Bloodletting Part 1: The Affinities Cycle Book 1 (8 page)

Chapter 19

Tetra Bicks

Tetra opened his eyes. Pain prowled around the edges of his consciousness, but he’d grown accustomed to it enough to ignore the agonies for the time being. His stomach growled, demanding attention. He had constantly been using his magic, which was draining him rapidly. He could feel his ribs pushing against the skin of his stomach.

Healing took its toll on his reserves also, and if he didn’t replenish his energy, he’d continue sleeping almost constantly. That needed to change.

“Awake again, eh?” the now-familiar voice said beside him.

After a couple attempts, Tetra managed to push out the word, “H—hungry.” His tongue cracked in the back of his throat. Too thirsty. Too hungry. How many times had he woken and fallen unconscious again? Too many to count.

“Very good!”

Even though it hurt, Tetra turned his head to finally see the source of the voice. Rounded cheeks, nose, and chin gave an almost jolly look to the man’s otherwise long features. His graying hair was tucked behind his ears and his thick spectacles reflected the lamplight.

“Do you think you can handle something solid?” the man asked, smiling.

“Yes. But water, too.” Each word spoken made speaking easier.

“Be right back then.” He left the room.

Tetra tried to sit up, but his arms, as well as his legs, refused to move. Fighting down panic, he focused on his limbs. He heaved a sigh of relief. He could feel his arms. Below his waist was still numb.

Shifting in his bed, he looked around the room for the first time. It was large, with stone walls and ceiling. Several beds were in it, and shelves laden with jars filled one end of the room. It was devoid of any other decorations or adornments.

As Tetra examined his surroundings the man returned carrying a tray with an assortment of food on it. A black and white hound with blue eyes and oversized, pointy ears trotted along after him, watching the food. The aromas wafting from the tray made Tetra’s stomach rumble again.

“Hunger is an excellent sign.” The man set the tray down on a small table next to Tetra’s bed, shooing the sniffing hound away. A bowl of stew dominated the center of the tray, but there were sliced meats, cheeses, and wedges of fruit also.

“I’m going to prop you up so you don’t choke.” The man’s bracing hand on his back created excruciating pressure, but Tetra hissed through gritted teeth until he sat upright. Finally fully awake, his exhausted arms started responding and Tetra helped the process as much as he could. Pillows were propped behind him until he was comfortable and upright. “Sorry about that. How does beef stew sound?”

Tetra nodded. The first bite melted in his mouth, a divine warmth that spread through his whole body starting with the bite. It was also more than his body could handle. Despite the stew being a liquid base, it stung against the dry back of his throat.

He croaked, pushing the stew away. “Water … please.”

“Of course.” The man swapped the bowl for a mug of water.

Tetra longingly watched the stew, but knew he needed the water first. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the dog also watching the bowl of stew. Tetra gulped half the flagon before he stopped, coughing.

“Slow down lad. We’ve been feeding you water while you were asleep, but you still need to drink slowly or you’ll make yourself sick.”

“Where am I?” Tetra slowed down on the water, sipping instead of gulping.

“Drayston Castle.”

“Who are you?” Tetra eyed the bowl of stew again, putting down the water.

“My name is Petrius Alma. I’m the chief surgeon here.” He offered another spoonful to Tetra. “You’ve been here four weeks now.”

Tetra blinked, stew momentarily ignored. “Four weeks? Jaegen … I was chasing them. Are there other survivors?”

“Our men are still investigating. So far, you’re the only one we’ve encountered from the village. We don’t even know your name yet.”

“I’m … Tetra. Tetra Bicks.” As overwhelmed as he was, hunger trumped shocked and Tetra ate another spoonful of stew.

As he slowly ate, Tetra tried to absorb what the healer had said. Four weeks! And no others found? Tetra knew others had lived, even if taken by the orocs. They could be almost anywhere by now. Halli’s presence still floated in the back of his mind, connected to him forever. He had to recover before he lost any more time. He had to find a way to save her.

“Why …” He coughed. “Why can’t I move my legs? And why are my arms so … slow?”

“I’ve given you a powerful tincture for the pain. It has the unfortunate side effect of temporary partial limb paralysis.” Petrius set down the emptied bowl. “You were thrashing in your sleep too much. You risked harming yourself further, and it was the wisest course.” Petrius watched as Tetra finished the bowl. “More stew?”

“Maybe later.” Tetra let the relief well through him. No wonder he’d had so much difficulty moving. He’d been drugged to help the healing process. Once it wore off, he’d be as good as new. He wanted so desperately to believe that lie, that he ignored the fragmented memories of conversations he had overheard during his delirium.

“Of course. Now, it’s time for another dose.” Petrius offered a small cup containing a familiar mint-scented liquid. The hound whined from the edge of the bed, eyeing the food that the humans were now ignoring.

“No, thank you. I don’t like not being able to move.” Tetra patted the far side of the bed, looking at the dog. Perking up, the dog trotted around and laid his head on the sheets next to Tetra’s hand.

Petrius put the empty bowl down on the tray. “You’ll be in incredible pain without it.”

Tetra reached past the doctor, grabbing a slice of meat that he fed to the hound. It was as though he could ignore the suffering of his body by acting as though nothing was wrong. “I’m already in incredible pain. I want to be able to move.”

Petrius grimaced. “I suspect you are. But it will at least help you to sleep. I insist. You will be able to move more soon enough.”

Tetra sealed his lips and looked away, running his fingers through the dog’s soft fur.

Petrius’ grimace turned to a scowl, and his voice rose. “You won’t be any better off without it—” He stood and wiped his hands on his robe, gathering his composure. “Forgive me. My lack of sleep has caught up with me.” He gave a strained smile. “If you change your mind, just call. I, or my assistant, will be listening.”

The earlier panic fluttered in Tetra’s chest. “What do you mean?” The dog started licking Tetra’s palm, whining softly at the change of the boy’s mood.

“We’ll be listening for your call.”

“No. What about my not being any better off? What did you mean by that?”

Petrius patted Tetra’s shoulder. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk when you’re healed up.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” Tetra moved his hand away, scratching at the dog’s nape, behind his ear. Try as might, he couldn’t calm himself.

Petrius looked at the floor. He finally met Tetra’s eyes. Tetra read guilt there. “You were terribly injured. Three of the bones in your lower back were crushed, and fragments cut into your spine. I don’t believe you’ll ever walk again.”

Tetra’s throat went dry. His pulse pounded in his temples. He drew his hand away from the dog, clenching his arms around his stomach. “What? But … you healed me.”

In the silence between the two, the dog hopped onto the bed, curling up next to Tetra and shoving its nose against Tetra’s arm. With his head laying on Tetra’s stomach, he stared soulfully up at the hurting boy.

“I can only do so much.” Petrius shook his head. “If I’d been there when you were injured, I might’ve been able to do more. I’m very sorry. I didn’t want to tell you yet. You should thank the Aspects that you are alive at all, I didn’t think you would make it.”

“But I—there’s a chance then … when the medicine wears off?” Tetra refused to hear the truth in the doctor’s words.

Petrius looked away. “I’m sorry. No.” He picked up the tray and shuffled from the room. His hound cast a last mournful look at Tetra before hopping off the bed and following.

By the Aspects, it couldn’t be. Tetra stared at the ceiling, trying to deny the surgeon’s words. Jaegen … his family … now his legs. What more could he lose but his life? Tears burned in the corners of his eyes, but he clenched his chest and refused to let them come. Crying would just be giving in, surrendering … How easy it would be to take the doctor’s medicine and lose himself to sleep once more. To not have to fight.

Instead, he took the grief and added it to the stone at his core, accepting it as part of himself. He lay there for hours as the last of the medicine wore off. Petrius—Doctor Alma—had spoken truthfully about the pain worsening, but being able to move his arms fully again made it worth the extra agony. Not feeling like he was swimming through honey, fighting for every motion, lifted his heart.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the grief in his gut turned into stronger determination. He pushed himself to sit up straighter, vision going gray from the effort.

The healer had been wrong about one thing. He
would
walk again. Even if he had to crawl through the underworld and back again, he would walk. No matter how long it took, no matter how much it tortured him. What did more agony matter if everything already hurt? Halli needed him, and he’d die before he let her down. Yes. Only death would stop him now.

Without waiting for the nausea to ebb, he grabbed the thin, gray cloth of a pants leg. Grunting with effort, he swung his right leg over the edge of the bed. He bit back against another surge of pain, letting it pass over and through him. Hauling his left leg over next to his right, he braced a hand on the bedside table and the other on the edge of the bed. Taking a deep breath, he shoved off, immediately collapsing to the floor, back blossoming in pain.

He forced himself up onto his elbows, looking around the room. A million thoughts raced through his mind, none able to pierce the veil of agony. He floated on a river of agony, unable to think a clear thought, driven only by intent. Reaching forward, he grabbed the floor. Reflexively, his magic went to work, shifting the density of the stone as his fingers came down. Instead of stone, his fingers dug into dusty grooves as the pressure from his hands powdered the floor beneath his fingertips.

Hand over hand, he pulled his body across the floor, dragging himself toward the door. He pushed the door open. Just beyond, the healer’s hound sat alert in the otherwise empty hallway. It watched him, ears cocked. A guard dog? He prayed it wouldn’t alert the Healer. It padded up to him and licked his face. “Good boy.” Tetra managed to rasp.

Containing stones forged by Vulcans into everlasting light fixtures, a few volamps illuminated the hall with an orange glow, steadier than the exterior torchlight illuminating the room behind him. Sweat beaded his forehead as he crawled forward, pulling himself along with his elbows and fingers, his magic digging furrows in the stone as he went.

Cold air chilled his damp skin as he made his way into the nearby courtyard. The immense fortress reared around him, backlit by moonlight—but he only had eyes for the practice yard off to the right. He heard voices, but ignored them.

The hound padded alongside him as he crawled across the courtyard. He cursed his scrapes and bruises, considering them one more enemy to be defeated. His huffs echoed about, while pebbles ground beneath him with each haul forward. His legs dragged behind, senseless, useless. Through it all, his felt like it was being torn apart by a ravager.

With another grind of an elbow against stone, he lay over the threshold to the training yard. He pressed a hand against the archway, preparing to shove through. When he pushed, though, his palm slipped and he flopped flat. Fire coiled up his back and ate away the last of his strength. His cheek slapped stone, and darkness swallowed him whole.

***