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The Magehound :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 211 из 216Water and silk disappeared, leaving a bed dry and empty except for a few fishthat gasped and floundered in the thin air. Kiva sank to her knees, wavered, and then fell heavily onto her face.
Tzigone slid down the tree and raced over to Matteo's side. He struggled to a sitting position and she dropped to her knees beside him. For a long moment, she regarded the deep gashes that ran from wrist to elbow.
"Well, that's pretty disgusting," she announced.
Matteo chuckled weakly. "Get Andris. He knows how to clean and stitch wounds."
She rose and looked around for the tall jordain. Andris was bent over one of the wounded men, his touch deft and sure as he bandaged a wound. He, too, had suffered from the attack. His form still retained its distinctive colors, but it was translucent. Looking at him was like looking at a rainbow in human form.
Tzigone hurried over and grasped his elbow, relieved to find that he still felt solid. "Matteo needs you."
Andris quickly finished his work and came to his friend's side. His expression was somber as he examined the wound. He took out needle and fine gut thread and began to stitch. Tzigone paced as he worked.
"Well?" she demanded.
"Deep, but clean. There is little tearing across the muscle. Fortunately the talons on that creature were sharp as knives."
"How lucky can a man get?" she muttered. "Will he be all right? I know how quickly a wound can turn bad in a swamp."
"He'll be fine," Andris assured her in a soothing voice.
Tzigone stopped and prodded the translucent jordain with her foot. "Don't lie to me," she warned him. "I can see right through you."
"Tzigone," Matteo said wearily. "Go check on Kiva." That struck her as an excellent idea. She went over to the elf, seized one of her limp coppery hands, and jerked her over onto her back. Stooping, Tzigone placed her fingers against Kiva's throat.
"She still lives," she said in a flat voice, and then she pulled a knife from her boot and lifted it high.
Andris darted forward and seized the girl's wrist in a translucent hand. "No," he said softly. "I will not argue that she deserves to live, but consider the good of the land."
"He's right," Matteo agreed. He rose painfully and made his way carefully through the tangle of fallen men. "Kiva didn't close the gate. She merely moved it. We must find out where. Let her live, under the guard of the church of Azuth, until she recovers enough to submit to Inquisition. If it is vengeance you seek, her own kind will deal with her less kindly than you would."
Tzigone gave him a baleful look. "Is that true?"
"I swear it.
Tzigone slid down the tree and raced over to Matteo's side. He struggled to a sitting position and she dropped to her knees beside him. For a long moment, she regarded the deep gashes that ran from wrist to elbow.
"Well, that's pretty disgusting," she announced.
Matteo chuckled weakly. "Get Andris. He knows how to clean and stitch wounds."
She rose and looked around for the tall jordain. Andris was bent over one of the wounded men, his touch deft and sure as he bandaged a wound. He, too, had suffered from the attack. His form still retained its distinctive colors, but it was translucent. Looking at him was like looking at a rainbow in human form.
Tzigone hurried over and grasped his elbow, relieved to find that he still felt solid. "Matteo needs you."
Andris quickly finished his work and came to his friend's side. His expression was somber as he examined the wound. He took out needle and fine gut thread and began to stitch. Tzigone paced as he worked.
"Well?" she demanded.
"Deep, but clean. There is little tearing across the muscle. Fortunately the talons on that creature were sharp as knives."
"How lucky can a man get?" she muttered. "Will he be all right? I know how quickly a wound can turn bad in a swamp."
"He'll be fine," Andris assured her in a soothing voice.
Tzigone stopped and prodded the translucent jordain with her foot. "Don't lie to me," she warned him. "I can see right through you."
"Tzigone," Matteo said wearily. "Go check on Kiva." That struck her as an excellent idea. She went over to the elf, seized one of her limp coppery hands, and jerked her over onto her back. Stooping, Tzigone placed her fingers against Kiva's throat.
"She still lives," she said in a flat voice, and then she pulled a knife from her boot and lifted it high.
Andris darted forward and seized the girl's wrist in a translucent hand. "No," he said softly. "I will not argue that she deserves to live, but consider the good of the land."
"He's right," Matteo agreed. He rose painfully and made his way carefully through the tangle of fallen men. "Kiva didn't close the gate. She merely moved it. We must find out where. Let her live, under the guard of the church of Azuth, until she recovers enough to submit to Inquisition. If it is vengeance you seek, her own kind will deal with her less kindly than you would."
Tzigone gave him a baleful look. "Is that true?"
"I swear it.