Alora: The Maladorn Scroll (Alora 3)

Both healers stopped for a moment to

look at Bardamen. But before either could make a move, the girl named Beth fell to her knees beside Bardamen, turning him on his back. She put her hand on his neck, leaning her ear next to his mouth.

“He’s not breathing,” she announced. “But he still has a pulse.”

Pinching his nose closed, Beth blew air into his mouth. His chest rose, and Mera thought he’d started breathing on his own. But he remained motionless until the girl sent another breath into his body.

Doc spoke as he continued his work on Kaevin. “Keep it up, Beth. We’re almost done here.”

Mera knelt beside her. “I can help, if you show me what to do.”

**************

Alora didn’t have the strength to keep her eyes open. Her mouth was dry and pasty, but everyone was far too busy to ask for a drink. Everyone except her Uncle Charles, but she’d probably fall over if he left her alone.

“How are we doing, Jireo?” asked Uncle Charles. “What’s that bond of yours saying?”

Jireo swallowed hard, giving his head a small negative shake. “I can’t give you much hope.”

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it,” Alora murmured. “I feel pretty weak.”

“Alora, are you certain you ate your evening meal?” asked Laethan.

Searching her fuzzy memory, Alora tried to recall her dinner. It seemed such a long time ago.

“Yes, I remember going back for seconds.”

“Before you threw up on the rug in Daegreth’s room?”

The question came from Wesley, who must have just arrived, because the bits of his face not smoke-smudged looked green after he got a good view of what Doc and Laethan were doing. “Ugh!! Don’t look, Dad.”

Wesley and Brian came to stand close to her and Uncle Charles, both keeping their backs to the surgery.

Alora closed her eyes again, unable to bear the expression of shock and horror on Wesley’s face. Or the look of pity he gave her.

“What can we do, Charles?” asked Brian. “The Stone Clan warriors are getting the villagers and the horses and animals to safety. But it’s getting pretty smoky outside.

“Find Arista and Markaeus and put our stuff in the portal,” he answered. “Doc says were leaving the moment they’re done.”

“Arista’s already outside, ready to open the portal,” said Wesley.

Uncle Charles mumbled something about Markaeus under his breath.

“Hey Brian!” Doc pointed at Bardamen with his chin. “Can you two carry this guy through the portal? What’s his name? Bart? He’s inhaled smoke, so we need to get him back to Montana. Get him on oxygen.”

“I’m not sure he’ll make it,” said Beth, from the floor, where she heaved rhythmic compressions on Bardamen’s bared chest, an act that appeared more brutal in person than Alora had imagined. “His heart’s not beating anymore.”

Doc shouted a curse word that made Alora’s eyes pop open wide. Throwing his instruments down, he ripped his gloves off. “You got this?” he asked Laethan.

The healer didn’t look up, answering with a muffled grunt.

“Come on, guys—if we hurry we can save this man. I’ve got an AED in my truck, so we can restart his heart.”

In fifteen seconds, Bardamen’s body was out the door, and the healing house was almost deserted, save the few who were too injured to leave their beds. Everyone else had gone to fight the fire or salvage their livestock and belongings.

Laethan never slowed his work, but he probed Alora with more questions. “You lost your dinner, Alora? All of it?”

So fatigued she caught her head bobbing, Alora blinked hard, trying to stay alert.