The trolls’ rotting meat stench worsens as Giftigbun and Silexamani roar again and dive down. Shrieking in terror, the trolls drop their crude wooden weapons and ropes, fleeing in every direction away from where Eclair and Blythe lie. While Giftigbun and Silexamani chase the trolls off, Astralux lands, taking a couple of extra steps with the added weight of Lyssa. I jump off, gagging as my nose takes in the even-worse-smell of the yellow-green troll pus, which is everywhere.
“Oh Ariadna above, the smell!” Lyssa groans and pulls her shirt over her nose. “And you’re bonded! How have you not thrown up? It’s all I want to do right now.”
“I did the first time.” Giving a half-smile, half-grimace, I force my legs to go straight into the worst of it, where Blythe and Eclair are still lying.
Their wounds are minor, the worst a nasty gash on Eclair’s wing, though they’re smothered in the gross pus. It’s obvious that they’ve retched several times, but I notice that Blythe’s body is convulsing oddly.
“Blythe? Eclair?” I say.
“Blythe,” Eclair whimpers. “He got pus in his mouth.” She gags. Lyssa hurries to her side, looking at her injured wing, Astralux peering over Lyssa’s shoulder. I feel a rush of worry from Astralux—it must be bad.
I kneel beside Blythe, my eyes watering in concentration to not join them in throwing up. Blythe’s fair skin is pale as snow, and he’s shaking from head to foot. His eyes are glassy, and I can see the flush of a fever on his cheeks.
“Where’s the nearest stream or body of water?” I ask.
“I think there’s a tiny stream just a little north of here,” Astralux says. “Not too far.”
“Let’s get them there.” Setting my arms under his knees and neck, I carefully pick Blythe up, trying to keep my movement smooth and even. Step by step, I walk him north. He groans and I feel his body clench. “Easy, easy,” I say to Blythe. As we get out of the worst of the area, Blythe starts to breathe a little easier and he stops convulsing as badly. Behind me, I hear Astralux and Lyssa coaxing Eclair along.
At last, I hear the trickle of the stream, and spot it running between mossy boulders. Setting Blythe beside the stream, I go to Astralux and unhook my medic’s kit from the saddle, pull out one of my cleaning cloths, and dampen it. As I work, I look over at Eclair, who dips her face into the stream. “How do you feel, Eclair?”
“Better, now,” Eclair says. “It’s mostly my wing.” Her gold eyes well up with tears. “The trolls got me, and I couldn’t fly us out of there. And now Blythe….” She falls into a sob, and Astralux puts a wing around her.
“Blythe is going to be just fine,” I say.
Washing Blythe’s face with the cloth, rinsing it several times, I then lay the cool cloth on his forehead. Unhooking the buttons on his outer blue vest, I shed this from him and lay this in the stream. I strip his brown cloth shirt off and lay this in the stream too. His pants are dirtied but not enough to embarrass him, so I leave those alone. Hearing the heavy beat of wings, I glance up to see Giftigbun and Silexamani circling, seeking a place to land between the pine trees. Turning back to Blythe, I take the old cloth, wash what remaining filth I can off him, and then set him down. His large hazel eyes slowly focus on me.
“Ward Estelle?” Blythe whispers. “Where’s Eclair?”
“She’s right here,” I say. “Everything’s going to be fine.” I hold out my canteen to him. “Think you can drink some water?”
Blythe reaches up with trembling fingers. I decide to guide the canteen to his lips, and slowly tilt it until I see his throat swallowing. He drinks everything—a good sign—and sighs once it’s empty. “I don’t feel good,” he rasps.
“You may have an illness,” I say. “I was told you can get sick from troll pus.” Seeing him shiver, I take a blanket out of my pack and wrap this around his shoulders. “I’m going to check on Eclair now. Will you be alright?”
Blythe nods, still looking dazed, but I don’t sense any further urgency with him. I do think he might be sick again, based on how Mortimer described this illness, and the way he shudders every now and then. I make my way over to where Giftigbun and Silexamani are nuzzling Eclair and helping to rinse her off in the stream.
Neil rubs Eclair’s nose before hurrying my way. “Blythe?”
“I think he’s contracted whatever disease you can get from troll pus,” I say. “I see signs of sickness in him. But he’s going to be okay. Just needs rest.”
Neil heaves a sigh of relief. “I’ll let you see to Eclair’s wing—I think of all of us, you’ve got the best chance of doing something, at least until we can get her to Domagoj.” He pats me on the shoulder and then strides past to where Blythe is. “Hey there.”
“Ward Neil?” Blythe looks relieved as he puts his arms around Neil’s neck. “I’m sorry.”
Neil hugs Blythe tightly. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”
Stepping between Giftigbun and Silexamani, I stroke Eclair’s neck a couple of times to let her know I’m there as I look at her wing. I see why Astralux had been worried—there’s a spear broken at the base of her wing, and while it’s not bleeding badly, it looks painful.
“I didn’t want to take it out until you were here,” Lyssa says quietly.
I nod. Instructing Eclair to lie all the way down, I peer over the wound, using my enhanced eyesight to pick out how the spear is in there. “I don’t think it has any barbs,” I say quietly. “It should come out relatively easy.” I look up at Giftigbun and Silexamani for permission.
Silexamani blinks back tears and then lies down around us, nuzzling Eclair’s chin. She growls, her tone encouraging, and Eclair nods.
Sighing, Giftigbun puts a paw gently on Eclair’s back. “Go ahead,” he says.
I put my hand on Eclair’s wing, pinning it to her body, grab a hold of the broken end of the spear, and pull. It comes out with ease, even as Eclair roars, her parents and Lyssa hushing her quickly. I hear Blythe vomit in the background, but when I glance over Neil is rubbing his back, and I don’t sense any urgency from them. The tip of the spear looks intact, bloodied as it is, and I toss it aside and inspect Eclair’s wound a little longer before I take out a bandage.
“Domagoj may want to sew this,” I say. “But I’m not sure it needs to be sewn—that spear was rather thin. You might just have to keep the wound clean but then you don’t need stitches.”
Eclair heaves a sigh of relief. “Okay.”
I carefully place a thick gauze over the wound and then, at Giftigbun and Silexamani’s direction, wrap Eclair’s wing so that it’s folded against her body, effectively closing and protecting the wound. Sniffling, Eclair buries her face into Silexamani’s neck, her mother growling to her gently.
“Light of Ariadna!”
I jump in surprise, and so does Astralux, the chiming voice of Ariadna’s Star ringing through my mind. Sharing a look, we stare southwest.
“Estelle, Astralux?” Giftigbun asks.
“We heard the Star again,” Astralux says, her voice despondent.
“It calls to you both,” Neil says. He’s let Lyssa take over watching Blythe and now looks between us. “But what is it telling you?”
“I’m not sure,” I whisper. Longing for the Star, I sigh and go to the stream, cleaning my hands. A strange hissing fills my ears from beyond the trees, and I stare out, searching for the sound.
“Estelle?” Lyssa asks. “The Star again?”
“No. I hear something weird,” I say.
Still rubbing Blythe’s back, Lyssa tilts her head, staring north with me. “I don’t hear anything.”
Neil, who isn’t far from us, steps up beside me, frowning. “I hear it too. But I’m not sure I know what that is.”
Giftigbun’s head suddenly swivels in our direction, his dark brown eyes widening in horror.
He roars in fear mixed with anger, making us all jump. “Bloodwyrm!”
Terror hits me hard from Astralux, and I tremble on my feet. “Bloodwyrm?” I ask.
But everyone around me is racing. Giftigbun and Silexamani hurry to put Eclair on Silexamani’s back, while at the same time Neil and Lyssa sling Blythe over Giftigbun. I sweep up my medic’s supplies and tie this to Astralux’s saddle.
Astralux whimpers, her blue eyes shining with fear. “Hurry, Estelle.”
Lyssa’s scream echoes throughout the woods. I spin just in time to see the ghastliest creature lunge out from between the trees, and I scream too: the thing is massive, its elongated body a slick, reddish black color, short pincer feet all along the bottom of its body. It has nothing for eyes, but its mouth is a circular hole filled with needle-like teeth. At least a dozen spindly, almost worm-like “arms” protrude forward from its body, all around its mouth. They’re smooth like its body and reach out, squirming every which way as if each was a serpent, while working together to pull the body along. From its body to the tip of one arm, it has to be several meters—greater than even the height of a tall man such as Neil.
One such arm latches onto Silexamani, who yelps and tries to shake it off her front right leg. But it holds, as if it had been attached, and the dragon teeters as the giant parasite uses two of its arms to throw itself toward her. Eclair shrieks in horror.
Snarling, Giftigbun pounces on the bloodwyrm’s arms, breaking its hold of Silexamani. But it immediately wraps its spindly tentacles around Giftigbun’s face, and I hear Giftigbun give a muffled roar as he shakes his head, pawing at it. Neil, swinging his halberd, lands a blow into the side of the thing’s body. It has a weird viscous movement, as if Neil is more pushing it along rather than cutting into it, but the hit does seem to distract it, two of its arms latching onto the halberd. Astralux uses the spines on her tail to pry off another of the bloodwyrm’s arms, her teeth bared although I still feel worry from her. Lyssa, a broadsword in her hands, brings the blade down at one of the bloodwyrm’s outstretched tentacles on Giftigbun’s face and manages to cut it deeply before the bloodwyrm brings its arm back to itself. I see a clear liquid ooze from the wound, near invisible.
Just as I’m looking for an opening, I hear more hissing—both from this bloodwyrm and from the woods—and look up to see at least five more. They’re crawling from every which way toward us, and I cry out, pointing. “There’s more coming!”
“Silexamani, get Eclair and Blythe out of here!” Neil shouts. Somehow, I have a feeling that the words were shared from Giftigbun and Neil both.
Silexamani whimpers at Giftigbun but turns, snatching Blythe from where he’d fallen and throwing him over her back. She sprints away, breathing a blast of flint shards at the things, but they just avoid her breath and keep coming forward.
“Run!” Neil says to us. “Go, now!”
“We’re not leaving you!” Lyssa says.
Giftigbun slams his head against a tree, and at last the bloodwyrm on his face drops, giving a weird hissing shriek. Where it had been latched onto him, his scales are scratched and blood oozes in-between them. “We’re leaving too.”
Neil half-hoists, half-throws Lyssa up onto Giftigbun’s back, while I turn to Astralux, who’s already taking a running start. I swing myself up into the saddle and she starts to flap her wings.
There’s a scream from farther away—Blythe’s—and I hear Eclair roar, while Silexamani’s yelp echoes through the trees. Giftigbun’s scales around his face pale, and he charges ahead, Neil clinging to the side of his saddle.
Astralux whimpers. “Ariadna, help us.” She races after Giftigbun, fleeing from the bloodwyrms that lunge at us from behind.
Tamara Rivers 
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