Legacy of the Darksword - Margaret Weis [81]
Suddenly I was free. The plant gave up its hold; the tendrils went limp and lifeless as a hand that has been cut off at the wrist.
Mosiah and Scylla were there to help me to my feet. I wiped the muck from my face and, with their help, stumbled to the air car. Eliza came after us, holding the Darksword ready in her hand, but the Kij vine had apparently given up the attack. Looking back on it, I saw its leaves withered and curling wherever the Darksword had touched it.
They assisted me to the car. Fortunately, the rain had all but ceased now.
“Will he be all right?” Eliza hovered over me. Her obvious concern eased me like a soothing balm.
“The pain fades quickly,” Mosiah said. “And the thorns are not poisonous. I know from experience.”
“You were always stumbling into them, as I recall,” offered Teddy from the floor. He sounded peevish. “I warned you against them, time and again—”
“You did not. You said they were edible,” Mosiah recalled with a half smile.
“Well, I knew one of us was,” Teddy muttered, then raised his voice in ire. “Is it absolutely necessary for the lot of you to drip all over me?”
“I’d feed you to the Kij vines,” said Mosiah, reaching inside to pick up Teddy, “but even they must have some taste.” He started to return the bear to the seat, but instead held him, stared at him. “I wonder . . .”
“Put me down!” Teddy complained. “You’re pinching me!”
Mosiah plunked the stuffed bear on the seat beside me.
“How are you feeling?” Scylla asked.
“Not well,” said Teddy, groaning.
“I was talking to Reuven,” Scylla said severely. She rolled up my pants leg and began examining my injuries.
I nodded, to indicate I was better. The pain was fading, as Mosiah had predicted. The horror was not. I could still feel those tendrils tightening around my legs. I shivered from cold and reaction to the ordeal.
“You should change out of those wet clothes,” Eliza said.
“Not here,” Mosiah stated. “Not now.”
“For once, I agree with the wizard,” Scylla said. “Get back in the car, all of you. I’ll turn the heat on. Reuven, take off what clothes you can. Eliza, cover him with as many blankets as we have. You’ll find a first-aid kit back there. Use the ointment on those wounds.”
Eliza returned the Darksword to its place on the floor, sliding it under the blanket, out of sight. She said no word about what she’d done to save me, and refused to look at me when I tried to sign my thanks. Instead, she searched for and discovered the first-aid kit, then busied herself with the blankets, pulling them out of the back compartment.
The air car rose up from that ill-fated place and slid smoothly forward, making better time now that the storm had abated. A watery sun peered down at us, blinking, as the clouds scudded over its weak eye.
“Mid-afternoon,” Mosiah said, gazing at the sky.
“As dark as it was, I thought it was night,” Eliza said.
She began treating my cuts and wounds with the ointment. Embarrassed at this attention, I had endeavored to take the tube from her, but she refused to let me. “Lie back and rest,” she ordered, and helped me peel off my sodden woolen sweater.
She dabbed ointment on the thorn wounds, which were red and fiery, with dark blood oozing from them. When Eliza spread the salve over them, the redness vanished, the bleeding stopped, the pain eased and was soon completely gone. Eliza’s eyes widened at the change.
“This is wonderful,” she said, looking at the small tube. “We have medical supplies sent to us by the Earth Forces, but nothing like this!”
“Standard government issue,” said Scylla, with a shrug.
Mosiah twisted around in his seat, studied the almost healed wounds on my arms and legs. He looked at Scylla.
“What government issues miracles these days?” he asked.
She glanced at him and grinned. “And where did you find that thunderbolt you launched, Enforcer? Just happen to have one up your sleeve? I thought you said your magic was depleted. No Life.” She shook her head in mock sorrow, and continued on. “And you asking for the Darksword. Quick thinking. Yet