The Goldcoat den sprawled through several connected caverns. Instead of all the huts being in one defensible location, while others were used for storage, cooking, and other necessities, huts were scattered everywhere. Even in the first level of the Deep, kobolds didn’t feel the need to huddle together, hiding from the things in the dark, but were instead free to move closer to the huts of friends and family, or be nearer to the things they needed for work, which created small neighborhoods where puppies ran free. There would be a den mother, or perhaps two, but instead of being constantly wary, she could let the pups play unless they started to leave the protection of the den.
It was all oddly nostalgic, and Kaz could feel himself relaxing into it as they walked. It wasn’t the den he grew up in, but it was very similar, and that den had been the first and last place where he felt truly safe. Li hadn’t spent much time examining the fuzzy memories of his early life, but now he felt her turning them over, pulling up images of Ghazt, Rega, Katri, and playmates whose names he no longer remembered.
When the healer, Jul, came to an abrupt stop in front of one of the larger huts, Kaz nearly tripped over the kobold in front of him. He blinked, coming back to the present as the orange kobold spoke.
“Anyone who’s injured goes inside. I want everyone else to eat and rest, and I’ll check you over as I have time.” The growled words were brusque but not unkind, and the warrior carrying the injured male pushed into the hut, then reappeared a moment later without his burden.
Kaz hesitated, and the healer looked at him, then Ratre. “Bring him in, too,” he commanded, pushing the door open. “He’s got some blisters and scabs on that stump, and they may fester if left untreated.”
Kaz glanced at Lianhua, who stared back expectantly. “Go ahead,” Kaz said, sounding uncertain even to himself. “I’ll be fine.”
Lianhua paused, then said, “I’ll send Raff back to get you once we know where we’ll be. You’re sure you’ll be all right alone?”
Li hissed at this question, and Kaz chuckled, relaxing again. “I’m never alone,” he assured Lianhua, and ducked inside the hut.
To his surprise, there was a small brazier of firemoss oil burning inside, and over it hung a well-crafted iron cauldron, its contents gently steaming. There were three beds made of a mixture of jejing and other mosses nearby, and the injured kobold, a youngish male with dark brown fur, lay on the nearest one. The air was filled with the smell of jejing and… Kaz sniffed deeply, trying to tease out the subtler scents beneath the powerful odor of the purifying moss.
The door clacked behind him, and the healer bustled past, heading directly for his patient. Crouching beside the bed, he peeled up the panting male’s lip, eyeing the color of his gums and tongue critically.
“Lay that one down on one of the other beds, then you can go join the rest of your group,” he said absently, turning to a large, flat stone that was serving as a table. Several small pouches and bowls sat on it, each meticulously marked with a rune painted on it somewhere.
Kaz did as he was told, crouching to let Ratre down. The gray male nearly fell into the bed, completely unable to put any weight on the bone peg that was strapped to his stump. Seeing that Jul was occupied with the sicker male, Kaz turned to help Ratre remove the peg. He winced as he realized that the straps were digging into angry, swollen flesh, which was the only reason the ill-fitting thing hadn’t fallen off while Kaz was carrying him.
“I’ve got it, pup,” Ratre protested, trying to pull his leg away from Kaz, but Kaz held on, and gently tugged at the knots holding the thing together until it fell away, pulling a few scabs with it, which caused the stump to begin to bleed.
Ratre didn’t let out a whimper, as Kaz would have in the same situation, but his body was tense against the pain, and his ears were flat as he stared at where his right paw should be. Kaz let a bit of black ki flow out into the injured limb, knowing that the cool feeling of it would soothe the swelling and hopefully ease the pain. He would have given the other male some blue ki as well, but his cycle still hadn’t evened out after the arch above had stolen so much. Blue was the most difficult for him to replace, and until he did, he would feel out of balance.
Gently, Kaz probed the flesh of the leg, wincing as he felt the bone just beneath the scarred skin at the bottom. Whatever had caused Ratre to lose the paw, the cut had been smooth, leaving behind a flat section that at least lent itself well to the replacement the older male had made for himself. Still, there was no cushion there, and the skin was blistered and oozing in places where it had been rubbed raw.
Shaking his head, Kaz sat back, then glanced at the steaming pot, then the table covered in what he hoped were medicines. Pointing at the pot, he asked, “Is this only for breathing, or can it be used directly on wounds?”
Jul looked up, expression going from irritated to thoughtful when he saw the way Kaz was holding Ratre’s stump. “It’s for cleaning wounds,” he admitted, then tilted his head toward the stone table. “Fill two of the copper bowls, and bring one to me, along with some zhiwu web.”
He watched Kaz closely as the younger male used the ladle in the pot to remove two scoops of the green liquid, careful not to overfill the bowls he found half-hidden among the pouches. Kaz placed one of these next to the healer, and the other beside Ratre, so the liquid could cool while he tried to find the webs.
It only took three pouches before Kaz found the right one, and then he took a moment to memorize the rune on it before taking it to the Goldcoat healer. Jul accepted it, then said abruptly, “Why those three?”
Kaz tilted his head. “Which three?”
The healer huffed impatiently, tugging a handful of webs from the pouch and putting them in the bowl of liquid beside him. The webs immediately soaked up the fluid, swelling and turning a deep, emerald green. He passed the pouch back to Kaz and said, “The three pouches you looked inside. Why did you choose those particular ones to check? Now do the same for the other one.”
Kaz did so, Li scampering down to sit on the stone floor, watching closely as she tried to decide if the contents of the bowl looked tasty or not. Kaz tugged a small tuft from the damp bundle and gave it to her, and she held it in her paws as she took a dainty nibble, then immediately spat it out again, looking disgusted.
Ratre and Kaz exchanged a little grin at the dragon’s obvious distaste, and then Kaz watched the healer as the orange-furred male poured the last of the liquid into the wounds he’d now cleaned of pus and packed with jejing. That done, the healer began wrapping webs around the injury, and Kaz mimicked his actions, pouring the liquid onto Ratre’s stump, then rubbing away the old skin and dirt with a clump of jejing, followed by wrapping the limb with wet webs. As he did, Ratre at first tensed, then relaxed, looking greatly relieved.
“There’s mamu in that, among other things,” Jul said, sitting back. “Numbs the pain much more than just applying the lichen directly to a wound. Now, answer my question.”
Kaz scratched his muzzle, feeling awkward. “My aunt was our tribe’s healer. She let me help her sometimes. She taught me that if you pack the webs too tightly during storage, they get stuck together, and won’t work as well when you need them. Only a few pouches were large and light enough to hold very much web without crushing it.”
The healer’s eyes narrowed. “One healer for the whole tribe? Not one for the males, and one for the females?”
Kaz nodded, ears lowering. It was strange enough that Rega had treated everyone, not just the females, but to have had no assistant better than a male pup was shameful. Though… He looked around. This healer seemed to have no assistant either, so perhaps it wasn’t as strange as he’d thought.
As if he’d read Kaz’s mind, the other male said, “Loor is with Tezne’s group. I’m too old to go wandering after monsters, and he’s almost fully trained. Soon, he’ll be on his own, and I’ll have to start training a new puppy.”
The look of thoughtful interest in his brown eyes made it clear what he was thinking, and for a moment, Kaz was torn. If this healer offered to take him in, train him, he would become one of the most respected males in the tribe, plus he would be able to help other injured kobolds on a daily basis.
Kaz looked down as Li placed a paw on his knee, staring up at him with sparkling golden eyes, and he smiled. If he stayed, he wouldn’t be able to go with Li to find her family. He also wouldn’t be free to make his own decisions, instead allowing himself to become trapped by the iron-clad grip of tradition in exchange for the comfort of being surrounded by his own kind. Besides, he was letting his imagination run far too wild, based only on a short conversation and the look in the healer’s eyes.
“My old knees don’t like getting up and down so often. Get me the pouch with the blue-green symbol shaped with a square with a slash through it,” the healer said, and Kaz scooped Li up, then crossed to the small table.
There were two pouches that partially matched the given description, but when Kaz sniffed one, it smelled distinctly sharp and acidic. The other was musty, but not unpleasant, and Kaz thought it smelled familiar, so he held it up.
“This one?” he asked, and the healer nodded, looking pleased as he held out his hand.
“Give it here, then,” Jul said, the commanding tone at odds with the keen look he gave Kaz, and Kaz did so. Pouring a small pile of bright blue-green powder out into his palm, the healer said, “Do you know what this is?”
Kaz nodded. He hadn’t noticed when it was in the bag, but the stuff gave off a very faint glow of diffuse blue ki, which drifted into mana and dispersed almost as quickly as it appeared. He recognized the powder, though of course he had never known that the stuff held ki.
“Re- My aunt called it qingmai. It sometimes grows on old meat, especially zhiwu.” It was difficult to get zhiwu meat, since killing one enraged the entire hive, but sometimes one would die from some other cause, and the Broken Knives, warriors and gatherers alike, knew that any such dead zhiwu were to be brought directly to Rega, in hopes of growing some of this mold. Unfortunately, after the mid-levels, it had become harder and harder to find zhiwu, and even rarer that the qingmai would grow, so Rega had cherished every bit she had.
“What is it used for?” Jul prodded.
Kaz closed his eyes, remembering his aunt’s quiet voice as she fed an injured puppy - Kaz’s friend, Lis - the last of her precious qingmai. “If ingested every day for at least a week, it can prevent infections, or even kill ones that have already started. Even if the patient seems to be fully recovered, they must take it for the full period, or the sickness may return.”
“Hmm. That’s right. Your aunt must have been well trained. Qingmai grows best in the Deep, so not many even in the mid-levels know how to use it correctly. Especially the bit about using it even if the patient seems well. Many healers ignore that, trying to use as little as possible on each kobold, and then claim it doesn’t work at all when they sicken again.”
Kaz nodded. Rega had mentioned that as well, cautioning him not to fall into the trap of trying to be too conservative, and losing a patient as a result. Looking back, he could see that she had been trying to train him as her replacement, at least as well as she could before he was an adult. Puppies were gatherers, though males received some training in fighting, while females were taught rudimentary skills using their power. Otherwise, any further education was supposed to wait until they had returned from their spirit hunt, so the time and effort wasn’t wasted if they died or proved themselves unworthy.
A soft knock came at the door, and they all turned to look as Raff called, “Oi! Blue! Lianhua’s startin’ to get antsy. You good in there?”
Kaz’s tail wagged slightly. He wasn’t sure what ‘antsy’ meant, though he could guess, but it was good to hear Raff sounding like himself after the last day of uncharacteristic silence and deference.
“I’m fine,” he said, not bothering to raise his voice. He stood, then bowed deeply to the healer. Looking at Ratre, he said, “I’ll check on you in a bit. Um, may I borrow this?”
Kaz held up the dirty, blood-streaked piece of bone that Ratre had been using as a replacement paw, and the gray-furred male opened his mouth, clearly ready to object. Kaz hurried on before he could. “I have an idea how to improve it, but I need to look at this one first. I won’t hurt it, and I’ll bring it back in a while. You can’t walk on that anyway.”
The healer snorted. “He shouldn’t have been trying to in the first place. There’s a reason kobolds who lose a paw stay in the den and use a long bone for support. Things like that are unreliable, and cause more damage than they’re worth.”
Ratre gritted his teeth, looking away from the orange-furred male. “The only bones I had access to came from kobolds, and I couldn’t fight a hoyi with one hand holding a bone, even if I could find one long and strong enough to support me. This kept me alive, while others died.”
Rolling his head so he could look at Kaz, he said, “Take it, but bring it back. It’s all I have left of my friend.”
The chunk of filthy, chipped bone suddenly felt much heavier in Kaz’s hand, and he bowed again, a little deeper. “I will.”
