In The Lair of the Draca (Book 2)

In the Lair of the Draca (Book 2) Chapter 56: Awake

Ziuta opened her eyes.

The first thing she was aware of was a pressing, sore need for Gormaq's arms. Because of her unfortunate near-drowning, there were things that she never again would be able to remember: where she had been born, who her mother was, who her original father was...even where she had come from (although she would never lose her sense of foreign-ness). Ziuta remembered only that she had done something very wrong-- something which the People of Weema had attempted to kill her for-- and she longed more than anything to experience the feel of her father's protective arms around her now.

But Gormaq was nowhere.

Her surroundings felt familiar; even in the haze of finally coming to, she welcomed the intimacy of Hallow's Wood and the perservering limbs (complete with fuzzy leaves and beautiful white blossoms) of the bolberry trees, which surrendered the refreshing scent of new buds into the cool air which kissed her sleeping place.

Ziuta sat up and blinked, rubbing her eyes and wondering if it were morning or night. Her chest burned beyond belief; with each breath, she felt as though the atmosphere had been doused with sulphur. Her insides felt bruised and broken. Her hands fluttered from her eyes to her breasts, like pale white butterflies, where she became aware of the tight bandage that bound her from her upper chest to her navel. Someone had obviously tried to administer aid, but who?

Her breaths came in shallow gasps. If Ziuta breathed deeply, then she felt the strong urge to cough, and coughing only made her feel as though her ribs were breaking all over again.

Her head felt bloated and throbbed mercilessly. She looked to her ankles and wrists, which still had the purplish bruising of wounds received where she had been bound with Three Fingers' manacles. Ziuta's feet and hands were puffy and dimpled; when she pressed a finger into the skin of her palm, the indent of her fingerprint remained for a good ten heart-beats before disappearing. Even her eyes burned, and she could not see very well without squinting.

Thinking that her neck and back had been covered with brambles or twigs from Haven's Creek, Ziuta reached with her left hand to brush them away and found that the 'brambles' were actually a tangled mess of what had once been her sleek, shiny, well-combed tresses. Now her hair was a snarled nest of thorns and prickles, in some areas so matted that a fruit bird could have laid several clutches of eggs there without her even knowing it.

What happened to me? Could I have been so ill-behaved that Amiechek and Malaraq would have really wanted me to die? And who saved me? Was it Water Fly?

Ziuta rolled onto her belly and braced herself with her forearms to try for a sitting position, surprised at her sharp cries of pain. She had hoped feverishly that Water Fly had been the one to rescue her from the water: she had not seen her jet-skinned creek friend in what seemed like months, and Ziuta was starving for companionship. She felt abandoned, unwanted, even hated. If only she were back home, safe in the hickory-scented lodge which belonged to Gormaq and Mother! Did they, too, know where she was? And if they did, why did they not try to find her?

A full minute later, Ziuta was successful in climbing to her feet. She clutched at the binding on her chest and briefly considered removing it, since its stricture prevented her from taking a deep breath, but in the end she let it be. If her ribs truly were broken (and they felt as though they were) she did not think she could endure the pain if her chest were permitted to expand.

Instead, she took careful, mincing steps away from the clearing and through the bolberry trees, stopping only when she came to the damp edge of Haven's creek. At her feet, a group of two or three tiny turtles struggled to launch themselves into the water, while above her, a pair of nesting fruit birds scolded at her for interrupting their tranquility.