Page 45 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

“Right,” I said again, steeling myself. “I’m going to need your trousers.”

Chapter 16

Ididn’treallyneedto cut up Caspian’s trousers for bandages, as there turned out to be plenty of material from the sail. There was even enough to fashion myself something of a bodice and skirt, which amounted to no more than strategically placed strips of cloth covering my most intimate areas, but it was better than nothing.

The process of setting wings and ribs was not pleasant, and there were several times I had to injure Caspian further to try to set a bone. I had no idea if I was doing it correctly, but he seemed to have a thorough understanding of his wings’ anatomy and a high pain tolerance, and I only had to stop a few times to put my head between my knees in case I passed out.

I tied the driftwood to the wings as he instructed, using strips of cloth or pieces of kelp to steady the brace and hold his wings in place. It looked terribly uncomfortable, but he seemed satisfied with my work, despite the fact he still looked gray and close to passing out.

“How long will it take them to heal?” I asked, tying the final strip of cloth in place and sitting back to study my handiwork.

“A few weeks to heal fully,” he rasped out, still lying on his stomach in the sand. He gave me a bleary golden stare, and I realized he was attempting and failing to smirk. “But only a few days to remove the brace.”

“If I set them right,” I said, worrying my bottom lip.

“My people can re-break and reset them, if necessary,” he rumbled, exhaustion starting to get the better of him again. “You did well.”

I nodded, feeling incapable of commenting on something so horrible. What if he couldn’t fly because of me? It would be like telling a selkie they could never swim again. Never taste the sea currents or ride the waves.

I pulled more water from the air, only a trickle coming to my palms as my magic waned. I needed food and sleep. My lungs were tight and uncomfortable, but there wasn’t much I could do about that right now either.

“I found a cave,” I said, leaning down to cup the water to his mouth. He drank, the water gone too quickly for both of us. “Do you think you can walk?”

“Not yet,” Caspian said, words a bit slurred as he fought for consciousness.

“Rest,” I commanded, lying back and sighing as I tried to picture my breathing moving in time with the waves. It eased the tightness a fraction, and Caspian was already unconscious when I turned my head back to him.

I must have been even more exhausted than I’d thought, because I woke to the sensation of something soft pressing against my face, first at my temple, then my cheek, then my lips.

I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut and still feeling completely drained of all magic.

“Wake up, Urchin,” a male voice croaked, sounding just as exhausted as I felt. “Show me this cave you found.”

“Five more minutes,” I whined, turning in the sand away from Caspian. He chuckled weakly, and I forced myself up, rubbing the sand and salt from my eyes. “You look terrible.”

“You have such a way with words,” Caspian quipped, forcing himself to his hands and knees, his skin a sickly shade of green.

I scrambled to my feet, tucking the sharpened abalone shell into the waistband of my makeshift skirt, and helped him rise. He hissed in pain at the movement, but his wings seemed to hold wrapped in sail and driftwood. His skin was cold and clammy, but at least he wasn’t feverish on top of his injury.

“You’re not well,” he commented, leaning on me heavily as we began to trudge down the beach. “Your lungs.”

It was a comment, and I didn’t bother to reply. My breathing was reedy and there was a permanent ache at the base of my lungs that made every inhale sharp and shallow, but it wasn’t that much worse than a normal bad day. I might also have a broken rib or two, but I hoped with rest it would improve, although a niggling part of my brain knew I was in some trouble. I would need to go and scavenge when I wasn’t so tired. Maybe I could find some of the medicinal plants that the palace healers used in my tea.

“I’m fine,” I wheezed out, straining under the effort of holding half of his weight. “Just my normal uncooperative organs.”

Caspian grunted, but was either too tired to say more himself, or he knewIwas too short of breath to say anything else.

We hobbled along the beach for what seemed like hours, but was probably only an hour at most based on the speed of the setting sun.

It was dark and windy and freezing by the time I found the cave, and my feet were torn bloody on the sharp rocks and shells. The abalone knife had cut into my skin at some point, and I could feel blood soaking into the fabric of the sail. I would need to wash and dress it before sleeping again.

Caspian seemed to be in no better condition, limping and practically dragging himself forward, hissing with every step. His lips were cracked and dry, and his skin had gone from sickly green to dull gray.

He collapsed in the mouth of the cave, pulling me down with him. I managed to drag him a few inches further in to keep us out of the wind before my strength gave out and I flopped back.

“Water,” Caspian rasped, his voice sounding as dry and cracked as his lips. He was face down on the sandy floor of the cave, looking more like a bedraggled seagull than a Siren King, and I felt an unexpected pang of warmth toward him. Not attraction, because this certainly wasnotthe time, but caring. Affection mixed with concern. Seas below, what was wrong with me?

My unexpected nap had revived a trickle of my magic, but I was only able to pull a mouthful of clean water from the surrounding air. Caspian’s need was greater than mine, I decided, and I held it to his lips.