Owen nodded. “Rufus Branch used magick on him, the like of which I’ve never seen before. Not even du Malphias had this sort of power. Please tell me Mugwump ate him.”
“I don’t believe so, but I cannot be sure.” The Prince slid from the saddle and went to his knees. “I’ve been riding for hours, maybe five or so.”
Owen helped him up and threw an arm around his waist. “We’re glad you got here. We were done until you sent them flying.”
“Not me, it was Mugwump.” The Prince became a bit steadier as they walked to where Rathfield lay. “Magick, you say?”
“Wickedly powerful magick.” Owen held his hand out to Becca and she reluctantly took it, hanging back away from Rathfield.
Rathfield had been stretched out and his limbs straightened. He had a few minor cuts-far fewer than any of the others, all of whom looked thoroughly gnawed-and signs of a broken leg. Of most concern, however, was the clear indication of a skull fracture. The flesh over his left eye had already begun to swell and turn purple.
Nathaniel swiped his forearm over his forehead, smearing blood. “He’s breathing, but reedy. Tain’t going to be long for this world.”
A distant voice called out. “I can help him.”
Makepeace got up and lumbered toward the center of the green. “Done forgot the Steward.”
The Prince raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“Ezekiel Fire. He’s the Steward of Happy Valley, which is the capital of Postsylvania. He founded the True Oriental Church of the Lord.” Owen tore a strip off his loincloth and stuffed it against a bite-mark on his forearm. “Did the Count and Hodge make it back to you yet?”
“No.”
Nathaniel nodded. “Sixteenth might have been a bit quick to expect, but inside two weeks they’ll reach Temperance Bay.”
Before the Prince could even begin to catalogue the questions he wanted to ask, Makepeace returned with a small, older man who was rubbing his wrists. Without a word Fire sank to his knees beside Ian Rathfield and held his hands out flat over the man’s cracked skull. A faint reddish glow surrounded them, then he looked up. “This is not good. I can help, but I cannot heal him, not fully.”
“Well, Steward, I reckon you want to be telling us what you kin do, then we’ll figger the rest.”
“His leg’s broken, but you can set that.”
The Prince pointed to the man’s head. “Depressed skull fracture.”
The Steward nodded. “It is, but it isn’t just that. There’s still magick there. It’s lost lots of power, but is still trying to drive bone into his brain. God willing, I can break that.”
Makepeace knelt beside the Steward at the Colonel’s head. “I’ll be proud to be praying with you.”
Fire nodded, then gently lay his hands on Rathfield’s skull. He touched thumb to thumb and index finger to index finger, letting the wound appear plainly in that triangle. He took a deep breath, then raised his face toward the Heavens.
“Most Holy and Almighty God, I kneel here before You a most foolish and unworthy servant. Through my sinfulness and pride, I allowed a man to learn things I do not think You meant him to know. He laid this man low. I saw it as plain as I see the results now. But this man, Ian Rathfield, he is a good and righteous man. He came to the aid of his fellow men here, knowing the danger he was in. You made him magnificent, Lord, a Lion of the Faith, facing a man possessed of dozens of demons, a man commanding legions of demons. All because I believed I knew what You wanted. So I beg of you, dear Lord, to lift the magick Your enemy used. I beg You to bring him back from the brink of death. If it is Your will, I will accept from him the burden of his injuries, that he may continue to know life in You, and the joy of communion with You. Thy will be done.”
No one said a thing and for a handful of heartbeats, nothing happened. Then the red glow returned to Fire’s hands. It intensified, hiding his flesh, yet leaving Rathfield’s forehead still visible. And there bones shifted. Though the swelling did not subside, bone rose and snapped crisply back into place. A bit of the glow outlined an odd sigil in Rathfield’s flesh, as if a tattoo somehow fading into invisibility.
Fire slumped back on his heels. Makepeace caught him and dragged him away, laying him out on the ground. “He’s breathing regular, just exhausted.”
Nathaniel moved down to Rathfield’s ankle. “Makepeace, grab his knee. Girl, can you go into the workshop and get me two pieces of wood about as long as you are tall?”
Becca stared at him, still shivering.
Owen squeezed her hand. “I’ll go with you. It will help.”
Once the girl had vanished into the workshop, Nathaniel pulled on the ankle and Kamiskwa set the broken leg. Rathfield remained unconscious throughout. His breathing became more regular and quiet.
Prince Vlad slowly shook his head. “Where do I begin?”
“Telling your story, or hearing ours?” Nathaniel smiled. “Not sure there’s enough time for either.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
As Owen returned with the splints for the leg, Nathaniel steered the Prince toward the village green. “Bad doings here, very bad. Owen can give you his journal. That will tell you most of it. Plain facts is this: two villages done been destroyed, maybe a third. Yonder fire’s all’s left of the folks of Happy Valley. It’s a blessing we’re up wind of it. Ezekiel Fire and his people found some magick which makes that healing he done look like lighting a candle. I ain’t sure Fire’s in his right mind. And the things we done found up to the mountains, well, if they are just a sliver of what they might be, I ain’t sure there’s power on this here earth what can even slow them down.”
Vlad’s mouth soured. “I’ve been doing some researching myself. What Fire knows would be enough to scare most of Norisle by itself. If…”
“Begging your pardon, Highness, but this ain’t time for strategizing.” Nathaniel pointed at Rathfield. “Ain’t no way he’s walking out of here. I reckon we make a stretcher, strap it to Mugwump, and you fly him on back home. We’ll fit you with a journal, like I said, and some other things.”
The Prince nodded. “Of course. I’ll get him back to Prince Haven and the care he needs, then I can come back for you.”
“That ain’t gonna work, neither. We’ll be walking on out of here, bringing the girl and Fire with us. This being the sixteenth, we should be back early June. That’ll give you time to be doing some cogitating on all you’ll be reading.”
Vlad rested a hand on Nathaniel’s shoulder. “You want me out of here quickly, very quickly.”
“I reckon I do.” The man’s eyes tightened. “I ain’t wholly sure what I done seen tonight, and I don’t want you here if Rufus comes back. Iffen I thought the girl could survive the trip back on Mugwump, I’d be giving her to you, too. After what she’s seen in the last week, I ain’t sure she’ll ever be right.”
“But what if Mugwump’s presence is what is keeping the things at bay? What if Rufus is hiding until Mugwump leaves?”
“Well, since Ian can’t make it through the mountains, and Mugwump ain’t gonna be no good for hauling him that way, don’t see as it makes much difference.” Nathaniel shook his head. “You want me to say it, I will. I am pure-D scared at what I seen. Make me feel better a-knowing you’re back in Temperance figuring out how to stop it, than it would to have you coming along.”
“I agree, but not about the girl. The trip you’re suggesting will not be good for her.” Vlad walked back over toward where the others had gathered, and spun the left wheel on his glove. Mugwump’s head came up, then the beast reoriented himself. The Prince rolled both wheels forward smoothly, and the dragon padded forward.
Vlad smiled. “Owen, how would your friend, Becca, like to meet someone who came a long way to save her?”
The girl shrank back behind Owen.
Vlad crouched down, and offered her his right hand. “Becca, I am Vlad. These are my friends. Mugwump is, too. Do you know where Temperance is?”