Chapter 37: A foe to the rescue
"Help me."
Ayla flew into the healing chambers.
"Healer!" Her eyes searched frantically.
The room was empty.
"HEALER!"
A door at the back of the chamber creaked open and the man, Alistair stepped right out with a drying cloth in his hand.
"Ayla. What happened?"
"What are you doing here?"
"I work here. I told you the first time we met, remember? Is everything okay?"
"Where is the healer?" She demanded. "Where is Master Aldric?"
Alistair set the cloth down slowly. "He left this morning to visit his family and he will not be back until tomorrow."
"No." She shook her head, her voice cracking.
"Ayla... what is wrong?"
"Prince Cassian has been shot in the back with an arrow and I need the healer..."
But Alistair was already moving, grabbing a leather satchel from the shelf, stuffing it with bandages and jars. "Take me to him. Now."
Ayla did not question him. She simply turned and ran back the way she had come with Alistair’s footsteps pounding behind her.
They reached the clearing in minutes.
Cassian lay exactly where she had left him, facedown on the ground, the arrow still protruding from his back. The blood had spread further now, soaking through the entire shoulder of his shirt.
Alistair dropped to his knees beside Cassian, pressing two fingers to his neck.
"His pulse is weak"
"Can you help him?"
He did not answer immediately. His fingers traced the wound, the placement of the arrow, the angle of the shaft.
"We need to get him to the healing chambers," Ayla said, her voice rising.
"No. If we move him with the arrow still in, we could do more damage than the shot itself." Alistair explained. "I need to remove it first. Stabilize the wound. Then we can move him."
"Tell me what to do," Ayla said.
"Stay with him." Alistair was already opening his satchel. "Keep him still. If he wakes, do not let him move. I will be back."
"Back? Where are you going?"
"I need supplies I did not bring." He was on his feet now. "I will be as fast as I can."
"Alistair ..."
But he was already gone.
Ayla dropped to her knees beside Cassian.
The arrow was embedded deep but there was something else she noted. The blood that leaked around the wound was not the bright crimson that is expected from a clean injury.
It was darker... almost black.
Alistair returned some moments later and he dropped beside Cassian without a word and began working.
He sliced away the fabric around the wound, exposing the torn flesh where the arrow had entered.
"There may be poison on the arrowhead," he said, confirming Ayla’s worst fear. "I will need to cut it out. Ayla ..." He looked at her. "Do not look away. If he seizes, I need you to hold him down."
She nodded, her throat too tight for words.
Alistair gripped the arrow shaft with one hand and a small blade with the other.
"On three."
Ayla positioned herself beside Cassian’s shoulders, pressing her weight down on his upper body.
"One." Alistair cut into the flesh around the arrowhead and blood welled up instantly.
Cassian’s body jerked, a groan cutting through him.
"Hold him." Alistair warned.
Ayla pressed harder, her hands shaking.
The blade cut deeper eliciting a scream from Cassian. His body convulsed and his fingers clawed the ground.
"Three." Alistair said then pulled.
The arrow came out with a wet, sucking sound, bringing with it a gush of dark blood that spattered across the ground. Cassian’s scream cut off abruptly as his body went limp.
"He passed out," Alistair said. "Good. It will be easier this way."
He pressed a wad of clean cloth against the wound, stemming the bleeding, then reached for the mortar. Ayla watched him grind something into a paste and packed it directly into the wound.
Alistair worked quickly, binding the wound with strips of linen, wrapping them tight around Cassian’s shoulder and chest. When he was done, he sat back on his heels and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
"That should hold him for now."
"Can we move him now?" Ayla asked, her knees weak.
"Yes." Alistair rose, then bent and lifted Cassian off the ground like he weighed nothing.
Ayla stared in shock.
Alistair was not a small man, but Cassian was broad, heavy with muscle. To see him lifted so effortlessly, cradled against Alistair’s chest like a child.
"Stay close," Alistair said. "We will take him to his room. If we bring him through the main halls, too many eyes will see. We need to move quietly."
Ayla nodded, too stunned to speak.
They took the hidden paths. Alistair moved swiftly, his arms steady despite the weight he carried.
No one saw them or if they did, they did not stop them.
They reached Cassian’s room and Alistair laid him on the bed with surprising care, easing his head onto the pillow.
"Why is he still not waking?" Ayla asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Alistair was already checking Cassian’s pulse, his pupils, the color of his lips. "The arrow may have been poisoned. The dark blood suggests it. He will need an antidote."
Ayla’s blood ran cold.
Poisoned.
It had to do with the man she had seen with her father. She knew he was here in the pack and now Cassian had been shot with a poisoned arrow.
"I need to tell the Alpha. He needs to know that Cassian was attacked."
Alistair nodded slowly. "You are right. You should go. I will stay with him and watch for any changes."
Ayla hesitated looking at Cassian one last time before she turned and left the room for the Alpha king’s quarters.
Alistair watched the door swing shut, his hand closing around the vial in his pocket.
The poison was slow acting so it would give him ample time to do what he had to do. He looked down at Cassian’s unconscious form, a smile forming on his face.
One step closer...