Free Serpentine Tongue by Kayden McLeod Page B

wildlife mar their perfection.
    He disappeared. Not soon after, a horrendous crash shook the world beneath her feet. She ached for the creature, stupid as it were to care at all for him. The circle of life and death wasn’t her concern anymore. Yet, she wondered. Did he still breathe? Could he be saved?
    She dropped her basket, picked up her skirts and thrashed through the undergrowth. She found him a mile off, lying on his side, eyes closed. His chest heaved a shallow, desperate rhythm.
    She inched closer, understanding well what an injured beast might do in desperation. When the brilliant blue and green dragon watched her, she barely noticed the triple iris no animal possessed. Intelligent curiosity burned underneath the agony. She closed the distance. Siobhan was by no means a helpless whelp without magick. She was a highborn Sidhe noble. Granted, in hiding, but all the same.
    Bending over the first arrow, she readied a defensive spell, leaving off the last word. She’d be able to cast in less than a second, if the need arose. He lifted his head, huffed, and thumped back to the grass.
    “You poor darling,” she cooed.
    Her hand trailed to the next arrow, twice as deep. She winced. Only part of his chest wound was exposed. “I wish you had landed on your other side. I need to see all of this, before I can assess how best to help you.”
    He grunted, and pushed himself onto his back. The pointed scales along his spine curved against the weight.
    Her hand went to her throat. Had he understood her? How extraordinary! “Do not fret, dragon. I shall be quick. Then we can attend your smaller wounds.”
    She realized her mistake in her promise. If she cast a healing incantation, she must rid herself of the defensive spell. The grand lizard shifted, growling under its breath.
    “Do not be so forceful,” she muttered. Alas, this wasn’t the first time she’d placed herself in harm’s way. She rushed through an invocation first forward, then backward, as the spell called for. Not many practitioners used natural magick to heal anymore, but easier potions that required less skill, than ability to follow the written directions. Green specks littered the air.
    She collected them one by one, molding the magick into a malleable ball. She smoothed the balm over the gash. The area glowed iridescent, the old magick stitching the edges together. Satisfied that over the next dozen or so minutes he’d mend well enough to move. The worst was over. She tended the arrows as gently as she could.
    He hissed and writhed as she pulled out the first, growled at the second. On the fifth, his reserve of precious energy depleted. His throat vibrated, a painful purr as she removed them from his slick scales. She counted thirty-two arrows on the ground, and shuddered. How awful.
    One more to go. On his neck, so close to the major artery. She crept forward, determined he slept. Yet as she loomed over him, his eye slid open again. Such pain and quiet fear. He was so brave, kind even. His muscles quivered under his scales, as if they fought to get away from one another. Was he smaller than he’d been a moment ago?
    She touched the arrow and pulled. The scales violently rippled. She glanced at his face, startled to find his nose shorter, the color of his skin lightening by shade, to a bright, luminescent white. A horrifying crunching sound roared in her ears. The body of the dragon compacted, by threes, shrinking, leaving a naked, breathless male with pointed ears. Dumbstruck, she stood over him, bloodied arrow in hand.
    She had aided a Sidhe ? A shape shifter at that. Unheard of in many a year. Her mind reeled, terror shattering her. They’d found her.
    Reeling back, she collapsed on her backside. Weakly, his arm rose, reaching for her, beckoning for her.
    “Please, I give my most solemn oath that I mean you no harm. Help me.”
    * * * *
    Dearg combed the forest for the second consecutive day. The Knights had searched as well, fruitless in their