"Can he stand?"
"He shouldn't. He needs--"
"Moria, there's no healer here. If he can walk--"
Daigo answered by struggling to his feet. Three of his wounds gushed fresh blood.
"No!" she said, pushing him back down. "He'll hurt himself more. They need to be sewn. I didn't bring-- Blast it, why didn't I bring--?"
Tears sprang to her eyes. She wiped them away. "You go on ahead. Send someone back."
"It'll be days before I reach Fairview, Moria. Then someone has to return--"
"By horse. They'll return by horse. We have water. I can hunt for food. We'll be fine."
"No, you won't. Not with that creature hunting for its food. We need to go before it comes back. We have to find shelter."
She sprang up. "And abandon Daigo? I do not leave him. Anywhere. Ever. If that monster comes back, it comes back for both of us, because--"
"Moria, calm yourself." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I know you won't leave him. I wouldn't ask you to. I meant that we need to figure this out."
She took a deep breath, then peered over the landscape. There were piles of rock here and there, and gullies, too, where the earth had shifted. Were any nearby ones enough to shelter the three of them from the thunder hawk?
"They taught me battle healing," she said. "Why didn't I pay more attention?"
As she cursed herself, Gavril said hesitantly, "I might be able to help."
She looked up sharply. Sorcery. Healing magic.
"I also had lessons in battle healing," he said quickly, as if reading her thoughts.
And you didn't mention this when your head was injured? Or when that beast shot quills in us? No, Gavril, that is not what you mean at all.
It didn't matter. He could help Daigo. That was all that counted. She backed away.
"You ought to gather the packs," he said. "Some items may have fallen out. You should go look."
You want me to leave so I don't see you use sorcery.
"I need to keep him still and clean his wounds. I don't care what you do, Gavril. I'll tell no one."
He broke eye contact and shook his head, his jaw setting. "I don't know what you mean, but if you don't go and look around . . ."
He didn't finish the threat, but she heard it clearly. Leave me or I'll let your bond-beast die.
She walked away, and she kept walking until she heard only the distant murmur of his voice, casting his spells. Then she lowered herself to the rocky ground, pulled up her knees, and waited.
Thirty-four
Whatever Gavril did, it didn't miraculously cure Daigo. Moria expected that. She knew a little about sorcery. When villagers told hushed tales of evil men who would murder infants and mutilate children, their father would take the girls aside, particularly Moria.
"I know you enjoy such tales, Rya," he'd say. "But you must never soil an entire people with twisted lies. There are sorcerers. I've seen them. I've traded with them. They know small magics, helpful magics."
"And nothing more?" she'd ask.
When she was young, he'd say no, nothing more. As she grew older, though, he'd said, "There are dark uses for sorcery. It is a tool. It can be a simple one, used for simple things, like a blade for cutting meat. It can also be more dangerous, like a sword, but even then, it is intended only to defend oneself against one's enemies. Yet not every man who wields a sword is honorable, and so, too, with sorcerers."
Whatever Gavril had done to Daigo, it had been that simple kind of sorcery. A magical stitching of his wounds. But it was enough. Daigo was on his feet and moving.