Chapter Bast Badly Hurt
“How did he get one in on you, Bast?”
“He didn’t. I did it to my fool self.”
Lucien used the arm that didn’t have a hole through the shoulder to shove himself over onto his back.
“I jumped on the prickly beast’s back.” Bast continued. “A poorly planned ambush.” He said, ruefully. Holding his hand to his side where a whistle emerged between two ribs.
“Do we need to get you help?” Lucien was concerned.
“Ah, ballocks!” Bast objected at the suggestion. “I heal faster than any of the rest of you fools.” He slapped Lucien on the shoulder.
Lucien hissed in pain and clutched the wound, glaring at his friend.
Bast shot him the characteristically unabashed grin. “You cry like an old woman, my friend.”
“Such great mocking from a man with the flowing locks of a girl.” Lucien gestured to Bast’s unfashionably long blonde hair.
Bast feigned a glower, but laughter twitched his lips.
Lucien grew serious. “Bless your foolishness, man. Without it I’m certain I’d have been Cimmerii dogfood. Unable to jest with you now.” He rubbed the sore shoulder as the skin stitched closed. “How did you know, by-the-by, that I was under siege?”
“Dreamt it.” Bast said simply. He climbed to his feet, outstretching his palm to assist his comrade. Lucien clapped his hand into Bast’s. They stumbled through the trees to the Iron Hide Gambling House. “Come, the Captain has a mission for you…After we catch up!”
Lucien glanced over their shoulders and watched the black flesh of the Cimmerii recede. Steaming and withering until there was nothing left of the corpse but a dead naked human.
She almost got me. I was a hairsbreadth from death.
Had it not been for Bast. He glanced over at the brawny blonde next to him.
Bast was right. He was healing already. Wounds on his chest now looked like only bloody smears. He grinned, eyes bright at the idea of sharing some drinks.
Does he even realize how close it was? Lucien wondered.
But Sebastian didn’t miss a beat. Laughing and jesting.
He knows. Lucien realized. He’s no one’s fool.
Lucien flexed his arm and felt the stiffness settling in. The shoulder would bear a scar. Radix’s jagged white mark. Tearing through the gray scales of his dragon, as a constant reminder Lucien would have to be increasingly wary.