War Bird

15. Run When Church Bells Ring.

I get back to the Medical Bay and the first thing I see is Grace, rushing past the entrance looking stressed.

"Oh Marla!" She grabs my arm. "Thank Heavens you're here!"

"What?"

"We've just had a wave of casualties come in." She starts leading me towards the private healing rooms. "I need your help."

"What happened?"

"I don't know the mission specifics," she says. "But a Hawk team went to check up on a family nearby who were afraid of an attack. It was an ambush." She bites her lip. “Half of the Hawks died. The others... well, it’s bad. I’ve never seen curses like this before.”

"But what can I do?" My stomach flips. "I only know how to clean sheets and sterilise stuff!"

"I'm afraid it's all hands on deck," she says. "And I'm in there alone with Private Stanley."

"Why don't I go and get the others from lunch-"

"No time!" She throws open the door to the private room. "Besides, they'll be here soon enough. I just need any pair of hands for what I have to do."

I step in to the room. The air is hazy and smells like nothing I ever smelled before, all dark and headachey. I squint and I can see a young man tied to the bed. He's bare-chested and in Hawk regulation trousers, a shredded jacket lies on the floor. Grace must have cut his clothes off. The ropes on his ankles and wrists are pinking with blood from where he strains against them, his wiry body arching up in what looks an impossible position. How is he managing to stay in such a perfect arch shape? It must really hurt. His mouth gapes in a silent scream as his head swivels slowly and deliberately my way. The room’s strange fragrance turns thicker and more bitter, and as I smell it I really want to lower my head and give up. I close my eyes. All I need to do is sleep, and then I’ll forget everything.

"Fight it Marla!" Grace cries, just as my knees wobble. "Just ignore it!" Her voice is clear and cuts through the fug that is clouding up my brain. I find her eyes, wide and comforting and they bring me back.

"What is it?" I cough and shake my head.

"The air’s full of a Somnus hex." She tugs on a couple of the ropes, checking their strength. "Fortunately, once you're aware of those hexes they are easy to resist. Just concentrate on the task at hand, don't get drawn in by it."

"Is he making that, the hex I mean?" I glance back at the boy, his face gurning with pain.

"I’m not even sure!" She lets out a frustrated laugh. "It's like the curse itself is doing it, like an act of protection almost."

"Curses can do that?"

"Until today I would have said no. This is magic on a whole other level.”

Private Stanley thrashes at the bonds even harder. A noise unlike anything I've ever heard before comes out of his mouth. It's like a riot of football fans screaming death to an idiot referee, a chorus of hate whooshing out of his unnaturally large mouth.

"What do you need me to do?" I ask. The pain on this boy's face is too much. I can't just stand here and watch him die like this. I need to help.

"I have some poultices prepared." She points to a row of soggy looking bags, all lined up on a tray by the bed. Next to them is a bowl of water and sponges and worryingly, a gnarly looking dagger. "I'm going to try a counter-casting, so when I tell you, place the poultices on the marked points of his chest. In this order." She moves her finger around in a clockwise movement, staring with the symbol that lies above his heart. Each symbol is about the size of an 50p and they are all exactly the same. It looks like a vertical line with another squirly line coiling up and around it. It looks like the symbol you sometimes see on hospital signs, like the one where Ribbon was born. Another scream from Private Stanley pushes the thought out of my head.