkative man an inscrutable look, Wyatt turned back to the medical pack. He pulled out a small paper packet and handed it to DG. "Pour that in some water for her. She'll need to drink all of it."
"Is it for fever?" DG carefully opened the packet to find a grey colored powder.
"No." Wyatt turned and carefully sat the feverish woman up and eased her nightgown over her head, laying it on the bed. "It's for infection." Gently, the former cop began checking over Leona's entire body, noting the condition of every injury.
Several of the larger gashes had puckered and grown quite red, hard, and hot. Gruesome yellow-green scabs closed those wounds yet looked strained to the limit.
DG's eyes widened at the sight of the infected wounds. She picked up one of the empty water tumblers and hesitated.
Wyatt pulled out his straight razor, opening it and offering it carefully to DG. "Sterilize that in the lamp's flame. I need to reopen these to drain them."
She took the handle and did as bid, returning quickly with a full glass, a couple of towels, and the rapidly cooling blade. DG handed the razor back to Wyatt and laid the towels next to Leona's hip. Quickly she poured the powder into the glass and watched as it swirled and dissolved and colored the water a slight greyish tint. Looking up, the princess never even flinched as she worriedly watched Wyatt and Leona.
As Wyatt drew the blade over the gash on Leona's left shoulder, the older woman whimpered and clutched at him. DG hurried to grab her cousin's hands, trying to prevent the other princess from getting seriously hurt while Wyatt worked.
"Wyatt? Do you know what you're doing?" DG couldn't help asking even though he seemed so sure of himself.
He nodded as he pushed the thick discolored fluid from the freely bleeding wound. "I trained to go in the army when I was a teen." He wiped the blade on one towel and began carefully slicing the puckered flesh of a wound on Leona's right thigh. "First aid was one of the first things we were taught. Of course, anything this serious was handled by a medico, but I watched enough infected injuries treated to try it now." He again cleaned the pus-covered blade and worked on a third gash, across her right knee. "She can't wait until we find a real doctor."
DG nodded, still worrying about the almost primitive methods they were using.
Oddly Ambrose merely watched in fascination as if he'd never known such a procedure existed. DG didn't bother breaking him from his obvious 'Glitch' moment.
Fortunately, after that third wound Wyatt took a long look over the naked body of his patient then grabbed the second towel and started cleaning the draining areas. He softly said "let her go, DG. I've got her now." As the younger woman released the elder and stepped away, Wyatt sank onto the bed next to Leona and began using a paste from a small jar to slather the wounds. With a roll of bandages cut into strips using Jeb's straight razor, the Tin Man covered the three treated wounds. He laid Leona back against her headboard and stood, moving to Ambrose's side of the bed. "Give her the drink, DG."
"Right," she had to clear her throat as her voice sounded more whisper than comment. Replacing Wyatt on the bed next to her cousin, DG slid an arm around Leona and said "drink this." She aided the other woman to drink the liquid, wincing along with Leona as the woman made a face at the taste. It took only minutes for Leona to finish off the medicinal drink, though.
Nodding, Wyatt turned to Ambrose. "Your turn."
"Uh," Ambrose lifted his hands in a placating manner and said, "I really don't think I need you to reopen my head, Gale."
On a low growl, Wyatt said, "call me Wyatt, and I'm not reopening your head. I'm changing your bandages."
The advisor blinked dark brown eyes and made an 'O' of his mouth. Nodding hesitantly, he lowered his hands and shut his eyes, stiffening as if expecting pain.
Wyatt rolled his eyes and began to unwrap the thick gauze around Ambrose's head.
Reaching into Jeb's medical kit, DG rooted through the neatly labeled medicines. "Ambrose," she called to distract the frightened patient. "Can you tell me the names of medicines for fever and pain? Ones normally in a first aid kit?"
Seizing on the topic, Ambrose started rattling off the list of normal medicines regularly used. He seemed to relax as Wyatt finished un-bandaging him. Ambrose's black hair had been shaven completely off, revealing the long stitched surgical scar down the center of his head where his zipper had once been. Fortunately, the wound seemed to be healing well thanks to the care of the medicos and the magic used to aid him.
Carefully Wyatt re-bandaged the other man's head, not disturbing the fresh sutures.
Meanwhile, listening attentively, DG found two of the drugs Ambrose mentioned and read the labels, frowning. "Hey, Ambrose," she interrupted, "what's the dose on these two?" She held them up, forcing Ambrose to open his eyes and concentrate on what she presented.
He answered quickly then closed his eyes again, hands clenching at the sheets though he didn't seem to be in too much pain.
"Thanks." DG counted out the proper amount of pills, putting the rest back in the kit. Turning to Leona, she helped her cousin swallow the medicine.
When both caregivers had finished, Wyatt rose from where he sat on the bed and retrieved the chair from the other side of the bed. He moved it to Ambrose's side, sat down, and pulled the dinner tray closer. "We need to eat quickly. I'm not sure when they'll come back for the tray."
DG picked up a spoon and began feeding Leona the soup, soaking chunks of bread in the still warm broth to feed the injured woman. Leona ate listlessly and only finished half of her designated limited rations.
Sitting back as Leona refused more soup, DG frowned. "You sure? We can't save it for later."
"You eat it," Leona murmured leaning back into her pillow, shaking with her efforts so far. "If I eat any more, we'll all regret it." She looked up at her cousin, apparently miserable.
DG hoped the medicine would kick in soon as she finished off her share of the food plus Leona's leftovers.
The two men sat, sharing the other bowl of soup, watching equally worried. After a long moment, Ambrose reached for the apple juice, and Wyatt conceded the cup without protest. DG offered the Tin Man the other cup, not particularly thirsty. He accepted the glass and drank the entire small amount; Randu's cook was not generous with the juice.
"I suppose this means we can't escape tomorrow?" DG spoke low, despite the silence from the hall indicating no passing guards.
Wyatt studied the injured couple and answered just as softly. "Depends on if Ambrose is recovered enough to get through the tunnels. I can carry Leona."
A soft chuckle escaped the older princess, her eyes closing. "Oh, that might be nice. I love being pampered."
Ambrose rolled his eyes and turned to Leona, opening his mouth, but apparently he thought better of his comment because he shut it again.
She patted his hand without opening her eyes, smiling slightly as she said "I know . . . the death of you."
DG stared at Leona, wondering what she meant by such an odd comment, but neither patient explained. With a sigh, the younger woman picked up the tray, devoid of food once more, and said "try to rest, okay?"
Leona nodded and Ambrose hid a yawn behind his hand, mumbling "I don't think that'll be a problem."
Wyatt followed DG from the room. He retrieved the lamp then closed and locked the bathroom door behind them. He'd left all of their purloined supplies in the other room. Wyatt placed the lamp carefully on the dressing table.
Putting the tray on the floor near the hall door, DG sank onto the bed. She pulled her foot up to set on the bed, wrapping her arms around her knee and burying her face in her arms. After a long moment, the bed beside her sank down and Wyatt put a hand on her back.
"You okay, Kid?" he asked softly.
Not answering, DG merely nodded her head. Apparently, he took that to mean 'No,' as he started rubbing his strong hand across the top center of her back. The unspoken support called forth the tears she'd been holding back and she sobbed. Seeing the others so sick had brought home just how desperate their situation had become, how much danger everyone she loved was in.
"Hey," Wyatt said and suddenly slipped his arm around her, holding her against his sturdy frame. "We're not going to let Randu win, DG. We have allies coming. We can beat this."
She nodded and let herself relax against her Tin Man, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart under her head.
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Continued in Chapter Twenty-Four: The Blacksmith's Sawhorse
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The Twelve Clans of the Outer Zone with the Ruling House of Each Clan:
Aquam Clan/ House of Rimi . . . (Ice- Mount Runcible)
Cogitatio Clan/ House of Idae . . . (Milltown)
Corde Clan/ House of Animum . . . (Viewers)
Fortitudo Clan/ House of Greyhatt . . . (Guilds- Munchkins)
Lux Clan/ House of Gale . . . (formerly House of Ozma- Gillikin)
Mortem Clan/ House of Shiz . . . (Alma Mata- Gillikin)
Nature Clan/ House of Terrae . . . (Vinkus- Thousand Year Grasslands)
Papay Clan/ House of Somniabunt
Phlogiston Clan/ House of Pyre . . . (Fire- Desert surrounding O.Z.)
Sapientiam Clan/ House of Quinolui . . . (Quadling- Realm of the Unwanted)
Spiritus Clan/ House of Aeris . . . (Air- Lake Country)
Tenebris Clan/ House of Fugae . . . (Witch's Dark Tower- Gillikin)
