Lyra Fernbrook's Arc

Chapter 17 of 18

Dorian kicked the door of the herbal house open and carried Lyra inside. Blood ran down his arm and dripped from her heel to the floor. He laid her on the long table by the window and cut her shirt away from the wound in her side. The cut in her arm still bled. The cut below her ribs bled worse. Her satchel hung from the table edge, herbs spilling out in a soft pile. He tore at the ties and dumped it out. Yarrow. Moss. A folded cloth. He knew the names because he had watched her use them on him. He did not know the order. He pressed yarrow to the deep cut and held it there with both hands. The blood soaked through in a breath. He packed on more. He tried to hum the tune she had hummed over him and could not hold the notes. His throat closed. He shouted her name into her face. Her eyes were half open and did not track him. Her lips were gray. He pressed harder on the wound and felt her ribs move under his palms. She drew a small breath. Then a smaller one. He begged her to take another. She did not. Her hand slid off the table and hung. He caught it and held it against his cheek and screamed at the ceiling. He cursed the grove. He cursed the ogre already dead. He cursed himself for leaving her to walk that path alone. Her chest stopped. He set his ear to it and heard one slow beat, then a long pause, then nothing he could name. The door banged open behind him. An old elven woman came in fast, white hair loose, a green scarf at her throat. She had followed from the crowd on the road. She shoved Dorian aside without a word and put two fingers to Lyra's neck. She said her name was Elara Moonwhisper and told him to hold the arm closed. She pulled fresh yarrow from her own pouch and packed the side wound deeper than he had dared. She began to sing, low and even. The tune was the one Lyra used. Elara's hands did not shake. She said she had been a healer once, before she lost her husband to a wound like this, and had not sung over anyone since. Lyra's chest rose. It rose again. Color came back into her mouth in a thin line. Elara kept singing and did not look up. Dorian held the arm shut and wept without sound. After a long time Elara tied off the last binding and sat back on the stool. She told him Lyra would live, and would sleep a day, and would need care he did not know how to give. She said she would stay. Dorian put his forehead to Lyra's hand and did not let go.