Bronze Magic (Book 1) (33 page)

Stormaway looked into his eyes. “Tarkyn. Focus on me. You have a
punctured lung. One of your broken ribs has pierced the wall of your
lung and your lung is filling with blood. That is why you can’t get enough
air. Do you understand so far?”
Tarkyn nodded.
“It is beyond the normal practice of medicine to repair it and you are
in danger of drowning in your own blood. But Tarkyn, you are a forest
guardian and you possess the power of healing. I will guide you to heal
yourself.”
Tarkyn was fighting for breath and fear flickered in his eyes but he
nodded and kept his focus on the wizard.
“Now, you will have to close your eyes but you must not let yourself
lose consciousness…Think down inside yourself. Go to the source of the
pain. Look at what is happening. You will have to straighten the rib back
into position so that it is no longer piercing your lung.”
Tarkyn’s eyebrows twitched then drew together. His face grimaced
with pain but he kept his eyes closed. His breath was gurgling now but he
maintained his focus. He coughed again and a small gush of blood burst
forth between his lips. He dragged in a slow wheezing breath.
Stormaway kept his voice steady and low. “Don’t concern yourself
with repairing the rib for now. Just make sure it is clear of the lung.” He
waited until he saw a minute nod from the prince. “Now, move your
attention to the wound in your lung. Can you see it?” Another tiny nod.
“Focus your will on the wound. Use the same power you used to grow
the sapling from the staff. Draw on your life source, your
esse
, and knit
together the damaged blood vessels. If you can, use the blood that is in
your lungs as material for the repairs.”
Tarkyn’s chest rose and fell in great heaving motions. He was struggling
to get any breath at all. Each breath brought fresh blood. Still he kept
his focus but he was already living on borrowed time. Stormaway looked
around at Waterstone, Thunder Storm, Autumn Leaves and the newly
arrived Summer Rain who were gathered ashen faced around the prince
who was slowly but surely losing his battle to live.
“He’s going to need our help. Put you hands on my shoulders. Now
focus inside yourselves. Find your life force and let it flow through your
hands into me. Do not fear that you will lose it all but you may lose
some. However, like blood, it replenishes itself.” They nodded and did
as he had asked. “Tarkyn, keep going. Keep focussing on repairing the
damage. The woodfolk and I are going to join our
esse
to yours to give
you the strength you need.”
Tarkyn felt a soft infusion of strength but by now he was struggling
to focus on anything but drawing his next breath. A soft green glow
swirled around the small group huddled over the prince. Drawn by the
spectacle, the other woodfolk left their digging and came over to watch.
Summer Rain sent a brief mind message, explaining what was happening,
then re-focussed her attention. The other woodfolk, as one, placed their
hands on the shoulders of those already in place. The green mist spiralled
lazily, growing in density, the centre of it swirling down the vortex of the
whirlpool into the prostrate figure on the ground.
An uncanny silence descended. With a start, the woodfolk realised
that they could no longer hear the gurgling and wheezing of the prince’s
laboured breath. His chest was still. A sense of dread crept over them.
They redoubled their efforts to channel their combined life force into
the prince.
Inside a private hell, Tarkyn had given up the fight to breath. He was
using what energy he had left to focus on drawing together the tear in his
lung. He knew he was failing but he kept fighting. A ponderous, rolling
wave of strength washed into him and he drew on it desperately to create
new fibres to weave closed the puncture in his lung. Suddenly, in the far
distance he heard a voice that he thought he knew calling out to him.
The voice became so strident and insistent that Tarkyn finally decided he
should leave his task and listen to it.
“Breathe, Tarkyn. Breathe. Come on. Listen to me. Change your
focus. For pity’s sake, breathe!”
Shocked, Tarkyn realised he had forgotten all about breathing. It
had been such a relief to stop trying. He steeled himself and forced
himself to drag in a breath. Immediately, he started coughing and his
chest seared with pain. Tarkyn opened his eyes and hands propped him
up while he coughed over and over again as blood and sputum forced
their way up out of his lungs. Finally, the coughing stopped and he lay
back exhausted, but with his airways clear. He heard cheering in the
background and wondered vaguely what it was for. Then Tarkyn finally
gave in to the terrible tiredness he had been fighting against and slipped
into unconsciousness.
Stormaway looked up, grey faced, from the prince to all those
gathered around him. “I thank you all. Without the strength from all of
you, he would surely have died.” He stood up wearily. “I am afraid we
are going to have to change our plans. The prince’s rib is still hanging
broken and sharp right next to his lung. Until he has the energy to
repair it, he can only be moved with extreme care. I don’t know when
he will be well enough to grow plants on your excavation. I think you’ll
have to disguise it as best you can without him for now.” He looked
at Thunder Storm.“How long do you estimate we have left before the
next attack?”
“Still a while. About nine or ten hours. Assuming the gap is the same
as last time, of course.”
Stormaway shook his head. “There is no way Tarkyn will be able to
walk to the road. I’ll have to do it on my own. I need a rest first. Things
have been rather busy here one way and another since we arrived. Any
chance of a cup of tea and something to eat?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll find something for you.” Summer Rain frowned at
him in concern. “You look close to exhaustion yourself ”
Stormaway sat down on the log next to Tarkyn’s unconscious form and
nodded. “I am, but I’ll recover in a while.” He looked at the woodwoman,
“I think it was fear that drained me the most. I’ve never done anything
like that before. I have never worked on anyone who has the gift of
healing to draw on. I think it was desperation more than anything that
guided me through it.”
“Thank you for saving our forest guardian. I was very impressed. I
should have asked you to attend to the prince earlier.”
“I didn’t realise he was a forest guardian before and it wasn’t desperate
enough to try something so different.” Stormaway considered her thoughtfully
for a moment, “Did the welfare of the forest not cross your mind?”
Summer Rain looked startled then angry. Before she could speak,
Stormaway put up a hand. “No, sorry. Don’t answer that. It was an
unworthy of me to say that, after all you have done. I apologize.”
She considered him silently for a moment, obviously debating whether
to take issue or to let it drop. Finally, she said merely, “I’ll get you some
tea and some food,” and left.
Stormaway looked around, “Waterstone? Where are you?”
“I’m here,” came the woodman’s tight voice from just behind him.
“Come around and sit next to me.”
Waterstone sat down and put his head in his hands. “Go on,” he said
in a muffled voice. “You won’t say anything I haven’t thought of myself.”
Surprisingly, Stormaway wasn’t full of recriminations. “Waterstone, I
have seen enough of your dealings with Tarkyn to know that you would
not want to hurt him like that. I was there when you stopped the fight
for that very reason. None of us knew the damage had already been done.
He is as much to blame as you are for fighting like that before he was
properly healed.”
The woodman lifted a tear stained face. “That’s not strictly true. He’s
only young and he would never have refused because he knew it mattered
to me. I was the only one who could have prevented it and I didn’t.” He
shook his head. “I didn’t realised he was still so injured. He covers it up
a lot, you know.”
The wizard put his hand on the distressed woodman’s knee.
“Waterstone, I too allowed the fight to continue. Let us not dwell on
what could have been and instead focus on repairing what now is. Tarkyn
needs your help. You are closest to him and he trusts you. I want you to
sit beside him, keep your hand on his shoulder and join your life force,
your
esse
to his. Don’t give it to him and don’t drain yourself. He will need
you strong when he wakes. Just join your
esse
with his. Can you do that?”
Waterstone frowned, “I’ll try. I’m new at this. Do I just do the same as
we all did before?”
Stormaway nodded, “Yes, more or less. I want you to do something
else as well.”
“Anything. Whatever it takes.”
The wizard considered the woodman. “No, Waterstone. You can’t
make extravagant promises like that. You have a daughter. But I am not
asking you to do anything excessive. You can send images to Tarkyn, can’t
you?”
“Yes, but not words.”
The wizard nodded, “Images will do. Can you send him an image of
everyone linked, helping him with their strength and waiting for him
to come back? Once he has understood that, send him an image of you
waiting for him and calling him back. Something like that. Can you do
that? I know he’s exhausted but I don’t want him to stay unconscious for
too long. I want to make sure he’s all right.”
Waterstone sat down cross-legged next to the prince and placed his
hand on Tarkyn’s shoulder “I will do what I can. Could you ask someone
to send Sparrow to me please? She will want to look after Tarkyn as
well… and I want her beside me.”
“Of course I will.” Stormaway stood up to leave then turned back,
“One more thing. Whatever you do, don’t let him get up when he wakes.
That rib could re-puncture his lung.”
tormaway wandered off to track down Summer Rain and the food.
The area that sorcerer and the wizard had loosened had now been
emptied of dirt and was already half full of parcels of wolf remains.
A cooking fire had been lit off to one side.
Summer Rain saw him coming and had a meat roll and a cup of tea
ready for him.
“Hmm, wolf sandwich,” he murmured to himself.
Summer Rain’s eyes brows twitched, “What? Don’t you like it?”
Stormaway smiled. “Actually, I enjoy it tremendously. I’m not so sure
how keen our young friend is about it, though. It is a bit of an acquired
taste, don’t you think?”
The woodwoman shrugged, “Maybe. I’ve eaten it all my life from time
to time. So it’s hard to say.” She nodded at the hole. “The last loads are
coming in now. Then we’ll all have lunch before we move on to the next
phase.”
“Once we had laid the trail to the road,” said Autumn Leaves who had
come over to join them, “our plan was to travel through the trees so that
we would leave no scent or tracks.” He glanced over at Waterstone sitting
beside the forest guardian’s still body. As they watched, Sparrow arrived
and took up position opposite her father, placing her hand on Tarkyn’s
other shoulder. Waterstone smiled gently at her and ruffled her hair. “I
don’t know what we are going to do about Tarkyn. We can’t leave him
lying here. We have to get him up into the trees if wolves are coming.”
Creaking Bough who had just emptied her load into the hole, brushed
her hands off as she suggested, “What about a stretcher arrangement that
we could haul up into the trees. Two poles and a large piece of sheeting
tied between them.”
“We couldn’t take him very far through the trees like that, but at least it
would get him up off the ground.” Autumn Leaves turned to the wizard.
“Can you lift things in the same way as Tarkyn?” Seeing the hesitation on
Stormaway’s face, he added hastily, “We would be hauling up at the same
time. It just might make the lifting smoother.”
The wizard gave a tired smile. “I will do what I can. I am hoping he
will recover enough to make that unnecessary. How long would you need
to rig up a stretcher?”
Creaking Bough shrugged, “Not long. Half an hour maybe. Another
half hour to get him up into the trees. Probably a lot less but we wouldn’t
want to cut it too fine.”
Autumn Leaves frowned suddenly and went out of focus. After a
few seconds, his eyes cleared but he looked puzzled. “I received some
confusing images but basically Waterstone needs us over there.”
Waterstone looked up as they approached. “Tarkyn wants us to position
him next to a large tree so that either he is touching it or someone is
linking him to it.”
Summer Rain smiled in comprehension, “He is a guardian of the forest.
If we can give him life force, so can the trees. And they will, because he
is the guardian,”
“Is he awake?” asked Stormaway.
Waterstone frowned uncertainly. “No. Not exactly. I know he has been
receiving my images and now he has sent this one to me about the trees
but he’s not stirring yet. I don’t think he has enough energy to come back
yet.”
Autumn Leaves looked around. “You’re very close to that young elm.
There’s a huge old oak over there but that’s twenty yards away.”
Waterstone shook his head. “Tarkyn won’t use a young tree. He doesn’t
want to risk draining it too much.”
Autumn Leaves raised his eyebrows. “Is he listening to us, then?”
Waterstone put his head on one side. “I don’t think so. I’m sending
him the images of what you’re saying and he’s sending back reactions.”
He looked at the wizard, “Can we move him to that oak?”
Stormaway considered. “If you all place your hands under him to
support him and keep him straight, I will lift him and transport him over
there. Agreed?”
Once the woodfolk had positioned themselves along either side of
their guardian, Stormaway said, “On count of three, I will lift. One..
two..three.”
Tarkyn rose into the air, hands holding him unbending as he sailed
gently towards the great oak.
“Now, I am going to lower him slowly. Is everybody ready?”
The woodfolk maintained their pressure under him until he was
lowered onto the ground next to the gnarled trunk of the great oak.
During the whole operation, Tarkyn did not so much as flutter an eyelid.
Except for his chest rising and falling slowly, he seemed uncannily like a
corpse. Several worried glances passed between the woodfolk.