Page 36 of The Lost Art of Revealing Hidden Truths (The Lost Arts #3)

Chapter Sixteen

N o!” Perian screamed.

The demon turned towards him, which wasn’t at all what Perian had been going for, except it sort of was, because it didn’t tear into Molun, who was on the ground and not moving.

Perian had no weapons, which now seemed like a huge oversight. What had he been thinking? Brannal had given him a knife, but he’d chosen never to have it with him. Because he was stupid.

The demon paced a couple steps closer, fur dark and bristling.

Perian didn’t want to think about how huge those paws were as they pressed into the ground, claws gouging furrows in the earth.

Except if he thought about that, maybe he could stop thinking about how the demon was growling, mouth pulled back in a snarl full of sharp teeth, menacing yellow eyes locked on him.

Perian’s heart was thundering in his ears, his breath coming in pants, and he didn’t have a plan at all.

With a rush of howling wind, Nisal was suddenly there. They had their sword out—Perian had never seen them with their sword out—and they were diving in, wind screaming around them. There was more yelling and shrieks as they drove the demon back.

Without realizing he’d moved, Perian found that he was on his knees in front of Molun, and the world just… stopped.

Molun wasn’t moving, and there was so much blood. It was everywhere; Perian had never seen so much blood, and he’d never seen a wound like the one on Molun’s leg, which was gushing bright red blood and looking like raw meat. The leg wasn’t straight, and it was clear it had been broken.

Nisal was there a moment later, kneeling beside Perian, and when they looked at Molun’s leg, their face blanched.

They ripped off their leather vest and then yanked off their padded tunic and bundled it against the wound.

It began to soak through almost instantly.

Perian pulled off his coat, got it tangled with his bag, flailed, and finally managed to get them both off.

His bag!

“I think it hit an artery,” Nisal whispered, their face dreadfully pale. “Hold on, let me get my shirt.”

They stripped off their shirt and added it to the pile, taking over holding pressure on the wound.

“No,” Perian said, shaking his head vehemently. “No, no, no.”

Hands trembling, covered in blood, he ripped open his bag and rooted desperately through it. He yanked out the tonic, ripped out the stopper, and managed to tilt Molun’s head back. His face was too pale and too still, not at all like Molun should be.

“This is the best tonic ever; the doctor said so. This tonic makes everyone well,” Perian said, his voice shaking, but he tried to firm it up.

“Molun, you’re going to be absolutely fine.

” The bottle shook in Perian’s hand, and a little bit of the tonic spilled.

He tried harder to steady his hands and his voice.

“This tonic is the best, and you’re going to be fine.

You’re definitely, definitely going to be fine. ”

He got a second tonic into the man, because the doctor hadn’t specifically said he couldn’t do that, and Perian was sure Molun needed all the help he could get. Even if this was the best tonic ever, two was better than one, right?

He put his hands back on the makeshift bandage, everything feeling too wet already. Nisal felt for Molun’s pulse. Perian should have thought of that, but he was kind of panicking.

“It’s weak but there,” they said, but they looked really worried.

Molun wasn’t meant to be so still.

“Let me. My shirt.”

Nisal took over the pressure so that Perian could pull off his vest and shirt, and they added them to the pile, both of them pressing down. He tried not to think about what would happen if that soaked through, too.

“Of course there’s a lot of blood,” he said, swallowing thickly, continuing to maintain pressure.

He thought about how bandages formed barriers, stopping bleeding and protecting wounds.

“There’s a lot of blood because this is a big wound, and you’re a big man.

So you have lots of blood in you. But we’re covering the wound up now, so you’re going to stop bleeding, and you’re going to be fine as soon as we get you back to the doctor. ”

Somehow.

Had there only been one demon? Perian’s memory of what had happened was hazy in the extreme, but part of him thought there had maybe been more than one, and the others had kept going? Or had the one he’d definitely seen just been so big that it felt like more than one?

Had Nisal killed this one, or just driven it off? Where were the others?

There was the sudden sound of movement, something thundering their way, bushes and leaves crackling, and Nisal jerked upright, sword in their hand, ready, and then—

Prince Horsey burst through the bushes in a complete lather. When he saw them, he stopped, sides heaving, snorting and neighing. He pawed the ground. Nisal and Perian sagged with relief.

“Fire and water,” Nisal gasped. “Thank everything. Perian, you need to get Molun back to the castle.”

“But what about the others? What about you?” Perian demanded.

“We’ll be fine,” Nisal told him firmly, like they actually believed it. “I’ll find the others. Molun needs a doctor. As soon as possible. Now.”

It was true. Perian wasn’t an expert in wounds, but it wasn’t like they could smear salve over this wound, could they? But here was Prince Horsey, and that meant they could get back to the castle.

Could he hear distant yelling? Nisal was glancing in that direction, so he was pretty sure the answer was yes. But Perian couldn’t think about that. All that mattered was getting Molun to help .

Prince Horsey was the fastest horse in the world. They could do this.

But he wasn’t going to be able to hold onto the wound and ride a horse. They needed something to tie—

Perian cursed himself for a fool, and they used the now bloody ribbon that he’d been clutching in his hands all this time to bind the cloth in place. Perian would hold on as best he could, of course he would, but he already knew this was going to be the most awkward ride ever.

It was no easy task getting Molun and Perian on the horse, but Prince Horsey showed that strange sensitivity, like he knew when things were really serious; despite all the blood, he stood there patiently.

With the help of air—even then, Perian honestly wasn’t sure how they did it, given that Nisal was half their size and Perian had to be on the horse to receive Molun—they somehow got Molun into Perian’s arms on the horse.

Although Molun groaned a deeply pained sound, he didn’t regain consciousness.

Perian realized he was muttering, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” under his breath.

He wrapped his hands around the reins and held onto Molun awkwardly. He didn’t think this could possibly be good for Molun’s leg, but… the alternative was worse. That’s why they’d used the ribbon—the awesome, awesome ribbon that was definitely a winner.

Nisal’s eyes were wide and scared, but they said, “Go,” and Perian, who didn’t want to leave them, didn’t know how many demons there were or what they were going to face or where anyone else was or if anyone else was safe, dug his heels into Prince Horsey’s flanks and said, “Run!”

And Prince Horsey did. The forest was a blur. Prince Horsey was running as fast as he could between the trees, and Perian didn’t complain when branches whipped across his face, leaving stinging scratches in their wake. He had to keep blinking back tears and clearing his throat.

“You’re going to be fine,” he told Molun, who was a warm, still weight against him, rocking with the movement of the horse.

“I mean, I’m not going to lie, it’s kind of an ugly wound, but we’ve wrapped it up.

” He sniffed. “If only you weren’t unconscious, you could have seen us stripping off all our clothing just for you. Aren’t you upset you missed that?

“You’ve also had two tonics. They might even be tonics that Nisal and I helped to make.

We didn’t mix them the same way as the salve, but we talked to them the whole time.

We told them they were going to be the best tonics.

The doctor said that made a difference. Well, these ones were made with the most encouragement and caring, and that means they’re the best possible thing that you could possibly take right now to make you feel better. ”

He gulped in a couple breaths and then just kept talking, like maybe Molun could hear him, and if Molun could hear him, then he was going to be all right.

“Nisal took care of the demon, and you know there’s a whole group of very capable Mage Warriors out there. As soon as Brannal realizes what’s happening, he’ll probably sweep in with all his flames and big shields and save the day.”

Perian wished they’d never split up, but it was too late for that.

“So we’re missing a bit of the drama—sorry about that—but we’ve got something else to do.

We’re not very patient, right, and we’re not about to just wait around for Brannal to save the day.

We’re doing our own thing. But we’ve got this great bandage—the clothes right off our backs!

—the winning ribbon, and the tonics, so we have plenty of time to get you back to the doctor. ”

It was all going to be fine.

Breath hitching, Perian added, “Prince Horsey is the best and fastest horse, as you know, and he didn’t even take it personally when you talked about him being moody earlier. And he’s letting you ride him! He showed up right when we needed him. And he’s still faster than the wind.”

Maybe he’d just been playing every time they’d run before, and this was serious. He’d already got them out of the forest, and he was now galloping flat out, thundering across the turf.

Perian sniffed. His hands were going numb from clutching the reins and Molun as tight as he could. He clutched tighter.