Page 21

ZARVASH

Waking up hurt.

For a second, I floated on the edge, caught between memory and nausea, and then everything dropped. Awareness slammed in—battered bones, heat radiating out of my useless wing, fists clamping down on the sides of my skull.

I didn't smell blood, small mercies. It was something herbal and sharp. Like dirt after rain and old roots. The smell of life and healing.

I wasn't in the arena anymore.

Vague memories flashed through the back of my mind. Vega hauling me out as I stumbled across the sand, a large Drakarn I didn't know at her side.

Something dark and possessive lit up inside, and I had to bite back a growl. I fought the instinct. Jealousy was useless, especially now.

I didn't recognize the room. I flexed my claws and waited for some sign of trouble.

Nothing.

I was on a pallet of some kind, only a little softer than my normal sleeping platform.

It was stuffed with battle moss, soaked and pressed until it could sap out the fever from a dying Drakarn.

That stuff wasn’t cheap. My wing throbbed, deep and old instead of the burning knife agony I had been getting used to. I had definitely been seen by a healer.

How?

The end of the match with Dravka was a blur.

Cuts and scrapes. Burning pain.

Poison?

For a second, I braced myself to sit. My head spun, but I pushed through it.

The room swam in and out, shelves stacked with jars and little vials shoved up against the walls, ropes and bits of bones decorating the place.

There were dried herbs rustling above a slit window, just enough to let in a bit of outside light.

And tucked in her own little nest of blankets in the corner was Vega, limp, half curled like she had collapsed in the midst of defending me. One arm was flung out over her eyes. Her body was tight, never quite relaxed. Every muscle was waiting for the next threat to make her spring awake.

Even unconscious, I would bet on her against any opponent.

Quick and stupid relief washed over me. She was safe. The kind of concern I felt for her made me weak, but I couldn’t avoid it. It was ridiculous. I shoved the feeling into a box and almost missed the door creaking open at the other side of the room.

A Drakarn female, stocky with drooping wings, swanned in. She had dark scales, old scars, and a bearing that made her seem twice as tall as she was.

Even in Ignarath, a healer’s attitude was the same.

She dropped a tray with enough force to rattle my teeth, broth, a battered pouch, and she had a glare worthy of an executioner. “The dead man wakes,” she drawled, not bothering to check if I was about to attack her.

That seemed a little rude. I was a warrior, after all, and quite a good one.

I tried to straighten, failed. “I remember the pit, the poison.” Everything in my mind scrambled. “After that?”

She poked my wing, and I hissed in pain. She pulled the bandages back and checked the wound. I saw goo the color of sludge that was leaking under my scales. It didn't hurt much. I was mostly numb.

“You'd have been food for the rats if she hadn't dragged you here.” A jerk of her chin at Vega. “And this wing …”

I flinched. “It works.” I flexed the limb anyway, half daring it to give out on me.

She snorted. “Until it doesn't. If your pet had waited any longer to bring you here, you might have lost use of it for good.”

“Don't call her that,” I snapped.

I was in too much pain to keep up the ruse.

Vega was so much more to me than a pet, and I knew what the Ignarath thought of humans. I couldn't keep the mask.

The healer raised a brow. “Yes, that she is, strange to see from a warrior in the tournament.”

“I have a life outside of the pit.”

“You certainly don't sound like someone from around here.” She paused and waited for me to take the bait. When I didn't, she shrugged. “The herbs I've given you will fight the infection and mend the flesh, but you need to let it rest.”

I didn't like the sound of that. “How long?”

“A week at least.” From her expression, it was clear she wanted to tell me to wait longer but knew I would ignore anything worse. “If you push it, I won't be able to fix it again.”

No sympathy, just flat truth.

I gritted my teeth. “I'll be as careful as I can.” But there were more matches to come, more fights, and Vega and I would have to get out of Ignarath somehow. My wings needed to work.

She just snorted. Clearly, she'd dealt with warriors before. So why was she in some dim little quarters instead of plying her trade for the fighters flush with coin who needed tending?

She edged closer, dropping her voice. “That one threatened to gut my assistant if we so much as took a wrong step. She nearly bit me, a fierce one, huh?”

It twisted something in my chest, irritation, pride, something very messy. Something I couldn't let myself name. “Do you have a name?”

“Kazidee.”

I would remember it. “You have my thanks for your healing, but I have no coin to pay you.” I'd earned a little from the first match, but it was difficult to bet on myself when I didn't know the bet makers in town.

And I didn't know the rest of the fighters well enough to risk making any official bets on them.

Vega and I could feed ourselves, and we had the room, but that was about it.

Kazidee leveled a hard look at me. “It's been taken care of. Don't worry about it. Now eat and stay still while I tend to you. Don't mess up my work.”

She glared at me, as though waiting for me to argue. I didn't; I was too tired. Even just sitting up had taken it out of me. I had a fight tomorrow.

How was I going to be ready?

It didn't matter. I had to be.

Kazidee huffed and started sorting her herbs, dropping some into the broth on the tray before handing it to me.

“What are you giving him?” Vega asked, sitting up from her pile of blankets.

“The guard beast awakens,” Kazidee muttered. “Healing herbs, broth. If you want him in fine shape, let me do my work.”

Kazidee shoved the bowl at me. I picked up the broth and drank it down before Vega could make any sort of objection. After the first sip, I nearly coughed it back up. “It's spicy,” I heaved, tongue recoiling.

“You will survive, warrior,” said Kazidee.

“You seem like a pretty good healer,” said Vega. “Why did I have to bring him to the outskirts of town to find you? I would think you could get work near the arena.”

Kazidee stood and gathered everything but the bowl of broth. “Learn to be thankful, outlander. My affairs are none of your business. Finish the broth and wait until his strength returns. It should be another couple of hours. Then be gone from this place.”

She left us alone in the room.

“You found a healer,” I said.

“I did.” Vega leveled a stare that dared me to speak against it.

“It was a risk coming to her.” We were in the city for a reason, and I was in the tournament under false pretenses. Our luck with Skorai would run out soon. And Kazidee could be running back to the arena right now to report on my injuries. It would be worth a fair bit of coin to my next opponent.

But I was already feeling stronger. My cuts looked days old instead of hours, and my wing hurt less than it had since the battle outside of Scalvaris.

“It was a risk we had to take,” she said. “Or did you want me to let you die of Dravka's poison?”

I made enough room for her on the pallet and patted the sheets beside me. “Come up here. Sit.”

“You will let your pet into your bed?” She raised her brows and pursed her lips.

“Don't,” I said.

I thought Vega might argue. It was what she was made to do.

Instead, she stalked forward those few steps and slid into the bed, curling herself in right next to me. Muscles I hadn't realized I was clenching loosened.

This was it. Now she was where she belonged.

I finished the spicy healing broth and set the bowl aside. “You should try to sleep,” I told my mate.

“I slept,” she insisted.

Whatever she'd been doing, I doubted it was restful, but I didn't argue.

We sat there like that for a long time. And eventually I could hear the sounds of the city outside.

It must have been daytime. My match had been in the morning, and I wasn't fighting until evening tomorrow.

Hopefully, it would be enough time to recover.

I must have dozed in the warmth of her presence. I drifted, half-aware, as the hush in the room stretched on. Outside, the normal thrum of Ignarath carried through the stone, merchants haggling, the distant bark of orders, the occasional clatter of armored boots along the streets.

At first, it was only background noise; the city’s pulse steady and reliable.

But slowly, the pitch shifted. Voices grew sharper, the footsteps heavier, something urgent bleeding through the cracks.

Vega stiffened beside me, both of us attuned to trouble even through exhaustion.

A strange hush spread as if the air itself held its breath, and I felt that old, primal surge: the forewarning of danger.

I wasn't surprised when Kazidee burst back into the room.

“You two need to get out of here now. Guards from the upper city are causing trouble. You don't want to be found with me.” She thrust a bag full of herbs at Vega and shoved us towards the door. “Morning and night in his tea, if you want him to survive.”