Echo Soul Seekers

not like Leftfoot has any interest in sparing my ego. He’s made it all too clear what he thinks of my pride.
    “How many times will I have to patch you up before there’s nothing left to patch?” He continues to mutter under his breath as he motions for Chay to help prop me up.
    I steel myself against the pain, but mostly I’m embarrassed for Daire to see me this way.
    “We need to remove your shirt,” Leftfoot commands. “Or what’s left of it, anyway. You were in such bad shape when they brought you in, all I could do was a quick patch job. I was afraid anything more would send you over the edge. But now that you’re on the mend, it’s time to put you back together again.” Responding to my hesitation, the furtive look I shoot Daire, he says, “She’s been here all along. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.”
    Daire flushes pink and looks the other way, as Leftfoot wads up a red bandanna he pulls from a drawer, shoves it toward me, and says, “Here—bite down on this. You’re gonna need it.”
    I turn my cheek in refusal. My gaze drifting from Chay, to Chepi, to the back of Daire’s head, before traveling back to Leftfoot again. Nothing more emasculating than a roomful of elders judging me in front of my girlfriend. The very least I can do is tough it out and reject the pacifier.
    “Your call,” Leftfoot says, never one to force me, despite how foolish he deems my behavior. “You’re lucky it’s only a dislocation and not a break. Breaks take longer to heal.” He places one hand on my shoulder, as the other grabs at my arm. Muttering one of his healing songs under his breath, he pushes with a great deal of strength, wrenching the joint back into place.
    The sudden jerk of bone meeting bone resulting in a pain so staggering, I force myself to focus on the niche full of santos on the other side of the room. Biting back the scream that crowds my throat, I fight like hell not to pass out.
    Not like this.
    Not in front of Daire.
    Though there’s nothing I can do about the constellation of stars that swirl bright and shining before me.
    “Funny, I don’t feel so lucky.” I grind the words between clenched teeth, as I fight to steady my breath and get a grip on myself.
    “And now … the wounds.” Leftfoot lifts the blood-caked key from my chest. Pausing to give it a thorough inspection, he shoots Daire a look of reproach, then goes about the business of removing the gauze and poultices that held me together like a mummy so he can better inspect my torn and ravaged flesh.
    The sight of my wounds causing Chepi to sob into her already soggy tissue, as Daire looks on with a face crowded with guilt-laced sympathy.
    It’s a look I can’t bear.
    A look that proves just how much I’ve failed her.
    “You’re lucky Chay found you when he did,” Leftfoot says.
    “How did you find us? How’d you know where to go?” I ask, unable to recall that particular detail.
    “Intuition.” Chay’s words are directed at me, though his eyes remain fixed on Leftfoot. “I was out riding when we had a small earthquake and I instinctively headed for the vortex, sensing it wasn’t the usual shifting of the earth. I’d only been there a few minutes when you two appeared.”
    “What were you doing down there?” Chepi asks.
    Daire and I exchange a look. I have no idea what she told them, so I bypass the question, and tell them about the mine instead. Explaining its connection to all those disappearances Leftfoot told me about.
    Glad for the chance to concentrate on something other than the sharp sting of potions Leftfoot uses to sterilize my wounds, before he gets to stitching them closed and mummifying me again in several layers of gauze and herbs.
    When he’s finished, he tosses me a clean shirt, tells me to get dressed, and damn if I don’t need his help. As if I wasn’t emasculated enough for one day.
    His words directed at Chepi, he says, “Take him home. In order to mend, he’s going to require serious bed rest.” Then turning his focus to Daire, he adds, “Chay can drop you off at Paloma’s. It’s time you two stay away from each other. For good this time. I guarantee you, next time you won’t be so lucky.”

 
    bleeding sky

 
    thirty-six
    Daire
    When I lose count of the number of times I’ve called Dace only to have Chepi pick up and refuse to put him on, I know it’s time for another approach.
    While she may have succeeded in confiscating his phone, while the elders may be