Chapter Eleven

Something was wrong with Zoe’s hands. And something was even more wrong with Asher. His shoulder slumped, back curved in a half-circle, and his chest heaved with every breath. His shirt was soaked through with something darker than sweat and they didn’t have any bandages.

She could ignore the strange way her hands tingled and the nagging sensation that she’d done something to effect Asher’s fire. She couldn’t ignore his injuries.

The air around them was acrid with smoke, but she didn’t see any fire from the scattered parts of the machine. They didn’t have a map, she didn’t have a phone, and she wasn’t sure if Asher had some way to contact the compound.

Exactly how far away from civilization – such as it was – were they?

Zoe reached out but left her arm hovering over Asher’s shoulder, unsure of whether touching him might make everything worse.

In the distance she spotted a patch of green with a single tree valiantly climbing out of the sand. If there was greenery, there might be water, and it would be better than laying down to die among the wreckage of the thresher.

She just hoped that Asher could walk.

“We’re going to go there,” she pointed to their destination and then repeated the instruction when Asher looked at her blankly. “There,” she jabbed her finger towards the tree. “Would there be anything in the wreckage we can use? Fabric? Blankets?” As far as she knew, no person was supposed to touch the machines, but she didn’t know all of their secrets.

Asher shook his head, dashing her hopes that there might be a first aid kit. Oh well. No time to worry now.

“Can you stand?” she asked. She wanted to get herself under his arm and prop him up, but wanted him to try and move under his own power first.

He took several deep breaths before planting his hands on his legs and heaving himself up with a pained groan. He took two staggering steps in the right direction before he stumbled, and then Zoe was there, wedging herself under his arm and leading the way.

The man was heavy, and injured enough that he’d given her a good chunk of his weight. She wasn’t about to complain, not now, not when she heard the gasping pain of every third step.

Walking through the sand weighed her down just as much as half-carrying Asher did, and the oasis seemed to remain the same distance away, no matter how far they walked. After several minutes, she began to worry that it was some kind of mirage, a trick in the desert that would lead to both of them frying under the unforgiving heat of the sun.

But then they crested a small dune and began downhill, and suddenly the oasis was both closer and bigger than it had appeared in the distance. Zoe let out a sob of relief and picked up her pace until Asher began groaning with every step.

He needed a doctor, or at least some place clean. The most medical training she had came from a half-forgotten merit badge for first aid from her one year in the Girl Scouts, she wouldn’t be much help.

They entered the oasis and the broad leaves of the tree cast shade over a spot covered in soft moss. It looked like heaven and Zoe carefully laid Asher down, trying to avoid making him lean on his injured flank.

He blinked his eyes open and stared at her as she took the place in. His gaze was steady, not the haze of pain and fever she worried she might see.

A small pond filled with plants that looked a bit like lily pads was encircled by tall grass. The water was murky, but she spotted a few fish swimming and a bird sitting on one of the pads. That probably meant it was clean enough… right?

Maybe she should have done more than a year of Girl Scouts, though she didn’t think there was a merit badge for identifying alien life.

“Give me your shirt,” she held out a hand.

“What?” his voice was pained but clear.

“I’m going to dump it in the water and then try and clean your back. How bad is it?” Before this was over, she might end up using her own shirt as a bandage, but maybe they’d get a lucky break.

She was pretty sure that lucky break had been used up in surviving the explosion.

“It hurts,” Asher said as he pulled the shirt over his head. He laid down on his stomach and she got a good look at the nasty bruise circling a wound oozing a trickle of thick blood.

She winced, but was relieved. The flow of blood didn’t look too bad, even if it had to hurt like hell. Zoe took his shirt and carefully rinsed it in the pond until it was clean of dirt and blood and sand. She wrung it out as best as she could and then slowly walked back over to the resting dragon.

“This is probably going to hurt even more,” she warned. “But we don’t want it getting infected. Can dragons even get infections?” Either way, she wanted his wound clean.

He hissed as she pressed the makeshift rag against his back. “We can,” he gritted out. “But this should heal quickly.” He hissed again as she scraped over a particularly sensitive spot.

Zoe didn’t let his distress stop her. A bit of pain now would make things better later. It would be worth it. It had to be.

“Okay, I think that’s enough. Stay on your stomach.” She couldn’t have him rolling over and ruining all her hard work.

She dunked the shirt in the water again and then wrung it out again before hanging it on the lowest branch of the tree to dry. Finally satisfied, she sat down beside Asher, her back to the tree.

He made a displease sound and she surged forward.

“What’s wrong?” Had she missed something? Was he bleeding internally?

“I can’t see you,” he said, sounding a bit put out by that.

She let out a relieved laugh and changed her position so she was laying down beside him. Their heads were only a few inches apart, but there was no chance of anything happening now, now with him so injured and there being so much sand around them.

“What do we do now?” she asked. She hadn’t been able to think beyond getting them to the oasis and cleaning Asher’s wound. Her brain was fried and she was happy to lay here until they were magically rescued.

“Communicator.” He shifted his position, trying to reach into his pocket.

“Let me,” she said, reaching for him. But she found both of his pockets empty. “Could it be anywhere else.”

“Fell out.”

She was afraid of that. “Any other ideas?”

He reached out and clasped their hands together, entwining their fingers. “Someone will come to investigate the thresher. Tomorrow morning at the latest. They’ll find us.” He didn’t sound too worried.

Zoe decided to believe it was true. This was Asher’s planet, he knew the protocols. If he said someone was coming, they’d come. “I don’t suppose we can hike back to the cottage?” she wasn’t eager to get up, but there was food and a bed back there.

He shook his head. “We’re more than halfway to the compound. It’s a day’s walk either way.”

“You fly fast.” It had been exhilarating up in the air with him, but she hadn’t realized just how fast they were going. “Do you ever race?”

“Only every time I see my brothers.” There was a smile in his voice.

“Do you win?”

“When Flint and Knox don’t cheat.”

She laughed. “It sounds nice.”

“What?” he squeezed her hand and their gazes locked.

Zoe’s heart flipped over. She had it so bad for this guy and was steaming straight ahead into heartbreak.

What would he do if she kissed him right now?

She forced herself to talk instead. “Having a big family. It was always just me and my mom back home. Until… well, now it’s just me.”

He squeezed her hand again. “I’m sorry about that. My parents would be crazy about you.”

“Really? They wouldn’t care that I’m human?” he made it sound like such a dealbreaker for his boss. And wasn’t he a lord? Shouldn’t he care about that?

“If I’m happy, they’re happy. And they’ve wanted me to be happy for a very long time.”

“Are you?” he invited the question, but asking felt beyond intrusive. Still, she couldn’t help herself.

“Never happier.” The confession hung between them.

She had to say something, to give him something back to make him understand that she knew exactly what he meant, even if it was impossible. There was no place she’d rather be than laying beside him, even if they were both dirty and hurt and reeling from nearly being exploded.

“I think I did something to your fire,” she said, wincing at her own subject change. “How is that possible? It was like I waved my hand and it did what I wanted.” She needed the explanation, needed some way to make sense of the impossible.

But after more than a minute, Asher didn’t answer. His eyes had drifted closed and his breath evened out.

The injured dragon was asleep.

Zoe’s answers would have to wait.