On Fire's Wings - Christie Golden [146]
Tears trickled down her face. “I’m glad,” she whispered, then arched in torment as behind her, someone touched her back.
“Careful, Asha!” cried Tahmu.
“My lord, I am sorry, but—may I speak with you?”
Tahmu squeezed Kevla’s hand and then rose. He and his healer walked off a few steps and conversed in whispers. Kevla locked eyes with the Dragon.
“Make them tell me,” she whispered. “I need to know.”
He nodded his understanding, lifted his head and bellowed, “Tell her what is wrong, Asha!”
The healer knelt in front of her, looking more sorrowful and frightened than she had ever seen him.
“It’s bad, Kevla,” he said. “An arrow entered your back at an angle. The shaft runs all through your body. The tip comes out in your shoulder. I fear that I will be unable to remove it without causing fatal damage.”
Kevla blinked, not comprehending. To have come this far, to have endured so much, and now one arrow would take her life? Doom the whole world?
She started to shake her head, then hissed as the movement exacerbated the pain. She licked her lips and spoke.
“No. There has to be a way.”
“Truly, there is not. Nothing has been pierced yet, but the arrow’s shaft….” Aware that he was repeating himself, Asha fell silent. Tahmu shoved him aside and again gripped his daughter’s hand, his gaze roaming over her face.
“Dragon,” Kevla whispered, looking into her father’s eyes. “Dragon, you know more about me than I know about myself. Is there nothing that can be done?”
“Yes, there is. But it will be difficult.”
Hope swelled inside her, dimming the pain ever so slightly. Tahmu looked up at the Dragon.
“Save her.”
“She must save herself.”
“How is she to do that?” Tahmu demanded. “She lies near death, an arrow running the length of her body!”
Kevla closed her eyes, drifting. The Dragon continued to speak, but she barely heard him.
“The arrow is made of wood. You are the Flame Dancer. You must burn it, Kevla. Burn it to ashes inside of you. Burn it away to nothing. You know how to do this.”
Because I did it to Jashemi. Tears leaked past her closed lids.
“Fire destroys,” said the Dragon, as if she had spoken aloud, “but it also cleanses and purifies. Burn the arrow shaft, and cauterize your wounds.”
It sounded so easy and so difficult at the same time. She was holding on to consciousness by a thread, only faintly aware of the pressure of her father’s hand on hers.
“Kevla, you must do as the Dragon says,” Tahmu said softly. “I have forsaken Keishla and lost Jashemi. Don’t let the Emperor take my daughter, too.”
Slowly, she opened her eyes. She had never seen him look like this; not when she told him about Jashemi, not when he had taken his blood-marked daughter to give to the Dragon. On his strong, handsome face were mingled hope and fear and…love?
Quickly, before she lost her courage, she squeezed her eyes shut and visualized the arrow that had pierced her body. It sprang to her mind’s eye immediately. She could see its harsh wooden shaft embedded in her flesh. She understood now the reason for Asha’s concern; it would indeed have been impossible to remove.
But not to immolate.
Kevla, my love, you are fire!
She gasped and arched her body as the heat began to burn from deep inside her. It spread rapidly through her body, and she felt her father drop her hand; no doubt it was too hot for him to continue to hold. She willed her body to consume the wooden arrow shaft, and she screamed aloud as the internal heat increased. She felt the shaft catch fire and burn to ashes in the space of one heartbeat to the next.
More. She needed to do more.
The ashes inside her continued to be consumed. Burned away until they had completely dissolved. Now she turned her attention to the entry wound in her lower back, willing her body to concentrate the heat there. She heard gasps and low talking as her father, Asha and the Dragon, and whoever else had clustered around to witness, saw what they could only call a miracle.