Rymar and Kanik were carrying people who'd been hurt too seriously to be treated in the street. Zasen explained they were being taken to the hospital, similar to how I'd been that first day. Evidently there were even more doctors to care for them there.
In the compound, the women treated the men. In Lorsa, some people were trained to do nothing else. They fixed colds and broken bones, and - to my surprise - assisted with everything from kidney stones to birth. There was no need to pray for a cure, because medicine would usually provide one. Here, more people died to Moles and predators in the forest than the ailments I'd grown up fearing.
And yet I managed to help a few people. Some had cuts that needed to be sewn closed. The numbing agent meant it didn't even hurt them. Others had injuries which had happened when fleeing, like tripping or hitting something. The bruises would heal, but I couldn't be sure if some had broken their bones.
That was how I learned Zasen knew quite a bit of first-aid. Evidently, he'd intended to become a doctor like his mother. He'd studied medicine when he was younger - until the Moles had killed his father.
Then he'd learn to kill them first.
But we couldn't save everyone. Wandering the streets, I saw the aftermath up close. Both men and women had run into the fray. Children had been caught in the crossfire. I sewed them all, but the children accepted my help easier than the adults. One woman even threatened to sting me, and only Zasen's presence kept me safe.
Yet it seemed like everyone in town was out, trying to help. Then again, I hadn't seen all of Lorsa, so my version of "the entire town" was a bit skewed. Still, the streets were crowded with the injured and those offering aid. Zasen and I worked late into the night, sometimes running into Rymar and Kanik in the process.
Both of them had paused to make sure I was okay, but there was no time for a long talk. Once the injured were moved, the men had to start hauling out the dead. Both Moles and Dragons.
I'd just finished bandaging a man's arm when a woman began wailing. Looking over, I quickly tied off the gauze on the man's injury, then went to see if I could offer any assistance. Naomi was already there, but the child's wound had been too much. A beautiful little tailless girl lay limp in her mother's arms, her eyes open but no longer seeing the world. Blood stained the girl's stomach from a single bullet wound.
I choked back a sob and turned away, looking for the next person I could help, but the mother saw me. Before I even made it two steps, the woman was on me, screaming words I couldn't understand and lashing out at me. I thought it was just her fists, at first.
Then fire seared my side.
"Mole!" she screamed, pulling back what must've been the only weapon she owned: a kitchen knife.
"Fuck!" Zasen snapped, grabbing the woman and trying to pull her off me.
She wasn't about to give up that easily, though. Over and over, she screamed, "Mole," pummeling me with the hand Zasen wasn't holding, and I took it. Wrapping my arms over my face to lessen the abuse, I refused to lift a hand, and tears streamed from my eyes just like they were from the mother's.
A little girl was dead because of Moles. I looked like a Mole. I didn't want to be one anymore, and I hated them, but that wouldn't bring the child back to life. Each breath hurt from the gash the mother had cut in my side, but my heart hurt worse.
All of this was wrong. It was so very wrong! How could anyone do this and then call themselves "Righteous?" How could I not have known? Didn't that somehow make it my fault?
And worse than all of that, how would I ever be able to find a place here? How could these people look at me with my blonde hair, blue eyes, and sun-sheltered skin and not see the enemy? To them, I was a walking nightmare. Everyone seemed to have lost a loved one to my people, and they had to hate me for it.
That was why Zasen said I couldn't be a Dragon.
So as the mother continued to scream, kick, and try to take her rage out on my body, I accepted it. Zasen struggled to stop her, but I wouldn't beg him for help. With each hit she landed, I could feel another piece of my hope starting to crumble.
This place had been perfect. The days spent reading had been too good to be true. When the men hadn't punished me for my insolence and defiance, I should've realized this would never last. Zasen had said it himself. He'd tried to manipulate me into helping. He'd been willing to overlook what I was in order to get what he wanted.
No one else would.
To them, I was the enemy. I would always be the enemy. It also didn't matter. Maybe I would never be welcome here, but that didn't make it okay for the Moles to attack these people. To kill them! Worse, to feed them to us as if they were little more than animals!
No, I would make sure I told Zasen everything he wanted to know about life inside the compound. I would have Kanik teach me to speak Vestrian so well I no longer had an accent. And then, somehow, I would find a way to stop the Moles from ever coming back here, because if I didn't belong in this amazing place, at least the Dragons did, and paradise deserved to be protected.
Finally, Zasen got enough help to pull the woman away from me. Three other men grabbed her, carrying her off as she continued to wail and scream. That was grief. That was the sort of anguish I'd felt when my mother had died, but I hadn't been allowed to show it.
Then Zasen scrambled to my side. "She didn't mean it," he said, lifting me up so he could check me for injuries.
I took a shuddering breath, trying to push back my own sadness. "She did. She did, and she has every right."
Then Naomi was beside me. "Are you hurt?" she asked.
But the moment I was sitting up, they both saw. Right across my side, at the bottom of my ribs, my dress was cut. Blood was staining the fabric and my skin was visible through it. I wanted to press at the injury, but Zasen stopped me.
"You don't want to get dirt in that," he said gently.
"Take her home," Naomi ordered. "You can treat her there."
I shook my head. "No. Please? I'm so sorry, Naomi. I didn't know, but I can still help. They didn't tell us where they hunted or what. I didn't know why people hated Moles until now. I had no idea, but I can still help!"
Naomi just cupped the side of my face. "And now you need to be helped. Go home, Ayla. The easy ones are cared for. The rest may not make it. That mother will not be the only one who wants to hurt you for something you didn't do, and you already need sutures."
"I can take it," I assured her. "They deserve to be angry, and I don't mind. I can still help. I know how to deal with punishment…"
Naomi just shook her head again. "Ayla, you can't. You need to go home, let Zasen treat that gash, and take care of yourself." It was clearly an order.
Then Naomi leaned over and wrapped her arms around her son. Zasen hugged her tightly before pressing a kiss to her brow. He wasn't even ashamed about showing that much affection in public.
Naomi just clasped the back of his head. "Take care of her. She did good tonight."
"More than you know, Mom," Zasen said before slipping an arm under my legs. The other went behind my back, and he lifted. "I got you, Ayla."
I didn't try to fight him, but over his shoulder, I could see all the people still in the street. Too few of them were the bodies of hunters in black. Too many of the others were no longer moving.
Forty-FourZasen
The girl weighed nothing in my arms. Carrying her back to our house was easy, but that thought made me pause. Our house. Not merely mine, Rymar's, and Kanik's anymore, but also Ayla's. Somewhere in the last few weeks, this woman had become something I liked having around.
