Read The Singular Six (The Chronicles of Eridia) Page 12

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  The following morning all the non-mechanized and non-feline members of the group were groggy from lack of sleep. While Adam and Bob gruntingly worked on breakfast, Maggie shuffled about like a jelly-zombie and examined everyone’s wounds.

  Dagmar’s was still raw and grisly, but this time she didn’t make a sound when Maggie poured alcohol on it. She just stiffened, her jaw clenched, her nostrils flaring, her expression simultaneously angry and frightened, as if the anger was a way of keeping the fear in check. She didn’t talk at all, not even when Maggie asked her if she wanted any food. She just glared off at the trees in the direction of Happyvale.

  Everyone else was healing nicely. Maggie’s slashes had scabbed up overnight and required no further treatment. Likewise, the divots in Adam’s flesh had already grown crusty with scabs and begun to fill in.

  Maggie came last to Kukalukl. She had taken a quick look at his tattered upper lip last night but he had refused to let her treat it, saying only, “I heal quickly.”

  “Do you wish me to examine your wound?” she asked him now.

  “What wound?” he said.

  Although she had been looking right at him, she hadn’t realized till he spoke that his lip was completely healed.

  “Amazing,” she said.

  “We gods generally are.”

  She eyed him appraisively as he walked away. Till now she had regarded his claim of godhood with a great deal of skepticism. And while the fact that he healed ten times faster than Adam didn’t prove anything—in the years since the Cataclysm she had met or heard about any number of perfectly mortal beings with all manner of strange powers—it was one big step closer to confirming his assertion.

  After breakfast they resumed their trek. Since their backpacks were heavier from the added weight of the goods formerly carried by the mules, they traveled more slowly than before. Fortunately this leg of their journey was quiet and undemanding. They left the forest behind them an hour after setting out, and for the rest of the day the landscape was grassy and flat, the weather was mild and sunny, and they encountered no dangers. They didn’t even see many animals. Perhaps the creatures of Happyvale had eaten most of the fauna in these parts.

  Dagmar said virtually nothing all day. From her perch on Kukalukl’s back, she watched the passing scenery with a pinched, hostile look, as if expecting the trees and bushes to cause trouble. When Kukalukl asked her how she was, she just shrugged.

  They camped that night in a shady dell sheltered on every side by dark green ferns that were taller than Adam. After dinner Maggie re-dressed the various wounds, noting with satisfaction that no infections had set in and everyone seemed to be healing well. At least physically. Dagmar remained mute and vaguely hostile. Not even Kukalukl could draw her out.

  Everyone was too tired for chitchat that night, so they crawled into their sleeping bags, and when the moon rose, it was upon a camp wracked with snores.