Lyra Dracorider's Arc

Chapter 3 of 15

Lyra walked the perimeter at first light, checking each enclosure. The foxes were asleep in their recovery pen. The two less-injured wyverns sat quietly in their crates. She saved the basilisk for last. When she reached its enclosure, she stopped. The creature was standing. The scales along its spine had closed overnight. The torn muscle she'd wrapped yesterday was sealed beneath fresh tissue. Lyra knelt at the enclosure's edge and watched the basilisk shift its weight. Its head turned toward movement in the snow — a fox darting past — and tracked it with focused eyes. The defensive thrashing was gone. The basilisk's instincts were returning to normal. Lyra marked the progress in her journal under the red glow of the lamp she'd brought outside. Then she walked to the stone den. The wyvern was lying on its side. The damaged wing was still. Lyra approached slowly, humming the same low melody she'd used since the first day. The wyvern's eyes opened but it didn't move. She knelt beside it and examined the joint. The swelling had decreased. The bone hadn't shifted further since yesterday. Lyra placed her hand on the wyvern's shoulder and felt its breathing steady beneath her palm. She couldn't undo the damage from the move, but the injury wasn't worsening. She could still work with this. Lyra dragged the frosted bench closer to the den's entrance and sat with her journal. She wrote down the basilisk's recovery speed, the wyvern's stable condition, and the foxes' continued progress. Every creature she'd feared losing was healing. The basilisk would be ready to release within days instead of weeks. The wyvern's wing would never be perfect, but it could still fly if she worked carefully enough. Lyra closed the journal and looked at the bandage roll she'd left beside the basilisk's enclosure. She'd need more supplies soon. But today, for the first time since the hunter arrived, she had room to breathe.