The Archer's Star

Chapter 2

Siro grabs my shoulders firmly and nudges me toward the animal.

"Lark, can you help?" he pleads. A mixture of hope and worry play across his face, as chaos begins to ensue around us. He brings both hands up to his face and rakes his hands through the dark hair that has flopped over his forehead.

People rush to hurry themselves and their young children away from the scene; tinted, broken glass is being kicked across the floor. An open gash in the thick glass shell of the building is causing confusion and alarm to spread.

A shrill beeping begins and the woman next to me puts her fingers in her ears as she runs toward the Sprinkle's exit.

I swallow my reply and begin to walk toward the owl. Si flips his wrist over to send a text-prompt to the Med-Vet Authorities.

Sunlight and a cold gust of air pour through the ruptured window. An older man stands in awe, gaping at the blue sky through the opening. A gray-haired woman grabs his arm and jerks him away from the pool of light as she pushes him towards the inner corridor.

As I near the bird, his wing extends open giving me access to see the puncture wound as if he knows I may be able to help. Blood is puddling gradually and I am careful not to kneel in it. Outside-animal blood is known to be disease contaminated, and I don't have gloves or a mask.

I've never been this close to an owl. All of my reading and studying over the years never prepared me for how beautiful their soft feathers and patterns would look in person. This particular owl is larger than I thought most would be. The single open wing must be over a meter wide.

I wrap my sleeve over my hand as I reach to gently pull back the feathers near the wound. I find its eyes and piercing anxiety rushes over me. A jumble of discomfort and misery follow and I pull my hands back quickly, as I'm overwhelmed by the rush of emotions.

I look back to find Siro and he is standing a few feet behind me, his wrist turned upward speaking to the image of a woman. He sees me look back at him and nods to me, "Help is on the way."

I've always been amazed at his ability to think straight and stay calm when it seems that everyone else is flustered. Even in a situation as strange as this one, Si seems to have everything under control.

I, on the other hand, can not seem to find the right move to make other than gawking at the bird. My heart is racing, and my hands begin to sweat. I've never actually seen an arrow before outside of the Saiph Museum's glass display case.

I remember my training and run through my internal checklist: First, make sure the animal is breathing ok. I see his chest moving slightly, so he seems to be. Second, I try to remember facts about puncture wounds, and I know a triangular-headed arrow can not simply be pulled out. This owl will need to be cut open. The most I can do is try to keep it calm, but my insides are twisting.

Seconds later large hands harshly grip me from behind and my legs are splayed in front of me as I am dragged backward away from the bird.

A piercing shriek fills the hall, the decibel level louder than the shrill alarm beep. The owl is screaming as I am pulled away.

Instinctively, I jam my elbow backward and connect with the knee of the assailant yanking me back. The hands drop me a few meters away from the spot I knelt.

I glare upward at the gray uniform-clad man. He scowls at me darkly.

"Stay back," he says loudly in a gruff voice.

This man wouldn't know I have any training with animals. I don't have any of the standard level veterinarian's uniforms on. I probably look like a teenager that just wanted to get a closer look.

Anger is bursting to escape my lips. I want to tell the man he's wrong, but before I can even stand up he and a group of others in the same gray uniform surround the bird and quickly cover it in a tent-structure as it is transferred to a med-pushcart and begin to roll it away.

The shrieking has stopped and I know they must have tranquilized the bird. The rush of anxiety and discomfort seem to be fading away as the cart travels further into the inner corridor.

White uniformed custodians begin pouring into the dining hall. Blue powder is sprinkled over the blood and it instantly seems to evaporate into the air leaving sparkling, clean, white tile.

The shards of glass that have been strewn across the floor are being swept up hurriedly. Black sheets of algae insulation are being tautly strung across the shattered window.

I realize aside from the custodians, Si and I are the only ones left in the dining hall. He appears at my side and extends his hand to help me up.

"Are you alright, Lark?" he asks. He bends down to me when I don't accept his offer up. I'm too upset to think straight. He sits on the floor next to me and reaches over to put his hand on my knee.

"Si, I... I... couldn't help him," I say quietly. "It all happened so fast, and I don't even know where they are taking him. I got so overwhelmed..."

I put my head into my hands covering my eyes and Si starts to stroke the back of my hair.

"Hey, it's ok. Don't worry. I spoke to Doctor Nera and she's heading up the surgery now. He's going to be fine."

He looks into my watery eyes to see the surprise on my face as I lift my head. His lips lift in his signature nonchalant smile and his finger brushes my cheek as he grabs my hand, pulling us both to our feet.

His assurance seems to ease my tension, and I brush debris from the floor off my dark pants. My hand brushes a wet spot on my knee and I glance at my fingers in horror to see a dark smear of red blood. I stare wide-eyed at Si, my hand extended in front of me as if somehow he can fix this, too.

I'm contaminated...

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Love, Angela