Cut From A Tattered Cloth

Chapter 15

Tokuda looked like a total maniac. But, there was no alcohol, so Kelly gave him that.

He found him in the training room of his Spire. Hair disheveled, bags under his eyes. Still wearing his bloody tank top from the day before.

Papers lay scattered on the wrestling mats around him and his comm was flat on the ground. He'd projected the screen to full size, and sat cross-legged in front of it like a monitor, scribbling notes as he scanned through digital documents. Kelly caught glimpses of old photos, news reports, and Tokuda's own untidy handwriting.

"Well," he said, "Somebody's been busy."

Tokuda jumped. A fabric coil shot out. Kelly ducked out of the way as it cracked the air where his face used to be. Realizing who it was, Tokuda relaxed.

"Oh, Kell," he said, stifling a yawn as he turned back to the screen. "Good morning."

"Morning?" Kelly raised an eyebrow. He checked his comm. "Toks, it's past lunchtime. How long have you been at this?"

"Long enough."

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Does it look like it?"

Kelly shook his head. He was annoyed Tokuda hadn't been answering his calls, but glad it was because he was here, rather than slipping into old habits. Kelly had worried he'd find him drunk in an alley somewhere. Especially after what happened at the embassy.

"How's the kid?" he asked.

He followed Tokuda's gaze to the dirt patch where she slept. She was on her side, Tokuda's ragged cloak draped over like a blanket. Grass had sprouted in the earth beneath her. Ti leaf trees and flowers curled around her like a cocoon, along with several other plants Kelly didn't recognize. A faint light pulsed off of the plants. It was so subtle that, if they had been outside, it might've been mistaken for the sunlight reflecting off of them.

Kelly had seen this before, and still found it unsettling. It reminded him of a funeral wake. But he knew that it helped her to heal faster. There were rules to this type of plant magic that neither Tokuda nor Melia could explain. The most peculiar of which was that Melia couldn't make a healing garden for anyone else. In fact, she couldn't even make one when she was awake. If Tokuda hadn't triggered it during their first major assignment together, Kelly wouldn't be surprised if she went her whole life without ever knowing that she could heal herself.

Three months ago, in the Wilds, Melia contracted a deadly virus. The two of them were so far from civilization that their comms didn't work and their only method of transportation was a borrowed horse Tokuda nearly rode into the ground after forcing it to run nonstop for five hours.

When he finally let the poor creature rest, Tokuda carried Melia into the shade of a nearby plateau. She'd been unconscious for hours, her skin fading from warm brown to something like an ashy gray. He laid her on the red dirt, intending to let her sleep while he tried to get a signal on his comm. But, to his surprise, a cradle of ti leaves and flowers bloomed around her. Startled, he watched as more flowers appeared, light pulsing off of them as they emerged from the ground. The tension eased from her face, and by the time she woke up she was completely healed.

There were still a lot of things Tokuda didn't understand about it, but a few things he knew for certain. Rule number one was that the healing garden only worked when Melia was sleeping. It only came for severe illness or injuries. And if she wasn't directly touching the earth, it wouldn't come, at all.

"She's better," Tokuda said. "The bruises are gone now."

His voice trailed off. Kelly didn't need him to say the quiet part out loud. Yes, Melia was better. But nearly twenty-four hours had passed and she still hadn't woken up. Kelly didn't need him to tell him he was worried, either. He could see it in his bloodshot eyes.