The wind runner book 10.., p.40
The Wind Runner: Book 10 (The Wandering Inn), page 40
“Ah.”
Aiko’s eyes went wide. She covered her eyes—then her nose—and then dry heaved. Geneva mastered the impulse as the smell hit her—and then her nose went dead.
Thank you, Okasha.
But there was no way to turn off her eyes. Geneva stared down at the man’s groin, which was saturated with the worst case of…Yellow Rivers was a good name for it. The Human man looked up at Geneva, eyes pleading, full of pain. He was a man. Male, and proportioned as any man from Earth would be. But the rash and…it was hard to tell at first.
Geneva had seen a lot of horrific sights in medical school. But, she had to admit, even her stomach wanted to eject itself. Aiko was still gagging. Not just because of the sight. Because of the smell and the way the infection dripped.
But Geneva was a [Doctor]. And after a moment she took to assess the situation and control herself, she got to work.
“This is clearly a problem. You used a healing potion on it, didn’t you?”
“Yes. I thought it was a sore, but after I used it—it hurt so much. Please, can you fix it? I’d lose it. If it meant all this went away, even cutting it right off would be—”
The man whimpered. He was in a world of suffering. And that, more than anything, gave Geneva the ability to touch the inflicted areas, clearing pus away, getting a good look at the problem and telling Aiko to hand her the antibiotic treatments she’d worked up. That, and a strong pair of gloves.
——
The first patient took thirty minutes to tend to, and Geneva gave him a list of instructions and promised to be back the next day. His infection wouldn’t resolve itself overnight, no matter what he might have hoped, but she could see that her visit had given him some hope of surviving. The second patient Geneva saw was a little better—but only just.
“The same symptoms, the same illness and vector. It definitely came from your brothel.”
“And will it spread?”
Quallet was waiting for Geneva and Aiko after they finished the second patient. Geneva scrubbed her hands in two buckets of soapy water, never mind the fact that her hands were sterile and she’d worn gloves. There were some things you just needed to wash up for.
“Not if they keep out of contact with the others. And obviously I should say this: no sexual intercourse.”
“Won’t be a problem. You couldn’t pay anyone in the company to touch those two. Man, woman, Lizardfolk, Dullahan, Centaur—I don’t even think the Selphids would want a body like that.”
“Definitely not.”
Quallet nodded back towards the tent.
“Will they survive?”
“It’s down to how well my treatment works. And how clean they can keep the injury. They won’t be marching with you any time soon. They need rest, and the infections can’t be contained and agitated by their clothing.”
The [Captain] grimaced.
“So, what? They’ll be lying buck-naked with that out for—”
“Not in the open. There are bugs. I’ve bandaged the infections, and they’re not to agitate them. But yes. We’ll need two medical tents. And I’ll be back.”
Quallet gnawed on his lip, but he acceded without much fight.
“As you wish. But the cost—”
“It won’t be much for the treatments. Don’t worry about it.”
“Nonsense. I’ll cover it. And I’ll take it out of their hides once they’re better.”
Quallet shook his head and growled. Geneva looked at him. He was a good man, for all he acted aloof sometimes. She sighed, wiped her hands on a towel, and stood up.
“I hope I can make a difference. But seeing that—there’s something I need to do. Aiko, we’re headed back to the headquarters.”
“I’ll go with you. I need to talk to Paige about more crossbows anyways.”
Geneva nodded. She, Quallet, and Aiko—who wasn’t feeling hungry or eating ever again—walked slowly back to the city. They didn’t make much conversation. Quallet and Geneva lived in different worlds. But somehow, they understood each other. They each had their way of living.
“Geneva? How are the patients? I heard there were some people with bad infections.”
“Oh yes. Quallet can fill you in. But I’ve just had a thought. Actually, I could use your help. I need to make something.”
“Really?”
Paige perked up. Geneva nodded. She led them upstairs and borrowed some parchment. She began sketching her design. It was simple, really. It took Aiko a few seconds to figure out what it was. Paige got it in a moment.
“Oh come on. Really?”
“You think it’s not necessary? Because believe me, after what I just saw? We need them.”
“Oh, the infections were down there? Oh, gross…”
Geneva ignored the comment. She kept sketching, noting different materials down. Okasha raised Geneva’s hand and pointed at the image.
“What’s that?”
“A tool that will stop more infections. But we don’t have the right materials. Paige, there’s obviously no rubber available to us, but I think linen might work. Can you get me some?”
The Australian girl hesitated.
“I can get you linen—but really? Sorry, I know it’s silly, but this? There’s potions—”
Geneva interrupted her brusquely.
“And this is a different issue. Get me the linen. I need it to be waterproof and come up with a treatment for it. Something that won’t harm internal organs, but which might neutralize anything. Aiko? Where’s the medicine kit?”
The two girls went to get what Geneva wanted. Meanwhile, the [Doctor] tried to wrap her mind around the problem. They’d need it to be protective, but not cumbersome. It could not come loose. How would you hold it on? And obviously it would have to be tailored. Dullahans were like Humans, but there were different sizes. And Centaurs and Lizardfolk…
Geneva stared down at what she had designed. The simplest of tools from her world. Something so basic she hadn’t thought of it. Well, she had when she’d heard of some of the Earthworlders having sex, but when she heard about morning-after potions, she hadn’t looked into it. But after seeing that bacterial infection, Geneva was sure it was necessary.
“I don’t get it. But then again, this really isn’t a Selphid problem, is it?”
Okasha stared down at the blueprints. Geneva ignored that. The Selphid might understand bodies, but she didn’t understand germ theory.
“This will save lives, Okasha.”
“I guess? But will it save Selphids from our problem?”
Geneva looked up.
“Not in this way. But the problems are related. I’ve thought a lot about the symptoms you’ve described to me. Obviously I need to see the patients first, but if I’m right, isolating an antibiotic or even taking measures like this might—”
The door crashed open. For the second time this day, Geneva spun. She thought it was Paige or Aiko being loud. But it wasn’t. It was Daly. He was panting.
“Geneva! Get your surgical kit!”
Geneva’s pulse spiked. The tone of Daly’s voice, his posture, it all told her one thing. And then she felt a jolt of fear.
“Is it Quexa?”
He’d been on a date with her. But Daly was shaking his head. He pointed to the hallway where Siri was shouting at the other Bushrangers.
“I just got a [Message]. At the Adventurer’s Guild! It’s the groups of adventurers who went to the dungeon!”
Geneva just stared at him blankly. She had no idea about the dungeon that had just been found. Daly tried to explain, tripping over his words as he beckoned at her.
“The Rustless Guard, Salamander Swimmers, the Fivefold Verminslayers—all the adventurer teams who got to the dungeon are retreating. They broke through into an old tomb and unleashed a bunch of monsters!”
Monsters. Geneva whirled and looked for her surgical tools. She rushed out the door after Daly, shouting for Aiko and then giving up and running after him. He was shouting at the Bushrangers to assemble. But they were far from the dungeon! Still, Geneva ran after him.
“What kind of monsters? Spear Spiders? Face-Eater Moths?”
She’d treated both injuries. They were horrific to deal with, potions or not. But Daly just looked back, his face grim.
“Worse. Snakes.”
——
Captain Eldima looked up and saw death. It flowed from the dungeon, dozens of sinuous bodies. She turned and shouted.
“Retreat!”
Around her, adventurers were running. The Dullahan turned and ran, trying to carry both her tower shield and mace. But she was so slow. Her new iron armor dragged at her. And she knew the enemy was closing on her. So she readied herself. It wasn’t heroism that prompted her, just the knowledge that she couldn’t escape. She looked back and saw them.
Snakes. Or rather, serpents. Not pythons or the other snakes of the jungle. As dangerous as they were, these snakes were far, far worse. They were huge.
Giant snakes. That was all. But even the smallest was as wide as Eldima. And the largest? It rose and struck like lightning. An adventurer screamed—the fangs sank into the Lizardgirl’s back, and she jerked twice before the jaws crunched down. And then the snake swallowed her whole.
Effortlessly.
That was what the dungeon had held. No treasure. Even after all the excavation of the tunnels, all the adventurers had found were already-looted rooms. And then the snakes. They’d been resting in the dungeon, fat, gorged on the prey that wandered by the entrance. Now they had a meal.
“Rustless Guard, stand and fight!”
Eldima cried out. Her Dullahans turned and formed a wall of shields. The first snake slithered towards them. It regarded the metal-clad Dullahans and hesitated. But it could feel their heartbeats. So it wavered and then struck.
The impact threw Eldima and three of the Dullahans back a step. But they’d blocked the snake. It recoiled, hissing, and one of Eldima’s [Warriors] charged, swinging an axe.
“No! Kiltem! Get—”
Too late. The snake lunged. But not with its mouth. Kiltem’s charge was stopped as the serpent rammed him with its body, sending him to the ground. Quick as a flash, it was on him. He screamed as it bit at his body, rending the iron and his flesh beneath.
“—off him!”
Eldima charged forwards and bashed the snake with her mace. It recoiled, but its scales were thick! It butted Eldima, knocking her back. She stumbled—and another snake swung towards them.
“Keep running!”
“No! Kiltem’s down!”
Eldima shouted at the others. But they were wavering. The snakes had already taken out two adventuring groups in the dungeon. Eldima and the others had been battling them for an hour and a quarter, frantically trying to collapse tunnels in the dungeon, setting traps, anything to slow the serpents. But the hungry monsters had kept coming regardless.
And now? It was over. Eldima raised her shield, hoping to strike a blow at the serpent still trying to eat Kiltem. She had [Power Strike]. But it might not even damage the serpent. She swung desperately. She saw the snake coil and tried to bring up her shield—
The impact knocked Eldima’s head loose from her body. She hadn’t secured it properly, and her head went flying. Eldima felt the air rushing past her head and then screamed in pain as it struck the ground. Desperately, she rolled her eyes, but she was on her side. She could see her body and tried to control it. The snake was puzzled by the missing head, but it wrapped itself around Eldima anyways and squeezed.
Pain. On the ground, Eldima’s head screamed. Her body fought, but it was constricted, helpless. Her team tried to save her, but the second serpent was fighting them. And all Eldima could do was watch and feel her body dying.
It was every Dullahan’s worst nightmare. This was like how they executed their criminals. Eldima’s eyes filled with tears. She struggled, cried out—
“Please!”
And she saw a flash out of the corner of her eye. Movement. But not the fleeing adventurers. Movement in the other direction. A figure advancing, rather than fleeing from the dungeon. Eldima saw the figure raise something in its hand. A crossbow. And as she watched, he fired once.
The bolt shot from the wooden bow. It sped across the ground and hit the serpent crushing Eldima in the eye. The shot was perfect—the serpent recoiled, screaming, and let Eldima go. She saw her body fall to the ground. Sobbing, Eldima ordered her body to run towards her and snatch up her head. She placed her head on her body and turned, feeling her bent armor, her fractured bones. And then she saw him. She’d thought it was her imagination. But there he was.
Daly, the Captain of the Bushrangers, lowered his crossbow. He pulled the drawstring back, loaded another quarrel, aimed, and fired. The next bolt struck the serpent menacing Eldima’s team in the side of the head. It turned. The bolt had broken on its scales. But it was distracted. The Dullahans backed away, carrying their fallen comrade. And Daly pointed.
“Bushrangers, advance!”
Five figures strode past them. Each held a crossbow. Each raised it and fired. Five more bolts flew. One struck the serpent in its open mouth, and it recoiled. But only for a second. Then it came on.
The other serpents had noticed the strange anomaly in their fleeing prey. They turned, locking onto the Bushrangers. The five reloaded and then broke up as the snakes advanced, shifting their aim to individual snakes. They fired—the bolts struck scales. The snakes flinched, but then realized they weren’t hurt. So did the adventurers. One cried out.
“They’re not going through the scales, Daly!”
“Then aim for the eyes! Just keep them busy! Siri! Hit the lure!”
“On it!”
One of the Humans had something in her hands. She hit something. A light blossomed on the device she held. Eldima, staggering towards the group, trying to shout at them to run, heard a loud sound. And then a deafening sound that went straight through her body and armor.
The thundering dubstep was cranked up past what the speakers should have allowed. It was so loud that Eldima’s ears rang. She clamped her hands to her ears. But the effect on the sensitive snakes was even worse. They had no ears, and they writhed in agony and retreated as the sound thundered. One of them lunged—Dawson raised his shield and went flying.
“Fuck!”
The Bushrangers had attracted all the attention of the snakes. They abandoned the fleeing adventurers and focused on the team. Anything to get the music to stop. But Siri used the speaker like a weapon, aiming it at the nearest serpents.
“Pull back!”
Eldima staggered towards Daly. He was shouting, waving his team back. But too slowly. They were going to be surrounded! And whenever this strange artifact ran out, they’d be dead.
“No! A few more moments! Get in position! Stay with us!”
Daly roared at his team and Eldima. She thought that’s what he said—she couldn’t hear anything. The serpents were getting over their fear of the blasting music, though. Rage was propelling them forwards. Daly was pointing back. The Bushrangers ran backwards. The snakes followed.
They were going to die. They’d responded to the [Message] spell in time, but the Bushrangers were an ambush group. They weren’t equipped to go up against giant serpents! Eldima despaired. And then she looked behind her and saw them.
A row of bodies. It stretched across the muddy ground. Hundreds of bodies. Centaurs pulling wagons. Lizardmen and Lizardwomen holding crossbows. Dullahans armed with pikes. Eldima froze. There was an entire company here! A huge one! What company had appeared? She knew that the Gravetender’s Fist company was in the area. But this was too large to be just them.
Then she saw a Lizardgirl at the front of the ranks point at the serpents. The agitated monsters hadn’t realized the danger they were in. But they got a clue as an orb of fire blasted from her claw and struck one in the face. It writhed in agony. And the army in front of them raised their crossbows.
“Move!”
Daly grabbed Eldima. His team was racing to the side. Out of the way. And before they were even in the clear, the first volley of crossbows fired.
Hundreds of bolts flew through the air. Behind them, Centaurs with longbows aimed and fired. More [Mages] threw fire and lightning and acid. The serpents weathered the bolts, took the spells. They charged forwards, armored, huge. But the assembled force didn’t waver. The first rank of pikes swung up as more spells and arrows targeted the snakes’ eyes. And then one of the [Mages] threw a bolt of lightning that left only a crater where the largest serpent’s head should have been.
“Dead gods.”
Eldima whispered. She heard laughter above the ringing in her ears. She looked up and saw Daly, still grabbing hold of her, whooping and laughing as the serpents fell. Only one even reached the lines of warriors. The Dullahan looked up at Daly, and her thoughts were wonder.
——
“How did he do it?”
That was all Eldima could ask. All the other adventurers could ask. Bewildered, they watched as the company of warriors and irregulars calmly butchered what remained of the serpents, hauling the valuable meat and scaly hides away towards the city. Eldima looked around.
“How?”
Her gaze was on Daly. He had led a group back into the dungeon, to look for survivors. Now, he was tending to what wounded there were with a small team. Eldima’s ears were still ringing, but she saw Dullahans who’d been fighting pass her by and managed to ask the question everyone wanted to know.
“Who? The Human? He didn’t call us here. And we aren’t one company. The two on the field are from Gravetender’s Fist and the Featherfolk Brigade. You should recognize us.”
The Dullahan looked affronted. Eldima instinctively bowed her head; she was wearing mangled iron armor, and he wore steel.
“I am terribly sorry. But if he did not call you all—how?”
Why would so many respond to an adventurer’s [Message]? Normally, they’d just lock down the city and leave the adventurers to their fate. The Dullahan wearing steel frowned severely, but responded grudgingly at last.
