He awoke to pain shooting through his side as Eric set him down again.

“Easy does it,” the woman’s voice said.

“I’m trying,” Eric replied. “Can you help him?”

“I’m going to try,” she said. “I’m not going to lie; he’s hurt badly.”

“I wish I could have gotten to him sooner.” Regret tinged Eric’s voice.

“You did the best you could,” she told him. “We had to wait until it rained—now shoo, you need rest. I’ll keep an eye on him. What did you say his name was?”

“Illius,” Eric said.

“Illius,” she repeated.

Eric’s footsteps receded.

“Illius.” The woman gently touched his shoulder. He was aware of the contact, but his body couldn’t acknowledge it. “I’m going to try to heal you. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, could you squeeze my hand?”

Feeling her warm hand brush against his, he tried to give some kind of signal and felt one of his fingers twitch.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I know magic is probably the last thing you want near you right now, and I only want to do this with your consent. May I use magic to heal you?”

Everything hurt so bad. Every breath was torture. Anything this woman could do to ease his pain he would welcome. He tried once again to move his finger ever so slightly.

“Okay.” She squeezed his hand gently. “If at any time you want me to stop, try to move your finger again, okay?” She left one of her hands in his, and then he felt a soothing warmth poking through his body. This… This was nice. He slowly drifted off to sleep and let the warmth envelop him.

~

“How is he?” Eric’s voice said through his dreams.

“Shhhh!” the woman hissed. “He’s asleep.”

“Sorry,” Eric whispered. “But how is he?”

“Better,” the woman whispered back—Illius thought she sounded happy. “I used what I could—for now, I blocked some of the pain so his body will relax. He’s started to regenerate some magic, and his wounds are pulling back together.”

“Will he ever walk again?” Eric whispered. Illuis’ eyes fluttered open at that.

“Idiot.” The woman nudged Eric with her elbow.

He gave her a sheepish look, then looked down at Illius. “How you doing, man?”

Illius opened his mouth, but he couldn’t make his voice work. After a second, he just looked away.

“It’s okay.” The woman squeezed his arm. “You don’t need to say anything. Eric talks enough for everyone combined.”

Illius wanted to know about his legs, so he glanced at them, then back at Eric and the woman. She scanned his face. “What is it?”

He glanced at her red hair, now frizzy and untamed. She hadn’t introduced herself, so he dubbed her Curly. It was silly, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about much of anything at this point. Except for his legs—he wanted to know about his legs. He tried to move his finger to point, and it seemed surprisingly willing to respond. For a second, he stared at his hands, then he pointed his finger at his legs.

“Yes.” Curly nodded and smiled at him. “I think your legs will be fine. I think all of you will be fine eventually. Your body has been constantly drained of its soulforce for the past few weeks. That’s what those fucking researchers were doing to you.”

His eyes widened slightly at her language.

“Try not to scare him,” Eric butted in.

“Heart of gold, mouth of a motherfuckin’ sailor.” Curly shrugged. “Anyway, as your soulforce starts to regenerate, your legs will heal. I know you can’t tell me how you feel right now, but can you point to what hurts the most?”

For a moment, he mulled it over. He couldn’t feel his legs, really, so those didn’t hurt. His arms seemed okay and apparently worked a bit better. While his head felt foggy and his had eyes swollen, his chest… His chest still hurt every time he took a breath. So, he slowly brought his hand up to touch his chest.

Curly nodded. “Okay. That helps. Now, it’s important for you to know, you’re safe here. You can relax. No one is going to hurt you. No one knows you’re here except Eric and me. The only thing you need to do is rest and focus on getting better, okay?”

He moved his hand slightly to communicate with her, then shut his eyes again.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t go to sleep on me just yet,” she said. “I need you to drink some water, okay?”

He cracked his eyes open. For a second, he tried to sit up, but his neck got barely an inch off the pillow before it went crashing back down. Little knives of pain shot through his back, squeezing tears from his eyes.

“Easy there.” Curly took a glass of water from the nightstand beside Illius’ bed. She slipped a straw in it and maneuvered the glass until he could get the straw in his mouth. Cool water flooded into his mouth and out his lips before he could swallow. It spilled down his shirt, and he shivered, recalling the cold rain.

“It’s okay.” Curly mopped him up with a towel. “Slow—just take it slow. No rush.”

He tried again. How could drinking water be so hard? Why was living such torture? This time, he managed to swallow but instantly felt nauseous.

“If you need to throw up, it’s okay,” Curly said, dabbing his forehead with the towel. “But if you can keep the water down, that’s better.”

He resisted his urge to vomit and focused on slowly sipping the water, imagining the dragon fields of Skyiad and what they must be like. Dragons—the dragons weren’t afraid of him.

“There ya go.” Curly moved the water glass out of his reach. “Now, see if you can get some more rest.”

His eyes instantly closed.

“You sure he’s gonna be okay?” Eric asked again as Illius started to drift off.

“I’m sure,” she said softly. “Therians are nothing if not tough. He’ll be okay. I promise.”

Her voice… It was sweet and kind, and it gave him hope as darkness took him once again.