Page 15 of Adtovar (The Alliance Rescue #1)
It would be a risk, but I could think of nothing else.
Exsanguination expected in seven minutes.
Fuck!
“Girls, I need help.”
“What do you need?” Sureeta’s purple gaze swept around the room, daring the others to refuse my plea.
My mind spun, trying to remember the recipe.
“Sureeta, I need you to go to the dining hall. Along the wall, next to the kitchen, there are some small yellow rocks. I need you to get me as many as you can find.” I’d noticed a collection of sulfur crystals piled there yesterday and hoped no one had swept them away.
Her dark purple gaze met mine, and she nodded, lips set into a grim line. “Hurry,” I urged.
She was out the door before I could move my attention to the others. “Meeka, Teenalia, I need you to go to where they store the cleaning supplies. Do you know where that is?”
They nodded in unison.
“The black rocks that we use for soaking up spills. Bring me as many as you can carry. Hurry!”
They took off at a run.
“Kysia, Emmiait, I need as many clean cloths as you can find and water, lots of the cleanest water we have.”
I didn’t need to say hurry this time.
“What can I do to help?” Only Lafalia remained. I knew her ribs hadn’t completely healed, but I needed everyone to save Adtovar.
“I need you to go into my cell. You know the wooden bowl and rock I use to crush up the gray pebbles?”
She nodded.
“Grab them and fill the bowl with as many of the light gray pebbles as you can.”
She nodded again, but paused, her eyes darting over Adtovar’s pale figure. Without a word, she bent, ripping off her skirt—the only one she possessed—and pressed the cloth to Adtovar’s wound.
“You can save him. I know it.” She murmured before dashing from the room.
I wished I possessed her confidence.
Exsanguination expected in six minutes.
Lafalia returned first, and I set her on grinding the gray pebbles to dust using my makeshift motor and pestle.
Kysia and Emmiait returned with their arms full of cloth and a large pitcher of water. I took the fabric from them, tossing away the blood-soaked mess I’d been using to clog Adtovar’s wound. It landed in the corner with a loud splat.
Sureeta came in next, dumping six yellow rocks on the bedside table. I switched with her, showing her how to put pressure against the still-bleeding wound. Sureeta was much stronger than me. Hopefully, she could staunch the bleeding enough to give us more time.
Carefully, not wanting to lose an ounce of dust, I poured the gray power Lafalia had ground onto a strip of cloth. Rinsing the yellow rocks off with water, I dried them on the hem of my tunic, dropped them into the motor, and began pounding.
Exsanguination expected in five minutes.
Tears filled my eyes, and I swiped them away with the back of my hand. No telling how saltwater might affect the efficacy of my concoction.
“Is this enough?”
I glanced up to see Teenalia and Meeka run into the room, their fingers blackened from the charcoal they carried. I dumped out the coarse yellow sulfur power on a scrap of fabric and snatched a handful of charcoal, dumping it in the mortar and turning it into power with a few pounds of the stone.
Exsanguination expected in four minutes.
“Is this voodoo magick?” Meeka murmured, as they gathered around the bed, worried eyes intent on the male that had come to mean so much... to all of us.
“It’s science,” I said, pouring the black powder onto a strip of cloth, then slowly filled the mortar with equal parts gray, yellow, and black dust. “The gray stones are niter, the yellow is sulfur crystals, and the black is charcoal. Mixed together, it forms something called gunpowder that hopefully will cauterize the wound and stop the bleeding.” I don’t know why I told them.
I could tell from their expressions that none of them truly understood.
But it made me calmer to talk as I swirled the contents together, forming a dark gray power that reminded me of sand.
Something about saying the words made the science seem sounder and more effective.
And that gave me hope that this Hail Mary just might work.
I didn’t want to consider the alternative.
Holding the mortar to my chest like a most prized possession, I moved to the bed, settling on the cot beside Adtovar. The blood-soaked blanket squelched coldly underneath my thighs. He didn’t look alive—so pale, and his chest barely rose with breath.
Exsanguination expected in three minutes.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I nodded to Sureeta, who stepped back, her hands full of blood-drenched cloth.
The wound spurted with alarming intensity, sending out a vivid spray of dark purple that, while terrifying, pinpointed the precise location of the arterial tear.
My hand trembled, yet I managed to sprinkle a line of charcoal dust along the jagged seam of the wound.
The fine, dark particles contrasted starkly against his pale skin and the deep red flesh of the gash.
I used my fingers, now smeared with both dust and blood, to push small granules deeper into the wound, packing it closer to the artery, praying with every move I made.
Exsanguination expected in two minutes.
“Emmiait, I need your fire.”
It was her most prized possession, the one thing she retained from her previous life as a blacksmith’s daughter. It was the alien version of a match, a small silver tube with a red tip that, when squeezed, emitted a spark of fire. She handed it over without hesitation.
“Please let this work,” I whispered to any god, goddess, ancestor, or spirit that might be listening.
Adtovar had not regained consciousness, but at the sound of my voice, he moaned softly. On impulse, I cupped his cheek and lowered my lips to his ear. “I’m so sorry, Adtovar. I don’t know any other way to save you.” I let my lips brush across his cheek. “This is going to hurt.”
I squeezed the firestick, causing a spark to erupt from the tip and touched it to the gunpowder.
There wasn’t a moment to worry that it didn’t work.
Instantly, a bright flash erupted, accompanied by a sharp hiss, as the powder ignited in a brief but intense burst of light and heat.
Adtovar jerked involuntarily, his eyelashes fluttering rapidly as a low groan escaped his lips.
He slipped back into the depths of unconsciousness, his breathing steady.
Exsanguination avoided.
I picked the medi-unit up and threw it against the wall. It made a dull thwack against the stones and fell to the floor in a dented heap.
“Is he going to be okay?” Lafalia asked.
I turned my head to glance at her, noticing her face was wet with tears, just like mine.
“I think so.”
A collective sigh of relief echoed through the small, dimly lit cell, bouncing off the cold stone walls and mingling with the faint drip of water from a leaky, rusty pipe.
“What else can we do?” Sureeta made herself busy picking up the blood-soaked cloths and piling them in the corner. The visual reminder of how much blood Adtovar lost made me shudder. A human would have died twice over.
“He needs rest... and liquids. Water, but it would be better if he had some kind of broth, something with protein.” Sometimes, the gladiators got meat to eat, but not often. Never the females.
“Ockus is working in the kitchen tonight. I’ll see what I can do,” Emmiait told me with a bawdy wink. As a gladiator, Ockus was a much better chef. He’d never won Emmiait as a prize, but that hadn’t stopped the two of them.
“I’ll get rid of the bloody cloth and bedding,” Sureeta said, pulling the drenched blanket from under Adtovar’s form with no more than a soft grunt of effort. “We don’t need to let the others know how badly he’s hurt.”
“I agree,” I said, grateful her brain was working. The waning adrenaline had turned mine to mush.
“We saw some extra bedding when we grabbed the black rocks. I think we can sneak some out without anyone knowing,” Meeka suggested.
“Everybody, be careful, please. I don’t think I have it in me to patch anyone else up tonight.” I begged with a sound meant to be a laugh, but sounding more like a sob.
“You don’t need to do anything,” Kysia told me, with a pat of her long fingers against my cheek. “We’ll take care of everything.”
And they did.
The females scrubbed the cell thoroughly, erasing every trace of blood and dirt.
The air filled with the minty scent of cleaning agents, dispelling the odors of blood and near death.
They tended to Adtovar, carefully removing the stained bedclothes, replacing them with clean linens, and washing the blood and grime from his body.
By the time they finished, the room stood transformed, and Adtovar appeared as if he were merely resting and hadn’t just fought off the grim reaper.
Lafalia helped me, her hands gently washing away streaks of dark purple blood from my hands and arms, scrubbing my skin until it was fresh and clean.
She stood ready to assist as I slipped into a new garment, the fabric cool and soothing against my skin.
The shift was pale green, the color reminiscent of spring leaves just unfurling, though worn thin from years of use.
It belonged to Teenalia’s collection, and since she was taller than me, the hem draped well below my knees, swaying slightly with each movement.
Emmiait returned, carefully balancing a bowl of steaming meat broth and a jug filled with clear, pristine water in her hands.
With Sureeta and Meeka gently supporting Adtovar’s head, I coaxed a few sips of the nourishing liquid down his throat.
His breathing had become more steady and less labored, and a faint hint of color bloomed back into his cheeks, although he remained worryingly pale. Despite that, my worry eased.
Then Bozzo showed up.
“Is he dead?”