Shadows Return

to shelter.”
    Handling the wounded men as carefully as they could manage, they slung them each over a saddle. They had some trouble with Sebrahn when they went to move Alec. The child clung to him and hissed at Micum when he tried to pull him away. In the end, Thero had to hold him back until Micum could get Alec on the horse, then lift the struggling, spitting child up onto the horse behind him. Once there, still gripping the battered cup in one hand, he clutched the back of Alec’s coat with the other.
    “It’s all right, little one,” Micum soothed, patting the child’s skinny leg. “You stay with him and we’ll be safe soon.”
    “I’m telling you, that’s no child,” Thero warned.
    “You heard what Seregil said. That’s enough for me.”
    They led the horses toward the camp Micum had set up, going slowly so as not to jostle their friends too much. Even so, halfway there the child began to whimper and squirm. Then Seregil began to moan and struggle weakly.
    Micum pressed a hand firmly between his shoulders. “We’re almost there. Just a little further.”
    Seregil’s face was turned away, but Micum heard him gasp out, “So—undignified!”
    “He’s bleeding again!” Thero pointed out. “It’s his leg.”
    Looking back, Micum saw bright red splashes in the dust. He halted the horse and walked around to the other side. Seregil’s left thigh was soaked. Feeling carefully, he found the wound, then took off his belt and tightened it above the wound. “We’d better hurry.”
    “Yes. Alec is bleeding a little from the mouth.”
    The child grew more and more frantic as they went on, until Micum finally had to pull him off and carry him. He weighed almost nothing, but struggled all the way, reaching out for Alec and crying out softly.
    At the tent, he scrabbled about underfoot until Micum and Thero had the wounded men settled on the bedrolls they’d brought. Seregil was unconscious, and Alec was in agony, coughing up bloody foam.
    Micum put the child aside as gently as he could, but he persisted, tugging Micum’s water skin from his shoulder. Squatting between Seregil and Alec, he filled his dented cup, then held out one little hand.
    “What is he doing?” wondered Micum.
    “Cut his finger,” Alec wheezed. “Now!”
    Despite his doubts, Micum did as he asked. As he and Thero watched, the child held his cut finger over the cup and something far too pale to be blood dripped into the water. There was a faint flash of light, and then a beautiful, dark blue flower appeared. Sebrahn scooped it out and put it on Seregil’s wound. It melted from sight, leaving a pleasant scent behind.
    Micum reached down and felt the wound. “It’s closed up again.”
    The child made another flower and placed it on Alec’s chest wound. Alec was still coughing blood, but he managed to get his breath long enough to gasp out, “That’s how—Flowers—heal.”
    They watched in awe as Sebrahn repeated the procedure several times and laid more flowers across Alec’s chest and Seregil’s leg.
    After a moment Seregil came around. “’lec!”
    Micum clasped his hand. “It’s all right. He’s right here beside you. You’re both safe.”
    Alec took Seregil’s other hand. “Told you. They found us.”
    Micum carefully undressed both of them and checked for more wounds. The one on the inside of Seregil’s thigh was closed, but the skin there looked fragile and thin. The arrow wounds on Alec’s chest and throat had healed more completely, but the breath still rattled a little in his throat and bloody foam seeped from the corner of his mouth.
    Micum covered them both warmly and drew Thero outside.
    “What do you think?”
    The wizard shook his head slowly, looking a bit dazed. “I don’t know what to think. I’ve never seen anything like that.”
    “But the child did heal them. He saved their lives.”
    “Yes.” Yet Thero looked less than pleased. “I suppose we’ll have to stay here until they’re stronger.”
    “And pray no one else comes looking for them.”
    “I can hide us. I’ll obscure this whole gully if need be.”
    “We should send word to Magyana and Korathan.”
    “I did, while you were away setting this up. She advised me not to contact the prince yet. She thinks it would be dangerous to bring that—” He pointed into the lean-to, where Sebrahn was still crouched over the sleeping men, cup clasped in his pale little hands. “To bring him to Skala until we know more about what