UNMARKED

32: Healing

Blayre dreamed she was slogging through a pit of mud, while a pack of Lady Marianna's prized hounds gave chase. Every movement was painfully slow and she was sinking lower and lower - knee deep, hip deep, waist deep, shoulders, neck... She couldn't move, couldn't breathe and the dogs were yapping at her. Which was strange - when she stopped panicking long enough to think about it - because dogs hated her stepmother.

Suddenly she was burning up, and when she cleared the caked mud away from her vision, Blayre opened her eyes to see a dragon leaning over her, its exhaled breath scalding her. It's scales were an iridescent blue and teal, like the ocean under a clear blue sky. It's eyes glimmered like two star sapphires. 

The dragon reached down and delicately picked her up by her tunic, pulling her from the mud. Suddenly there were the shouts of people all around her. Like a crowd yelling and pushing and shoving their way through. Perhaps they are trying to free me from the dragon, she thought. Though the dragon only seemed to be helping her, and when she twisted herself around to get a glimpse, she could see no one.

The dragon was gathering itself, coiled muscles vibrating and wings twitching in preparation to take off in flight when suddenly her eyes flew open and the dream was cut short.

****

A strange woman was peering over her, heavy lidded eyes filled with concern. "Oh!" She exclaimed. "You're awake!"

"I..." Blayre coughed, her throat dry and cracked. "Am."

The woman scurried a few feet away, her back turned to Blayre who could barely make out her stocky form through blurred vision.

"Where...am... I?" Blayre ground out, eyes gradually focusing on her surroundings. Canvas walls surrounded her and mage-light orbs small enough to hold in one hand gave off a warm bright glow, illuminating the space.

"Here. Drink this and then talk." The woman held a glass of cool liquid to Blayre's lips and Blayre almost obliged until the memory of what had happened before she woke up struck her with sudden clarity.

Panic set in, as she recalled the damp cloth. The drugged cloth that had covered her face before she lost consciousness. "No..." Blayre said, struggling to sit up in bed and pulling her legs up, scurrying back like a crab. Twelve hells, someone had kidnapped her.

The woman looked startled. "You should really drink some water, you've been asleep for nearly two days, you must be parched. When Caval brought you here..."

"Caval?" Blayre froze. "He did this?"

The woman had the decency to look uncomfortable as she said, "Trust me, I am not trying to poison you. No one would bring you here alive if they wanted you dead. He is the one who helped you."

Blayre said nothing, instead fixing the woman with a glare.

"I will go get him." The woman sighed. "Please, drink though?" She took a sip of the water herself to prove it was safe, then held it out to Blayre again. Reluctantly, Blayre accepted, glaring over the rim of the pewter mug as the woman just about sprinted out of the stone-walled room, apparently to fetch Caval.

Caval. Moon and Sun what had he done?

Blayre sucked down the water despite herself - and it did taste like water, and only water. She set the pewter cup down gently on the table beside the cot she was on and slowly began to move stiff muscles and joints to get herself out of bed. Once off the cot she scanned the room for her boots - she was still fully clothed - though missing a few things since she had gone out to investigate in the middle of the night. Though she had had the wherewithal to strap on her knives before going out into the dark.