He’d been glad of the water, he admitted now. But his bladder was about to burst.
How long had he been sleeping?
Rule was familiar with injury and its aftermath. Lupi played hard, trained hard, and often fought hard, and their bodies cleansed themselves of pain killers and as efficiently as they disposed of alcohol and other toxins. So pain was no stranger. He knew to ride it, not fight it. But he’d never been cut off from the sweet song of the moon or away from Earth’s rhythms.
He hadn’t been sure he would heal.
Lupi drew from both earth and moon magic. The Change was wrought by their interplay, when the moon’s call set the earth dancing in his blood and bones. Here there was no moon, and this earth wasn’t Earth. Yet it was enough like his earth, it seemed. His sense of time was distorted, but he thought no more than a day or two had passed—a little slow, but close enough to his normal rate of healing.
His hunger fit that estimate. It had been much too long since he’d eaten.
He took a moment more to assess his situation. His head didn’t hurt at all, so the concussion was healed. His ribs… well, he’d find out in a moment. Scents told him that Lily was near but not right beside him. He smelled demon and dragon, too, but more faintly—neither were present now. Good. But the smoke… what was that from?
He opened his eyes.
The cave was a single chamber about twenty feet deep, fairly regular, with a sandy floor. It was dim where he lay near the rear, but he saw well enough. The rough ceiling was less than five feet overhead—enough head room for him in this form, but Lily must have had to stoop to tend him.
The fire was near the cave’s mouth. So was Lily. She was feeding it sticks. She was clothed, he noted with surprise. She’d wrapped a length of red fabric around her torso like a sarong. More of the dragon’s coverings, he supposed. Like the one beneath him, the braided mat Gan had dragged him in here on.
Time to find out what shape he was in. Awkwardly he clambered to his feet, holding the splinted leg carefully.
Shit. That hurt. Just his leg, though. The ribs were tender, but not painful. Good. They’d be fully healed in another day or so. His leg would take longer. That had been a bad break. A week? Maybe a little more…
“What do you think you’re doing?” Lily made a bee-line for him. “You don’t need to be standing, for God’s sake. Lie down. Whatever you need, I’ll get it.”
He looked at her wryly and started for the mouth of the cave, clumsy but determined. Some things she couldn’t do for him.
“Rule. You’re not listening.” She kept pace beside him, looking worried. “You do understand me, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“Well, then, why… oh.” She nodded. “Right. Uh, I’ve been using the grassy area for a privy, but that’s too far for you. I guess… what’s wrong?”
He’d paused in the mouth of the cave. Surely it had been lighter before. He looked up at the sky, where two dragons soared, high above. It was definitely darker than it had been. He looked at her.
“The light’s fading,” she agreed. “Looks like night does fall in hell, after all. Or in parts of it. Gan says there’s no natural night and day here, but light and darkness get tugged around by the different demon lords. Xitil keeps her realm light most of the time, but the lord of the realm over there”—she waved out at the ocean— “goes for a more regular light-dark cycle. The dragons can’t regulate their territory the way the demon lords do, so it trends along with its neighbors. This close to the ocean, we’re in for bouts of darkness. That’s one reason I wanted the fire.”
He glanced over at it, nodded, and resumed his slow progress.
She kept pace beside him. “I sent Gan for some firewood. There wasn’t much on the beach to burn. I hope it gets back soon—I’m almost out of sticks.” She grinned. “At first Gan said starting a fire was easy, that demons can all do small magics like that. But he—it—took forever to get this one going. It blames the dragons, of course.”
He glanced at her.
“Apparently they have sort of a dampening effect on magic. Gan says they soak it up.”
The demon had said earlier that dragons were immune to magic. Apparently they weren’t immune in the way Lily was, though, with it bouncing off them. They simply absorbed it.
That is, if the stupid little shit was telling the truth, or even knew what was true. Where was the demon, anyway? Rule looked up and down the beach. No sign of it—and that bright orange skin did stand out.
Well, he was far enough from the cave now. He’d have to squat and pee like a girl, though. He didn’t think he could balance on two legs.
As soon as he started, his attentive nurse discovered a sudden need to attend to something in the cave.
He hobbled back. It was awkward as hell. He promised himself that the next time he saw a three-legged dog hopping around he’d have a better appreciation for the skill involved.
If he ever saw a dog again. Or anything else of Earth.
Lily was messing with the fire. She looked up, her expression almost shy. “Are you hungry? There’s some fruit. A little meat, too… well, dead animals, really. There’s two of them. There were three, but I tried to skin one and made a mess of it. I’ve been sharpening one of the bones the dragons brought when we splinted your leg,” she added, “but it’s not much of a knife.”
He could smell the game—at least a day dead, but not spoiled. It would do. He gave her a nod and started for the back of the cave.
“No, I’ll get it.” She stood. “You’ve been rambling around enough.”
He decided not to object, partly because that short walk had left him stupidly winded, partly because of the look on her face.
Happiness. He hadn’t seen that in her eyes since her sister’s wedding.
He lay down near the fire. The flames were small and gave off little heat, but a welter of emotions. Fire was a comfort for humans, bane to most beasts. He was uneasily aware of how little he enjoyed the flames. Surely the man hadn’t slipped so far away in such a short time?
And yet he’d attacked without thought. When he learned what the demon had done, that his mate was dying because of it, there had been only the killing rage, the need to feel the demon’s life bleed away beneath his teeth.
If the dragon hadn’t stopped him, he would have been responsible for Lily’s death.
He held no anger for the dragon over his injury. He’d earned his broken leg. It scraped against his raw places now for Lily to look so happy at the chance to do him a service, when he deserved it so little.
She needed the demon now. Needed it far more than she did him. And however ugly that thought was, he’d better get used to it. He had to get along with Gan somehow, or he’d make things harder for her.
But what, he wondered with a blind sort of agony, had happened to the part of her left behind? What became of such a strange remnant? Lady, he thought, and stopped, unsure what to ask. Lady, she is yours. Care for her. All of her.
Lilly brought back two creatures that looked like a cross between a rat and a naked jackrabbit. Nothing he’d seen here had fur. She glanced from the limp bodies to the fire. “I could cook them. Or try to.”
He shook his head. Even in this form he enjoyed his meat cooked when it wasn’t a fresh kill, but he was too hungry to wait.
Before he could take the game from her hand, though, he heard something approaching. He bristled to warn Lily. A few seconds later, he heard Gan muttering under its breath. A surge of loathing flattened his ears.
“Rule? What is it?”
The demon came into view. “This better be enough wood,” it grumbled. It was carrying several branches under one arm. “I had to climb to the top to get it.”