Leah's Hero - Miranda Martin Page 0,16

we used to bind the Zmaj to the sticks. They resist his tearing and his frustration grows.

I step forward, carefully avoiding his tearing arms, then I get my hands on the main knot holding it all together. I untie it and the Zmaj slips free, sliding down. Before he hits the ground, Rakstan has him and carries him into our home.

“Angota!” Rakstan yells.

Voices echo off the stone walls as excitement reaches a fever pitch. Everyone knows something has happened, so they crowd into the main room. I follow Rakstan and my stomach growls. Stupid time to be hungry. It’s stress, I know it. That’s always been my response to stress.

Angota pushes through the crowd as Rakstan lays the new Zmaj down on our dining table. Angota stops the instant he sees the newcomer.

“This can’t be,” he says softly, moving closer.

The shock of their recognition has left me numb. I’m thinking slow, witnessing the action around me as if it’s happening to someone else. On a vid screen or something. As Angota moves next to the table, reality crashes in, and my thoughts speed up again.

This man is hurt and I’m standing around gawking. What is wrong with me? I push past Mick to the cooking station where there should be water.

“Hey!” Mick cries out.

I ignore her protest and grab the pitcher of water. It’s full, thankfully. I find the rags and move through the group to the table.

“Look out,” I say, forcing my way through, water sloshing in the pitcher.

I get next to the newcomer and set to work. My hands move through long practiced, familiar motions. It calms my nerves to be working, doing what I know. My moves are the result of years of training and experienced, and they don’t require thought.

I clean off the mud I used to pack the wounds. His natural clotting has set in, but as I work to get the dirt and mud out, fresh bleeding occurs. He’ll need stitches, a lot of them. I’m not even touching the arm yet. Every time I look at it my stomach clenches, and sympathetic pain shoots through my own arm.

One thing at a time. That’s the way you deal with a trauma. Stop the bleeding then worry about the arm.

“I’m going to need thread and some kind of needle,” I say, studying the long, deep wounds running down his chest.

That creature shredded him, but the cuts are clean, if deep. It shouldn’t be too bad if I can close them up to stop the bleeding. The wounds don’t seem to have hit anything major. His scales kept the monster’s claws from going very deep, which is something to be thankful for at least.

“We don’t have anything,” Riley says.

“We need something,” I order. “Anything.”

Murmurs and low conversation rise around me, then shuffling, and people move off to search for something that will work for what I need. As I finish cleaning the last of the mud, someone lays some tools down on the table next to me. I pick them up and frown.

It’s a needle… of sorts. Looks like it’s from some kind of animal, a quill. Someone has made a hole through it for the thread, so its serviceable. The thread is animal gut. This isn’t going to be pretty, but it should save his life. That’s all I can ask.

I thread the needle and set to work. As I do, he stirs, shifting. I try to work faster, but the moving around is making it even harder.

“Hold him still,” I order.

The two men jump to obey. I’m in control now. It’s the first time since the crash that I feel something like myself. I hope I can hold on to this. This is me, not that scared girl who can’t face the day.

I finish up the stitches, then look him over to make sure I haven’t missed any open wounds. Satisfied as I can be that the immediate threat is handled, I look at the arm. My stomach flips again, and bile rises into the back of my mouth. The angle of his forearm is so wrong, it hurts to look at. There’s a right angle about halfway down, and bits of bone bulging against the skin.

I have to set it but it’s not going to be easy. If he wakes up…

I can’t let that happen. I have no drugs, no pain killers, and no sedatives, but I have to set that arm before he comes around. There will be no way to do