Ortai Legacy: Descent

8.4 - Drykon Ranch (L)

The big Tundra drykon stood, her feathery legs forming a barrier between me and the little one. He'd been named Frost, hadn't he?

[Hello...] I swallowed as the big drykon partly opened a gray beak full of razor-sharp teeth. My graxi reacted to my nerves by coiling and uncoiling beneath my cloak. I patted them in a vain attempt to make them calm down. [I'm the telepath. Uh, he's not a drykon.] I gestured at Mar'kost.

The big drykon glared at him. [I can see that.]

[No, I mean he's the fake drykon I was riding on earlier. Remember, he-]

[I remember.] She inhaled deeply. [Doesn't smell like he brought food.]

[Food comes after you get fixed up.] I watched Mar'kost move to the pen's gate. [Please don't hurt him.]

[We'll see.]

Frost smacked her leg with his tail. [Old One, you may rest assured that Glacier won't harm your companion.]

Mar'kost slipped inside the pen and set down his bag before extracting a roll of bandages. He started working on Glacier's wing.

[That's an Old One?] She lowered her head to my level. [Smells weaker than I would've guessed.]

Annoyed by the insult, I ignored her in favor of addressing Frost. [Have you seen other Or- Old Ones?]

His head crest raised and lowered. [My father gave me a memory from his ancestor. She carried a crystal rider, of a different type than you.]

[Are they still alive? Do you know where they are?]

He cocked his head. [He's long dead. Do you want to know his burial site?]

[No, that's not- nevermind.] Yet another faint hope, dashed to pieces. It was all I could do to maintain a facade of indifference in front of the others. I fixated on Mar'kost—my one constant support in this place. He clamped Glacier's wing bone to a pole before binding the wing closed so she couldn't put weight on it.

He ran his hands through her chest feathers and uncovered splotches of blood. [Do you want me to apply a numbing cream and wait for it to take effect, or do you want me to finish as quickly as possible? To be clear, the cream isn't strong enough to eliminate all pain, even for minor flesh wounds.]

[Get it over with.] She braced her good wing against the fence.

He came at her chest with sturdy-looking tweezers. I watched, wide-eyed, as he proceeded to remove little chunks of metal from her wounds.

"What are those?" I asked.

"Bullets. They're small pieces of metal that erupt from-"

"Oh, I know what bullets are. We have guns on Earth too." I stared at the bewilderingly small amount of blood that oozed from the shallow bullet wounds. "Ours are strong enough to kill, though."

"So are ours." He nodded at Frost. "He nearly died from a bullet wound because his shielding isn't as impressive as his telepathy."

Ah, it was a magic thing. Lucky Glacier—I couldn't even twist my ankle without breaking off a limb. A bullet would undoubtedly shatter me. Even now, my previously broken leg ached when I put weight on it for more than a minute. Leaning on the fence, I eased myself to the ground. Technically speaking, I was within Glacier's striking range, but I doubted she would attack me at this point. At least, not until after she was fully treated and fed. Nonetheless, I kept a keen eye on her.

Frost's amber eyes met mine. [You may relax. We don't repay kindness with aggression. Even if we razed this estate to the ground, you and your lifemate would be spared.]