TheWalkingWoundedDeux(Cole and Gillian continued from A Beating of the Minds) In the hallway, Rhea finally succumbed to her emotions. She leaned into Cole's arm, "I think I've had enough killing for one day. I hate this. I hate this." Yeah," Cole said, "Me too." He almost told Rhea that it looked like Rinaldo was already dead before Rhea got there, but his small underdeveloped sense of tact asserted itself, suggesting that there was less value in saying such a thing than just holding her and being comforting. The progress to the infirmary was slow and awkward; the troops having to balance the Royals between them like a sedan. Much of the smoke had cleared and the castle remained eerily silent. If the battle continued, it was far away. Gillian slipped by Cole and Rhea, giving them their privacy. She paused in the entrance to another corridor to throw up on her empty stomach, which turned into dry heaves. Two minutes later, she wiped her mouth and continued on despondently toward the infirmary, using Cybele's memories to guide her if she had lost the troops escorting Random and Vialle. It didn’t take long for her to catch up to the group. They’d just reached the infirmary. And the image of the King and Queen in distress did not sit well with the Royal guard. Flora emerged to meet them; her paranatural beauty even shining through the blood and exhaustion. “What happened?!” "Rinaldo stabbed Vialle," Gillian replied, "and then Random put them both in some sort of Pattern-induced stasis." She wiped her hands on the front of her skirt. "Would you like me to try to wake him up?" Flora nodded, "Yes, I'll need your help with this." She and a nurse prepared a trauma cart while the soldiers placed the couple beside an empty stretcher. When they were ready, the Princess turned to Gillian. "I'm told you are skilled with the Trumps. Contact him and inform him that we are ready to treat her," she said. Gillian realized that Trumps were more than likely the only communication method available at this point - as their 'time' remained relative to both sides of a contact. Gillian resisted the temptation to just go sit quietly in a corner somewhere and contemplate the apparent paradox of this special feature of trump, like eating chocolate to someone having an especially bad day. Instead, she brought Random's features to mind again and focused on establishing a contact. Cole wanted to take Rhea back to her room and help her get cleaned up, but she needed to be with her parents. And, he realized, the others needed her there. The monarchy of Amber wasn't strictly patrilinear, but as the child of the reigning king and queen she was a figure of authority. He snagged a shell-shocked serving maid who had sought refuge in the infirmary. "Hey. Wake up. The princess needs fresh clothes. Can you go to her room and get some for her?" The frightened girl nodded. "Good. Find someone to go with you and help. Be quick about it." He led Rhea to a cot where she could sit down. "Hold still," he told her, gently, and started cleaning her face with a damp cloth. Focusing on her helped him calm himself down, and keep from looking at the injured soldiers moaning around them. Rhea stared at him numbly, allowing him to take care for a time. The self-assurance had fled from her, replaced only by desperate exhaustion. Her gazed flicked over to the operation, then retreated. "She's going to die, isn't she?" "It does look bad," Cole said, "but I'm no doctor. And your aunt knows what she's doing. The injury is to the queen's body, not her head. If we can take her someplace where her body can regenerate, and she can survive the start of that process, it seems to me that she could recover. And the king has put her in a stasis so she won't die until that process is set up and ready to start. I think we can be cautiously hopeful." He couldn't help but add, in his own head, *Assuming we can stop the Nyx from destroying everything.* Some incompletely-assimilated part of Finndo in his head railed at him as a coward for having such a traitorous doubt, but there it was. Rhea nodded weakly, "You're right. You're right. She'll be fine." He could tell she almost believed it. "The Family will make sure of it." She gripped his hand, squeezing. "Thank you." Across the room, Gillian felt the stirrings of Random's mind. He seemed distant, even though he crouched only a few feet away. "Are we ready?" he said, his voice desperate. "She's almost gone." She could sense in his thoughts the deep love he had for Vialle, and the pressing fear of losing her. A sadness filled her. She had that love once, and she threw it away. <Yes, sire. We're in the castle infirmary. Flora is ready to receive her.> The Pattern-shell dropped; the air around the Royal Couple rushing out like a coppery breath. Vaille's blood began to flow again, ebbing around the assassin's weapon. Flora moved like a shot, wrapping bandages around the blades hilt, staunching the flow. "Cole, help me get her on the table. Gillian, keep Random out of my way." Gillian slipped her hand in Random's elbow and gently drew him back away from the crush around Vialle. "Rhea is here too, sire," she whispered in his ear, "and she needs her father." Random stared at her blankly, eyes wet with worry. "Yes," he said, extending his hand to Rhea. She slipped from Cole's embrace and into her father's arms. They held onto one another tightly, focused solely on Vaille. The entire infirmary appeared to hold its breath, going silent. The Queen was obviously loved by all. Cole swiftly traded places with Random, lifting Vialle onto the table. In his arms, wounded as she was, she seemed so much smaller than when he'd first met her as the queen. It didn't seem right. No, it didn't seem right. And it wasn't right. She shouldn't be hurt. It made no sense for Rinaldo to attack her. And what they were doing now, here, made no sense. He'd been to Raina's--Sand's--shadow, where there was was magic to do healing, the sort of healing he'd told Rhea could be done. Why were they doing this here? Did Flora have some magic to heal her? He wanted to grab Flora, ask her what she had planned, but she was busy, and the queen was dying, and he couldn't slow her down to make sure they were doing the best thing they could do. He felt utterly helpless as he watched Vialle's life seeping away. He had to trust that Flora knew what she was doing, like he'd just told Rhea. The Queen's ragged breathing became a gasp; pain waking her up, if only for a second. She settled back down once her too-frail form had been laid upon the table. Flora and the nurses went to work at removing the blade. "It's close to the heart, but hasn't damaged any major arteries. Yet." She turned her head to Random, "I believe you saved her life. Moving her would have been fatal." "The blade may be poisoned," [Cole] muttered to Flora. "Rinaldo seemed to come here just to murder Vialle. He would have wanted to make sure of it." Flora nodded to this, "Thank you, Cole. I shall take that into consideration." She gestured to her assistant, who injected something into Vaille's arm. They began to work in earnest, trying to seal the wound. It was slow going, and required several bags of plasma. "We may be at this awhile," Flora admitted to the group. "If you wish to rest elsewhere, please feel free." Not wanting to come between Random and Rhea, Cole turned to Gillian, looking her over. "How about you?" he asked. "Are you okay? You don't appear to be injured." She smiled weakly. "The mental scarring will have me in therapy for years. What I really want now is food and to be surrounded by mundane, common things." "Ha! Therapy!" Cole scoffed. "If we told them what we've been through, our therapists would need therapy. No, I think we need a month-long vacation somewhere on a tropical beach with live music and lots of booze. And food, I do agree about the food. Though I'd like to get cleaned up first." He pulled Gillian aside, continuing the conversation in a lower tone of voice. "This hanged man business," he asked her, "I'm not quite clear on that. Are you going to try to reproduce what Oberon did? Is this going to require someone to hang there and make themselves into a totem like he did?" A chill passed through Gillian. "No," she said flatly, managing to mostly believe that herself, if only by sheer force of will. "It won't come to that." Cole looked at her, his face very serious. "Okay. I hope you're right. I really do. But if you're not...." He swallowed. "Find me." She gazed back at him, then managed another weak smile. "I remember when I first met you, at Sid and Mury's. Do you remember? You brought in all the laundry for her to do?" Gillian pantomimed a pile taller than herself and swallowed back laughter. "You...you thought I was Mury. I was wearing my school uniform and you thought I was Mury, and you were wearing this very not-regulation shirt with orange and yellow flowers." Cole smiled. "Yeah, well, that was before I acquired this snazzy brown wardrobe," he replied, gesturing at Finndo's relatively drab, blood-stained clothing. "Which, though lacking the flamboyance I once preferred, is strangely starting to..." Nearby, Flora cursed. A commission followed and blood called for. Rhea joined them and a transfusion set up. The words, ‘…losing her…’ echoed through the infirmary like a death knell. Cole swore, frustration plain on his face. He whispered to Gillian, "Why are we doing this here? Surely there are places in shadow where there's magic that can heal her, or preserve her. Sand's sanctuary had these statues that healed us when we arrived. Can you reach her? Or Raina?" Gillian shook her skirts, flustered, as her thoughts when in several directions at once. Wasn't Flora doing all that could be done? Didn't Random know best, keeping Vialle here in Amber? What could she do that wouldn't just be getting in the way? She took a deep breath and forced all the scattered thoughts in her head to hush. "I can try Raina. I'm tired, though. Can you lend me some of your strength?" Gillian held her hand out to Cole. Cole gave her a quizzical look, not sure what she meant, but took her hand anyway. He put his other hand under her arm, expecting to help support her weight. She could sense his trust and support through the contact. Cole felt his strength bleeding out through his arm, as if he'd cut a vein in his wrist. Cole clenched his teeth stoically. If this was the level of effort Gilian normally required for her magic, his respect for her rose a notch. For both, the room wavered - going out of true for a moment. Something oily and warm writhed around their minds, worming deep into their thoughts. Raina's voice vibrated inside their skulls. <I was wondering when you might call upon me again. What do you require?> Dimly, both Cole and Gillian could 'see' the Great Road in the Valley of Garnath. Two armies of unnatural creatures - night wolves and automata - were about to meet. Perhaps collide. Cole willed words into the contact, too impatient to wait for Gillian. <Raina, Vialle is dying. That's bad enough, but if we lose her, I'm afraid we'll lose Random too, and we can't afford to be shorthanded against what's coming. She needs magical healing, immediately, like your statues provided us in your sanctuary. Can you help?> Gillian kept quiet and watched the exchange with interest. She was ready to boost the link if needed, but she was pretty sure that wouldn't be necessary. If anything, her concern was whether or not they could sever it. Raina frowned at this news. <The Queen is an honorable woman. Her death would be tragic.> She shook her head, <However, moving her to my Realm could do more harm than good. Vaille, although a Queen of Amber, remains tragically /human/. And thus, she is fragile. Otherwise, our Family would have moved her already. Her proximity to the Pattern will offer her some benefit. It changes those around it. <No, my sanctuary would likely be her doom.> She paused, "That said, I can lend you one of my chirurgeons. They all carry the Waters of the Moon with them. Will this be acceptable? Or would the Family consider it unwelcome?> <They're losing her, so they've forfeited the right to be choosy,> Gillian replied with conviction. <Please send one through.> Cole added his agreement. <I don't see how it could make things worse.> He focused his attention on the rather crowded infirmary. "Make a little room here, people. We're about to have another arrival." Rhea glanced up with tear-filled eyes. She smiled at him, as if he'd given her delicate hope. Raina smiled, reassuring. The contact wavered slightly as she engaged another person in conversation; silence hiding the discussion from Cole and Gillian. A moment later, a red-haired woman entered the contact - young, freckled, yet with eyes of someone much older. She wore a flowing robe that glimmered like steel in moonlight. <Bethany will serve you as she serves me,> Raina said. With a silvery flash, the woman was with them in the infirmary. She curtsied, but did not speak. Raina nodded, <Do you requiem anything else of me?> <No, but thank you,> Cole replied. Aloud, he said, "Bethany, thank you for coming. Go see if you can help Lady Flora over there, please." Bethany curtsied again and joined Flora. The Family were hesitant at first, but soon they allowed the to assist them in saving the fallen Queen. An accomplishment, considering the woman never spoke - not once. <I would like to discuss the impending apocalypse with you, especially the "avoiding it" part,> Gillian said, her mouth grim. <Can I come to you?> Cole briefly registered surprise, but it made sense to engage Raina in that effort while they were in contact. <I'll stay here,> he said. <Both of you, be careful.> Raina reached out. <Come to me. I believe you can help me here.> She smiled softly at Cole. <Go to your Love, Cole. She may seem strong, but she needs you. More than she believes.> Cole nodded. He was finding it difficult to split his attention between the connection and what was going on in the infirmary. <Thank you, Raina. I hope to see you again soon.> While Gillian still held his hand, he wrapped his other arm around her in a quick but firm hug. "You be good," he whispered in her ear, "and don't forget what I said. Find me if you need me." "Mmmm," she replied, and stepped through the contact to Raina. (Gillian continued in Return of the Queen) Rhea glanced up at Cole as he approached, reaching out for his hand. She appeared pale, having given more than her share of blood. Fiora busied herself with gingerly stitching closed the wound in Vaille's chest; the blood loss had been brought under control. She breathed a faint sigh of relief, and jerked a nod to Bethany. The Silent Maiden poured a small vial into the Queen's open mouth. Her body shook with a series of sharp coughs, but settled quickly. After an agonizingly long moment, the color began returning to her features, her breathe calming. Flora examined the wound and smiled, "I think we're through the dark. Whatever this young woman gave her works miracles." Random wiped the tears from his face, staring at Cole. "I owe you everything," he said, voice strained. "I don't know how you brought this woman here, but you worked a miracle." Rhea hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. Tiny sobs rumbled against him. |
