"He's not," Tobias said softly. "They've all been talking about the Phoenix. They said she's working with the Wyvern. She's deadly, she knows our names, and she can't be stopped."
"A Dragon?" I asked.
He shrugged. "I wasn't there. I get vegetables. I just know that almost the whole team died and the ones who lived keep saying it was caused by the Phoenix."
"Because she knows!" Jamison wailed as he tried to thrash again.
I began cutting away the leather, not surprised at all to see the wound around the arrow was bright red. The skin was inflamed. This man likely had a fever, which was why he was nearly incoherent. And yet, the arrow was yellow.
Bright yellow.
Obviously yellow.
It wasn't cream or tan or pastel. This was a color that could be described as nothing else.
And then Jamison said something that made my blood run cold. "We sent her up there to die. The Dragons were supposed to destroy her. They didn't. They made her a Phoenix."
Tobias's head snapped up to look at me. It took everything in my power to keep my hands moving, pulling the leather away from the wound so I could get to it. I still heard those words.
It had to be Ayla. There was no other way this made sense! She'd said she'd send back a sign, and was this not the most obvious thing she could've used? We all knew about the Wyvern's blue-fletched arrows, and I could see plenty of those sticking out of men all across the room. Black ones too.
But these two were yellow. They were Ayla's color. But what if that was just by chance? And why was Jamison calling her the Phoenix?
"He's got one in his leg too," Tobias said. "Cut that away before you start pulling or I'll have to fight to hold him down."
I glanced at him quickly. I'd been planning on it, but for a stupid man, that was a rather astute thing to say. But the arrow was on the other side. I had to make my way around the bed to reach it, which put my back to the rest of the room.
Then Tobias asked Jamison, "How did you learn her name? How do you know she's the Phoenix?"
"Because she told me," Jamison muttered while I cut. "She said it's not Ross anymore. She's Ayla the Phoenix, and then she shot me. Her! A woman! She killed Herod and then shot me!"
Tobias actually chuckled. "So she's still alive."
"Just hold him!" I snapped.
"Didn't you share a room with her?"
I tried to ignore him, making a large enough hole around the arrow in Jamison's leg so I could treat it without removing his pants. We weren't supposed to see what was under men's clothing unless there was no other option.
Once I got a circle cut away, I tossed the bloody leather to the floor and moved for the ethanol. This was my favorite part, but Tobias was still looking at me.
"Hold him," I repeated.
The giant of a man leaned forward, putting all of his weight on Jamison's body. First I pulled the arrow from his thigh, yanking it out quickly, yet feeling flesh tear more than I'd expected. Once the arrow was free, I paused to glance at it, and nearly froze again.
The tip was like the blue-fletched arrows. It had four sides, and all of them were sharp. These tore up the body, killing easier than so many of the others we saw. At the head of the bed, Tobias exhaled in surprise.
"The same arrows."
"Which means getting the one out of his shoulder won't be easy," I pointed out. "Tobias, he can't move."
"Or what?" Tobias asked.
"Or he'll never use that shoulder again."
The man's lips tensed, one side moving up a bit, but his hazel eyes were cold. "You sure you want me to hold him that well, then?"
"I am a healer," I insisted, even as I reached for the shaft of the last arrow.
Which was when Jamison began to mutter again. "They took her in. They must've. I just don't know how she's still alive. The Dragons kill us. They should've killed her too. They should've left her chained to the tree, but they didn't. They took her in and made her a monster, just like them!"
I pulled before he could say more. I'd heard enough. I was sure of this now. This was my sign. Ayla had found a way to let me know she was alive, and Jamison was lying here confirming it!
But I didn't pull straight. I didn't try to do it kindly. The tip of this terrifying thing was buried deep in his joint, and I felt the capsule pop as it came free. Tendons, ligaments, and other parts of the body I wouldn't know about if I hadn't read about them in those banned books all tore, bled, and hurt like hell as the sharpened arrow came out.
Jamison screamed. Tobias held him down. I struggled not to smile, because I was not the kind and Godly woman I was supposed to be. I did this because it was my own revenge. It was the one way I could take out my anger on the men who treated me like little more than an object to make their lives easier.
Well, this was the sort of "easy" they'd get from me.
Yet when the arrow came free, I couldn't pause to gloat. I wanted to, but there were too many eyes in this room. Grabbing the bottle of ethanol, I poured it on his wounds again, watching as the man arched his back, trying to escape the pain.
Only then did I get the needle and suture. I worked on his shoulder first, carefully clamping any blood vessels that hadn't stopped bleeding and then closing the wound around them. The whole time, Tobias watched me, not Jamison.
"Callah?" he finally asked.
"Mhm?"
"Was your mother in quarantine?"
