The Hidden Crystal

Chapter 11

"What the heck was that?"

Char shook his head, staring wide-eyed at Iris' limp form on the bed. Flickers of her magic still danced around the room, tiny white bursts like snowflakes drifting through the air. Her signature. Blood was still dripping from her side, but nobody made a move toward her. That was powerful - terrifying. He had never felt magic like that before. It made his heart stop; it blinded him and threw everybody back from her. He thought her magic was safe, only useful for protection or healing. It wasn't. That short burst could have easily killed everybody in the room if she hadn't directed it inward. She didn't know her own power. Neither did he.

He exhaled deeply and dragged his hand across his face. "How's Srot?"

That seemed to wake everybody up. They turned away from Iris to Srot's sleeping form in the next bed. The doctor examined him thoroughly, but it was easy to see that he was much improved already. No longer was he tossing and turning, sweat pouring down his face. The blood on his arms and stomach was congealing. Char looked back at Iris. The wounds were on her now; the blood was still pouring from her side. He swallowed his fear and approached her still form. Her face was pale; sweat matted her chestnut brown hair down around her face. Blood stained the faded blue fabric of her dress, a dark spot spreading across her stomach. The amulet was just a clear glass stone again, rising and falling on her chest with each labored breath. He should do something. He should pack that wound off, put pressure on it, anything to stop the bleeding.

That would mean he had to touch her, though

He wanted to, just a few minutes ago, when he found her cowering in that cell. Her frightened brown eyes had pierced his heart. He'd wanted to wrap her up in a tight embrace, maybe steal another kiss, but he couldn't waste what little time remained of Srot's fading life. Now he was afraid to touch her. Afraid of her.

Maybe Rath was right.

"Where is she?"

Char looked over at the door. The mage's narrowed golden eyes fixed on Iris, and he hurried across the room to her side, beginning his examination, very much like the doctor's examination of Srot. Char turned away to join Kelnor and the others.

"What are you all staring at?" Srot mumbled irritably, his deep purple eyes fluttering open. "Can't a man sleep around here?" He yawned and sat up, inspecting his arms and his bare torso. "Man, I need a bath."

"You're alive," Kelnor said hoarsely.

"Yeah, I'm alive," Srot said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Where's that girl? Is that her?"

"You know about her?" Char asked.

Srot was on his feet and walking over to Iris, as strong and sure as he had been before the battle.

"Stay back," the mage warned, throwing his arm out.

Srot swatted it away. "Iris, right?"

"How do you know that?" the mage asked, his mystified golden eyes leaving Iris to look up at Srot.

"She was just in my head. I think I should know a thing or two about her," Srot replied. "Is she going to make it?"

"What do you mean, in your head?" Char asked, approaching cautiously.

"Ah, it's kind of hard to explain," Srot said, his eyes darkening as he studied her. "It was like...she had to go back to the battle, to the moment those arrows hit me, to take the injuries herself. Looks like they're healing already."

Char looked down at her, and the flow of blood had stopped. She was still deathly pale, though.

"What of the magic?" the mage asked insistently.