The Pirate's Legacy: New Identities

Chapter 29: The Observant Owl

The darkness outside the window described the deepest of night to which Roger had opened his eyes. He was groggy. His state of consciousness stood in the between worlds of sleeping and wakefulness, and he couldn't quite bring himself to step back into Hypnosis's realm because the unfamiliar surroundings made him uneasy. He didn't remember how he'd gotten into this room.

Slight movement on his right drew his attention. Roger looked down to discover Em's face a few inches from his own. She slept like a princess put to a hundred years of slumber, and like a princess who needed such amount of sleep, Em looked like the very portrait of utter exhaustion. The skin not discolored by bruises nor marked by small cuts was pale. Her face was drawn, with faint bags underneath her eyes. She'd removed her cloak, so she wore only her worn-out cotton shirt with its holes and ragged trousers. Her shoulder-length hair was matted.

Em lay curled up in the crook of his arm, which was wrapped around her waist. This arm was the same injured limb the drake had bitten, but Roger felt no longer the burning pain, just soreness from the pressure he put to hold her to him.

"Go back to sleep," Em whispered.

Roger narrowed his eyes, but her own were closed. Only a small frown on her lips indicated her consciousness. She was waiting for him. For once, Roger didn't argue with Em. He tightened his arm around her before shutting his eyes.

MMMMMM

When Roger woke up again, Em stood over him, checking his wounds. She had cleaned the blood off his body while he'd been unconscious. Now that he was fully awake, Roger examined his arm and abdomen. The healing water had done its work on those areas as well as the rest of his body. Very light scars remained. His arm did not stink with infection anymore. Though a little tired, his body no longer raged with fever. One thing that caught Roger's notice was that not only had the latest cuts and bruises healed, but old scars from past injuries on the front side of his body were gone as well.

Struck with realization, Roger reached up to his mouth. Mixed emotions of relief and bitterness washed over him like a cold wave when the calloused pads of his fingers reacquainted themselves with his jagged scar. He looked up and saw that Em noticed he was awake. She watched him with a lopsided smile as he removed his hand hastily from his mouth.

"Yes, that is strange," she remarked. "I don't know why it's still there." She dared not ask his opinion of it, however, and instead lowered her gaze to watch her fingertips lightly trail down his lower arm. Roger's fingers twitched. To distract himself from the feel of her touch, he remembered how close he'd been to losing his arm. If Em had not forced him to drink her healing water, the delegate surely would have had to amputate the limb. The gravity of the situation in which he'd put himself to hide his wounds from everyone finally hit him.

As if Em sensed his thoughts, she took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "I would have never allowed you to lose such an important part of yourself." Her gaze never left his.

Roger's eyes trailed down her face, taking note of every bruise and cut that Salamus had inflicted upon her. Again Roger wished he had killed the Draconian leader when he'd had that chance laid out in front of him. He stared at Em's lower body. He could only wonder how she could be standing without showing any discomfort. He rolled his head toward the bedside table when he remembered where she had put down the silver flask.

"Is there any more left inside?" he asked her hoarsely.

Em suppressed the wince that the harshness of his voice had elicited. She nodded. As Roger reached over to take the flask, she said, "I plan to give the rest to Leo—"

"No, you drink it." There were so few drops left inside. He'd be damned if he'd let her bastard kin heal while Em stayed injured. Roger remembered hearing very clearly that Leo had wanted him to die. He forced the flask into Em's hands.