The Dragon’s Daughter and the Winter Mage by Jeffe Kennedy

~ 21 ~

Isyn had known that the light and warmth his Briar Rose had brought into his life would make it seem all that darker and colder in her absence, but he hadn’t expected the despair to dig its claws in quite so sharply. Dire, gloomy, and morose sort of pessimism. Gen’s teasing words no longer amused him; they haunted his thoughts, circling like the scavengers that would no doubt be feasting on his bones before long.

Sending her back alone had been the right thing to do, but being the one to make the romantic sacrifice wasn’t romantic at all. No wonder none of the ballads dwelled on the person left behind. Well, usually that person immediately died and the tale continued with everyone grieving for them and singing their praises, literally. Would Gendra go tell his parents about his life and—by then—death? Yes, she would. She was exactly the sort of person to take that upon herself. They’d all sit around and weep for him, and his parents would no doubt erect a statue in his honor, and they’d tell the tale of the lost prince of Erie.

Dire, morose, and gloomy pessimism, that was him. All that was left of him anyway, with Gendra gone from him forever. Limping around his small room, which felt like an empty cave without her sparkling presence, he picked up the drawing he’d made of her. It seemed like a faraway fantasy that she’d been there at all. Perhaps it had been a dream, brewed up by fever and unsatisfied longing. But for the drawing of an ideal woman who arguably could be a product of his imagination, it would be more rational to conclude she’d never visited. Jasperina certainly refused to speak of the shapeshifter that had come and gone, she and the folk giving him only betrayed glares as lingering punishment for the whole escapade.

Maybe if he tossed the drawing in the fire, he’d be able to better resign himself to his dismal fate. Holding it in one hand, he hobbled to the fireplace, leaning heavily on the staff. He’d been better off before without the reminder. He hadn’t been happier, but at least he’d been dully reconciled to this twilight existence where beautiful lovers didn’t exist.

He held out the drawing, the heat licking against his skin, the flames making her wild eyes seem to shift, watching him knowingly, when a distant roaring caught his ear. Another attack? Interesting—all he felt was dull interest, no fear or anger. Perhaps today would be a good day to die. At least he’d go quick. Buckling on his sword, he pulled on his alpaca wool cloak.

A knock on his door had him turning, pocketing the drawing. Removing the wards, he called to Jasperina that he was coming. The door flung open to reveal not Jasperina, not a monster, but a man in a fighting stance—sword in one hand, dagger in the other in a throwing hold. Dark eyes, dark hair, and a gold earring in one ear. Bizarrely, a small nighthawk sat on his shoulder, head cocked, one bright eye fastened on him. Isyn gaped in shock, then remembered himself and reached for his sword.

“Don’t do it, Isyn,” the man said in Common Tongue, his body alert. “I’m here to rescue you.”

“Excuse me?” Isyn managed, kicking himself for not thinking faster. He kept his hand near his sword hilt. This guy looked fast, so Isyn doubted he could outdraw him, but he’d hate to go down empty-handed.

“I’m a friend,” the man said. “Well, a friend of a friend, and—”

“Oh, for the sake of the Three, Jak,” a woman said with exasperation. “Lead with words, not blades.” She wedged herself around the bladesman, who side-stepped but kept the throwing dagger trained on Isyn, a warning glint in his eye. With her dark blond hair in a long braid down her back, she wore fighting leathers like he did, daggers sheathed on her hips. “I am Princess Salena Nakoa KauPo. Call me Lena. And we are here to rescue you.” She glared at the man—the Jak of Gendra’s many tales, no doubt—and he grinned back, undaunted.

Isyn’s heart had taken a painful leap, thudding mercilessly in wretched hope and jubilant terror. “Gendra, is she—?” He couldn’t finish the sentence, overwhelmed by the possibilities. She was here. She was dead. She was missing.

“She’s here,” Lena said with a warm smile. “She’s with the shapeshifters rounding up the folk so we can make a clean escape. Once you’re healed enough, that is. Jak, is the room secure enough, or do you want to check under the bed?”

Jak relaxed slightly and checked behind the door. “Hey, anything happens to you or Stella, my ass is dinner for a wolf and a grizzly. I’m good, but I’m not that good.” Apparently satisfied, he shut the door, glancing at Isyn. “Better to ward it again. Just to be safe. Work fast, my star.”

The nighthawk launched from his shoulder, landed on the bed, and chirped expectantly at him.

“You have to shift her back to human,” Lena explained. “Gen said you can.”

“I… what?” His frozen brain felt about six leagues behind the events.

“If you can’t,” Jak said over his shoulder, as he pulled the stool over and perched on it to watch the door, now with a dagger in each hand, “we go to plan B. I don’t like it as much, but we can do it.”

“The nighthawk is Stella,” Lena explained patiently, turning her back on Jak. “She’s a healer, but she can’t heal you while in animal form. Gen said you’re able to use your magery to initiate shapeshifting in this alter-realm. If you can, do it now. She’ll heal you, and we’ll all get out of here.”

Oh. He looked about for the golden net, wondering what he’d done with it. He’d considered pitching it into the sea after Gendra, another dramatic gesture, but—even though his memory of that day was fogged with grief—he kind of thought he hadn’t.

“Is that it?” Lena asked, moving to a pile of things in the corner. “Can I touch it or—”

“Don’t touch it,” Jak barked without looking.

Lena stuck out her tongue at his back, surprising a laugh from Isyn—and finally snapping him out of his stunned state. “It won’t affect you,” he assured Lena, “but I can—”

“You can sit on the bed,” she informed him firmly. “You don’t need to be on that leg more than necessary.”

“I understand why you and Gendra are friends,” he muttered, obediently sitting.

She gave him a radiant smile as she brought him the net. “Gen said we’d like you, and I do.”

“Some of us are reserving judgment,” Jak said, attention on the door. “Hurt my woman—and touching her hurts her, just so you know—and I’ll be gutting you. Gen would forgive me.”

“In your dreams,” Lena retorted. “Now quit distracting us.”

Jak glanced over his shoulder, pointing a dagger at Isyn. “You’ve been warned.”

Lena moved between them to block the sightline. “I don’t want to rush you, Isyn,” she said gently, “but the longer we’re here, the more chance for something to go wrong.”

“Right.” He looked at Stella. “You’re all right with this?”

She chirped, dipping her beak, and Jak muttered something in the background. Laying the net on the bed between them, Isyn nodded to her. “As soon as you touch it, you’ll feel my magic, but you control the shape you take, not me.”

Without hesitation, the nighthawk grasped a cord of the net with a taloned foot, and a young woman appeared in its place, rusty-black hair spilling in a loose veil around her. Wide and solemn gray eyes dominated her delicate face, her serene smile warming them.

“Hello, Prince Isyn. I’m Stella,” she said in dulcet voice that immediately put him at ease. “Gen has told us a great deal about you, as has your family. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He managed to stammer some sort of reply, his memory of how he was meant to greet a quasi-princess and sorceress of her status murky.

Her smile stayed steady, so he must’ve gotten through it all right. “Lie back, and let’s get to work, shall we?” She helped to ease him onto his back, running her hands over him as she did, a thoughtful line between her brows. He flinched, and she raised those brows. “Painful?”

“Ah, no—I thought… no touching,” he whispered, jerking his head in Jak’s direction.

“Jak worries about me excessively,” she said, loudly and clearly. “Me touching you isn’t a problem, so long as I’m using healing magic, which I am, and which Jak knows. He’s just being protective of all of us.”

“All of you?” Isyn echoed.

“We all came along,” Lena told him, leaning against the post at the end of the bed. “Gen insisted on coming back for you, and we weren’t about to let our group get separated again, so all seven of us are here.”

“All of us in one boat, for good or ill,” Jak put in from his guard post. “Metaphorically speaking, naturally, as it meant abandoning our actual boat.”

“What about Falada?” he asked. “Gendra said she’d come with you to help find me.”

“She did.” Stella gave him a solemn look. “But Falada disappeared when Gen went through the rift the first time. We haven’t seen her since.

They hadn’t? But…

“Be still now,” Stella counseled calmly. “First things first.”

Heat emanated from Stella’s hands, disturbing and painful, so Isyn looked to Lena for answers. “And Gendra is doing what?”

“Jak and I are the only ones who aren’t shapeshifters in the group, so we’re pleased to add you to our number,” Lena answered.

Jak muttered something in a harsh language that didn’t sound pleased at all, but both women ignored him, so Isyn did likewise.

“Since they can’t shapeshift on their own once in the alter-realm,” Lena continued, “the others all chose forms good for fighting here—and that could withstand the swim.”

“Fuck me, that water is cold,” Jak inserted, and Lena grimaced ruefully.

“Stella was able to use her sorcery to keep us warm and dry as we went into the rift on the other side,” Lena continued, “but once she shifted, she couldn’t do that anymore. Fortunately, her healing and empathy work here. So it was up to me—I have some weather magic, which works here, like yours does—to warm up the air once we surfaced. It was only partially successful.”

Surfaced.“How did you get through the ice?”

Lena’s eyes lit up. “Zeph went first, in gríobhth form. Not much stands in her way. She cracked through, and we followed. The two of us who still had thumbs and words volunteered to get Stella to you. So, Gen, Willy, Rhy, and Zeph—as saber cat, grizzly, wolf, and gríobhth, respectively—are all downstairs making sure the folk don’t interfere with your rescue. Gen seemed concerned that they might.”

“She’s not wrong,” he conceded, understanding the logic, but still slightly hurt that she hadn’t rushed to his side. Perhaps her feelings had changed once she was no longer trapped with him. He considered mentally reaching out to her. If she was in animal form, they should be able to talk that way. But she knew that, too, and yet she’d said nothing. There must be a reason for that.

“Soooo…” Lena purred, eyes bright in her high-cheekboned Nahanaun face. “Are you in love with our Gen?”

He choked a little on some spit he’d suddenly inhaled.

“Yes,” Jak called. “Tell us about that.” He sounded considerably less friendly, if that was possible.

“Gossip will have to wait,” Stella declared. “Gen is correct that the bone was set wrong. I’ve cleared out the infection and the inflammation, but Jak, it turns out I will need your manly hands to break and reset it.”

“Happy to assist,” Jak declared, much too jauntily. The stool scraped, and he was beside the bed, grinning at Isyn as he stuck both daggers in the bedpost beside Isyn’s head.

“Be nice, Jak,” Stella warned.

“I’m always nice,” he returned, kissing her temple.

“Be nice to Isyn.”

“That was not in the mission instructions. I’d remember.”

Isyn was really feeling substantially better. What a difference it made to have the infection and inflammation gone. “Maybe we don’t need to—” Isyn began.

“We do need to,” Jak replied seriously. “You can’t put weight on this leg. Your muscles have gone to shit. You can’t run. You won’t be able to kick to swim. I saw you—you can barely even stand on your own. And if you’re not in the best condition we can get you into, you’ll jeopardize getting everyone back safely.”

“Especially Gen,” Lena added. “We are grateful—more than we can convey—that you sacrificed yourself to get her home again, but she won’t fall for the same trick twice.”

“We don’t care so much about you,” Jak said with a sly grin, “but we love Gen. We’re doing this for her.”

“And the mission,” Stella reminded him.

“Either way,” Jak agreed amiably, smoothing a hand down her hair. “Gimpy here isn’t going to be the one to screw things up. Not on my watch. What do you want me to do?”

Isyn only half listened to Stella’s explanation, staring steadfastly at the low ceiling, managing not to flinch when Jak plucked a dagger from the bedpost, used it to slit Isyn’s pants leg from cuff to thigh, then casually tossed it back to thunk again into the wood.

Lena grabbed the stool and sat by Isyn’s head. “Jak is deft with his hands,” she told him. “Don’t be fooled by his attitude—that’s just how he deals with pressure. He’ll do right by you, if only because Stella would have his head if he didn’t. Want to hold my hand? No shame.”

Recalling Gendra’s comments about the powerful reassurance of human contact, he accepted the offer. “Thank you.”

“Gen would want me to,” she replied with an easy smile. “She’d be up here if she could, but we all have our assignments, as coming here at all required extensive compromise. Also, she was doubtful she’d even fit through the door in saber-cat form.”

He nodded, though he still wondered. Saber-cat form. She’d never mentioned that to him.

“I should put you unconscious for this,” Stella said, standing next to Lena. Jak was sliding a flat brick under Isyn’s thigh, the edge of it under the break. Isyn could just guess what was coming next. “It’s going to be excruciating.”

“What will you do, exactly?” he asked.

Stella raised a winged brow. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, and when Jak glanced at him, Isyn fancied he saw the first glimmer of respect in the man’s face.

“All right,” Stella replied evenly. “Jak will use the brick as a fulcrum.” She drew a line across his thigh with a light finger, crossing the worst of the tangled scar tissue, which looked considerably less angry. Not for long, apparently. “At my signal, he’ll crack your femur at that point. It will be weak, as it’s barely knitted together now,” she told Jak, who nodded decisively in acknowledgment. At least he was taking this seriously. “As soon as he cracks it, he’ll pull down.” She framed Jak’s hands around Isyn’s leg in demonstration, then met Isyn’s gaze. “I want him to pull hard, to detach as many of the bone fragments as possible. Your muscles and ligaments are atrophied, but they’re also tight and brittle, so they’re going to tear. I’ll be in there with my healing magic, and I can quiet the nerves somewhat, but it’s more important for me to focus on keeping blood clots, bone fragments, and—most concerning—any bone marrow from reaching your brain or heart, where they’ll kill you. I’ll also have to prioritize knitting the blood vessels back together so you don’t internally hemorrhage. Only then can I start pulling the bone and other tissues together again. It won’t be fast, and it’s going to be agonizing. No one will blame you if you prefer to be unconscious.”

Jak gave him a long look, shaking his head minutely.

“If I’m unconscious, the wards drop, and you’ll be vulnerable,” he noted, and Jak grimaced.

“Our people have things well in hand,” Lena reassured him.

“And it takes healing energy to knock me out,” he guessed, Jak giving a flicker of confirmation. “I’ll stay awake.”

Stella gave Jak an accusing look, and he smiled winningly, the picture of innocence. Moving with agile speed, he plucked a dagger from the bedpost and offered the hilt to Isyn. “Put it between your teeth and bite down,” he suggested. “Helps to keep the screaming down.”

Isyn glared at him, unamused. “I’ll go for something cleaner, thanks all the same.” Grabbing a fold of blanket, he rolled it and stuck that between his teeth.

“Have it your way,” Jak replied cheerfully, getting back into position, laying the sharp edge of his forearm against the fulcrum point. “Don’t crush Lena’s hand, or Rhy will be all over you,” Jak cautioned as Stella minutely adjusted the position of his arm.

“Me and my hands are not Rhy’s business,” Lena told him, then smiled at Isyn. “Squeeze as hard as you need to. I promised Gen.”

That made him feel better, that Gen had worried about him enduring this.

“Ready?” Stella asked, and Isyn nodded, focusing on the ceiling. She laid her hands on his thigh above the break. “Go.”

Jak twisted his shoulder, snapping down with his weight, the bone splitting in an excruciating wave. Isyn had promised himself he wouldn’t scream, and indeed he didn’t because no more than a guttural choking sound made it out. Before Isyn had begun to assimilate the growing wave of agony, Jak pulled down, the tissues tearing and hot blood pulsing in a black wave through Isyn’s vision. Healing magic seared in its wake, like an internal cauterization. He chewed on the blanket between his teeth, throwing his head back to contain the screams climbing up his throat.

“You’re through the worst of it,” Lena murmured. “You’re doing so well. I understand what Gen sees in you. It takes a lot to impress her, and you’ve done it.”

Stella gave quiet instructions to Jak, each time resulting in an adjustment that sent new waves of pain up through his spine. Gradually the excruciating disruption eased into a more basically nauseating agony, Jak finally releasing his vising grip from Isyn’s leg. Stella had him go to Isyn’s feet and grasp Isyn’s ankles, aligning them as she checked the position of his hips, giving him an absentminded smile. “We don’t want to go to this much trouble only to have one leg be shorter than the other. Bite down.” She signaled to his tormentor, and Jak did something that sent a fresh wave of agony through him.

After that, the pain gradually subsided, the healing magic less unbearable and more comforting with every passing moment. The warmth made him sleepy… and Lena squeezed his hand. “Don’t sleep,” she ordered. “This is my other job, and the other reason it was better to keep you awake for this. Normally it’s best to sleep off the healing, and your body will want to, but we don’t have time for that. Nilly is going to give you a wake-up jolt in a moment, then we’re out of here as fast as possible.”

“You’ll still be gimpy,” Jak said, coming to retrieve his blades, “because there’s only so much Stella can do about those weak-ass leg muscles of yours. But you should be reasonably mobile. Once we get you out of here, I can help whip you back into shape.” He grinned with lethal anticipation.

“Jak,” Lena huffed his name in exasperation. “Do you have to?”

“It’s a guy thing,” he replied. “Isyn gets it.”

She glared at him. “Dick-swinging, here and now, really?”

Jak tugged a wisp of her hair that had escaped the braid. “There’s never a wrong time for dick-swinging, darling Lena.”

“That takes care of it,” Stella said, straightening, Jak immediately steadying her as she swayed, none of the irreverent mischief in evidence as he embraced her, murmuring a question in her ear. She nodded, pushing at him enough to look past his shoulder at Isyn. “Go ahead and try the leg.”

“Isyn,”Gen’s voice sounded in his head, heightened by the pitch of a raging battle. “Tell Jak we need help. We’re under attack, not the folk. Tentacle monster and monkey lizards. Tell Stella to call Astar. I can’t reach him.”

Tersely, he relayed the message, Jak springing for his blades and Stella closing her eyes, presumably to call her twin. “You three stay here,” Jak said, heading to the door.

“I’m coming,” Isyn replied, making it clear he wouldn’t be dissuaded.

“You sure?” Jak cocked an eye at Isyn’s leg, which felt whole, though cursed weak.

“I can wield a blade,” he replied, making for his sword.

“Use this one.” Jak tossed him his own sword. “Silversteel works best, Astar’s in no form to wield it, and I prefer my daggers.”

“Astar and Zeph are outside and under attack, also,” Stella informed them. “You have the Star?” she asked Jak.

He patted his chest. “Right over my heart.”

“Good. I’m coming, too.” She held out a hand to Isyn. “Shift me.”

“Stella,” Jak began, “you’re tired from—”

“I’m tired from healing, yes. I can still fight,” she snapped at him. “And if we lose all of you, Lena and I are dead along with you.” She turned a silver-bright stare on Isyn. “Shift me.”

Pulling the rope from the pocket of his cloak, he laid the piece across her palm and sent the magery through her. A black jaguar stood in her place briefly before bounding to the door. Isyn hastily dropped the wards, Jak unbarred it, and they ran through. “Bar the door behind me,” he told Lena, and she nodded. No argument from her.

“We’re on our way,”Isyn belatedly replied to Gen as he ran—all right, quick-hobbled—out the door.