Page 50 of The Last Dragon (The Great Burn Chronicles #1)

S unlight blazes through an open window, making my eyes water. My vision clears, revealing the white walls of the Medics’ Wing. I take a small breath. I’m still alive. What happened, and how did I get here?

I muster the strength to pry my head from the pillow for a better view, looking for a familiar face.

The room stretches out in a long hall, Medics treating countless soldiers.

I spot Alex only a few beds away from me, his face not nearly as beaten up as the rest of them, but his eyes are empty.

I blink a few times, assessing his injuries.

There are bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Did he manage to save her?

My heart wakes up in my chest, trying to escape me as I look for the rest of my unit. Sam. Ilian. Eryca. Raumen. Nida. They’re not here. I feel nauseous.

“As always, your wounds heal quickly,” says a voice, followed by the sound of metal clattering beside me. Sayna. She finishes the last touches of her herb mix before handing it to me. “How are you feeling?”

I drink the herbal paste that tastes like dirt. “Fine,” I lie. She looks like she’s aged since the last time I saw her. A wrinkle between her brows makes my heart sink as I ask, “Where’s my unit?”

She sighs, taking an excruciatingly long time to answer. “Hayden and Caspian didn’t make it.” Her eyes drop to the floor.

“And others?” I blurt out, without considering her feelings.

“They’re fine. Minor bruises,” she says, nodding toward Alex. “Broken ribs will take a while to heal, but he’ll manage. He’s strong.”

Even though her words mean a great deal to me, I still can’t feel comfort or relief. I continue to scan the room, trying to keep my composure and not let my feelings leak through me. My eyes meet Sayna’s again, and a soft smile washes over her face.

“She’s fine,” she says. “Nida’s fine.”

Relief hits me in the chest. I notice sadness tugging on her lips, lingering in her eyes. Nothing she had said to me prior to Nida mattered, but now, realization sinks in.

“I’m sorry about your son,” I say . She’s quiet, as if deciding whether it was my fault or not. At least, that’s the feeling I get.

“Caspian knew what he was getting himself into,” she says with a sigh, forcing me to believe that it’s some form of acceptance. “You did everything you could.”

Not enough.

Sayna stands up and takes the tray, leaving me with my thoughts. I could’ve done better. Maybe I overlooked or missed something. My mind feels like it’s splitting into two, and I can’t tell what is reality or not. Everywhere I go, death follows.

Suddenly, the room fills with laughter, familiar voices spread, and before I know it, I’m surrounded by five faces, carrying bruises or cuts on their skin.

“He’s finally awake!” Raumen says, slapping my back as I attempt to sit up, sending a bolt of lightning pain through it.

I grunt and exhale with a laugh as I try to hide that my body isn’t really up for it.

Nida and Eryca sit by the side of the bed, and my eyes meet Nida’s.

I spot a small cut on her eyebrow and a bruised lip.

Her eyes beg a million questions, but her lips are like a locked door.

The bruise is in a healing stage, and the cut is stitched. Wait .

“How long was I out?” I ask.

Everyone’s bodies tense, and they shuffle uncomfortably.

“Four days,” says Ilian with a gulp. My eyes grow wide. I quickly fumble, attempting to get out of bed. Everyone gasps.

“Divines got a mission for you?!” Ilian exclaims, pushing me back to my bed. I try to wiggle out of his grip, but even now, my body is too weak to even stand.

“You need to stay there!” Raumen mumbles.

“Has anyone seen what happened?” I say, confused. My head burns every time I think of the expedition. I sit up, but the moment I do, my vision blurs and the room begins to spin. Nida presses her warm hands on my chest, steadying me and pushing me back down.

“Wain has it all covered, alright?” she says, blowing her hair out of her face. “You need to rest.”

I look at her and grunt in disagreement, but her pressure is convincing.

Pain still soars through my body. I sit back down, and everyone sighs in relief.

Silence stretches as I lay in bed, tugging on the bandages on my chest. I inhale the smell of herbs and dirt circulating the room.

It’s calming. Reminds me of home. Of the botany chamber, a few yards away from my house. What used to be my house, that is.

“How many returned?” I finally ask.

“Twenty-seven.” Eryca’s voice leaves her breathless, and I shut my eyes.

Not again.

Twenty-seven out of two hundred soldiers.

“The second army?” I lift my head up.

“All made it back,” whispers Sam. “The two Scouts made it to the second army in time, and reinforcements responded. But the Redsnout managed to get away.”

“I haven’t seen anything like it before,” Eryca says, her eyes hollow, as if she’s reliving it all again.

“Me neither,” Raumen sighs.

Ilian shifts uncomfortably. “I have.” His words slice through the air, and everyone holds their breath. Even me. “Once. I’ve only seen one thing behave like that—a cow right after giving birth to a calf. Those things are vicious.”

Was it male or female? I glance at Nida, who’s frowning at Ilian’s remark.

If he’s comparing the Redsnout to a mother cow…

could it be female? Could it be protecting something?

No one could’ve gotten a clear look—especially not when the dragon was using the earth itself to drive us out.

That’s not Redsnout behavior. Only one kind of dragon fights like that.

A Stonetail. Images briefly flash before my eyes of the dragon that nearly slaughtered all of us.

The smell of iron and smoke seeps back in, as if I’m there again. What the hell is that Redsnout?

Sayna returns with another tray in hand. Seems like it was a few minutes, but an hour has already passed. She signals to the rest of the unit to leave. Everyone, aside from Nida, goes. She sits close by my bed, her hand wrapping around my arm, and I feel a tremble in her fingers.

“You gave me quite a scare,” she says.

I raise my eyebrow in question.

“There was a moment,” she starts, hesitation in her voice. “Zel, you didn’t breathe .”

Those words cut like a knife. I don’t remember anything after administering the serum. And every time I try, my head begins to hurt.

“I tried to wake you, but—” she stops, squeezing my arm. A jolt of warmth surges in my chest. I never thought she’d be this worried about me. Or anyone. I didn’t think anyone would care so much that their composure would falter.

“I’m fine,” I say, reaching for her hand to prove it.

She meets my eyes, worry still there. “Are you?”

No. I know I’m not fine. I know what this means for me.

I know that my time here is running short.

But I can’t let her know that. As a Hunter, I’m responsible for my Tracker, making sure that they can be focused at all times.

As a friend, this distraction for her is even more deadly.

She probably already knows. No. Don’t show that. Don’t confirm her fears.

“Yes,” I lie through my teeth. Is it fear that I feel? Fear of what? Or is it something else? Disappointment? Longing ? “I’m fine.”

She’s silent—her hand still wrapped around mine, her eyes scanning my body, assessing the wounds.

Then her gaze traces all the way up to my chin, then my lips, and lingers there for a moment.

I furrow my brow, my chest starting to ache as if I’m about to be sick.

I press my lips hard, as if I’m trying to hide them.

“You’re bleeding,” she says, pointing at her own lips, and my gaze follows the motion.

“Oh—” I blurt, reaching up to wipe the blood off with my wrist, the subtle taste of iron making its way to my mouth.

“Are you okay?” I ask, searching her face. She gives me a quick nod.

“Good.” I say. “I’m glad you’re safe. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you.” Those words leave me quicker than I can catch them. But they’re true. She’s my Tracker. I’m responsible for her.

She smiles, cheeks reddening. “I don’t even know how I survived,” she murmurs. She takes a deep breath, her eyes straying to Alex. “He helped me,” she says. “He helped you.”

I press my lips together. “Must’ve been a painful decision for him to make.”

A chuckle escapes her, a live one. A real one. “You would think.” She looks down at her legs, shaking like she has to move, before looking up at me again. She sighs and grabs the paper with my condition scribbled all over. She glances at it before looking at my arms, ribs, and eyes.

“You need your bandages changed,” she whispers. “They’re a day late.”

“Sayna will take care of that.”

“Sayna and Sam are swamped.” She puts down the paper. “And without Hayden, it’s harder.”

She stands, walks to the nearest cabinet, and grabs a roll of fresh bandages.

“Wait, hold up,” I say, lifting myself up straight. “Are you allowed to do that?”

When she turns to me, a smile is already on her face. “One of the Divisions I got recommended” —she starts unraveling the bandages— “was Medic.”

I’m surprised, but at the same time, I feel like I’ve known that all along. Her mother was the town’s medic and botanist, using her herbs and plants to cure small cuts or illnesses. Nida was always by Sage’s side.

“Sayna allowed me to help for a while when soldiers started to pour in. She needed all the help she could get.”

She removes my bandages, her touch careful.

The linen peels away, tugging at dried blood and stiff skin.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, refusing to flinch.

The cool air stings. I glance down—bruises bloom across my ribs like ink spilled in water.

She doesn’t look away. Her fingers move with practiced calm.

I wonder how many times she had to do this in Pirlem.