Season of Sacrifice (Blood of Azure Book 1) by Jonathan Michael (ereader that reads to you txt) 📗

I kneel beside her. “You had me trembling,” I confess. “You were dying. I thought Helios was dead, and I had no idea whether those men would return for us. And even now, you remain a concern with your lofty claims that mother healed the lacerations on your leg.”

“If not mother, then who? The Lost Soul that strung me up like a piece of meat?” Jaymes calls out, obviously offended. “I didn’t just manifest them, you know. My leg was covered in blood from the rune grass, and now all those lacerations are gone. And you said it yourself, you never saw them. So that means they were healed before you found me.”

“It was dark. Regardless, that part of your leg is healed and not the issue.” I gesture for her to raise her tunic enough for me to access the bandages. “We need to focus on this major laceration that threatens your life.”

“Whatever!” she sulks.

“Hmm…”

“What?” Jaymes exaggerates her irritation, and immaturity. Then follows it with a coughing fit that sends me into retreat.

“It’s not getting any better. I don’t understand. Your bandages will need to be changed this morning with all the mucus that secretes from it. I just don’t understand why all my attempts to heal it have failed. The pain I feel is real. I don’t know what I’m missing.” I give a deep sigh and slump backward onto my rear.

“So, how’d you do it?” Jaymes asks as she sluggishly itches at her bandages. “You continue to sidestep the question. How’d you get us out of there?”

“It’s only going to get worse if you do that.” I seize her wrist.

“Yes, Father.”

One of her typical flippant remarks. I don’t mind though. That’s how I know she knows I care. As long as she continues to do it, we’re in a good place.

“So, how’d you do it?” she repeats.

“Well…” I pause to recall the fear, disgust, cowardice, and all the other emotions overwhelming me at the time. “…it was clumsy luck. That’s all. I wrote Helios off as dead. And Goose screeched like a dying pig when I woke him by pinching the flub on the back of his arm…”

“Hold on! Hold on!” Goose steps into the room, his face disgruntled. Helios strolls in after him. “A pig? Really? Now you know he’s lying, Jay.” He massages the back of his arm and jiggles it to see if it shakes. It doesn’t. “Don’t believe him. It was more of a roaring lion the way I remember it—”

“Yeah, not important. Anyways—”

“Well, this dying pig brought down a bigger Cryptid than what you and Helios couldn’t kill together. How about that for a dying pig?”

Jaymes chuckles and coughs again. “So, what was it? That killed the other Lost Soul?” She pulls her hand away from her mouth and reveals a spot of blood in her palm.

“Are you okay, Jay? Maybe you should rest.” I place my hand on her forehead.

“I’m fine.” She pushes my hand away and scratches at her bandage again.

“No. I think you need to get some rest. And stop picking at your open wounds! It’s itchy because it’s trying to mend itself. You poking at it isn’t going to speed up the process. Get some rest.”

“But you didn’t finish the story. Who killed the Lost Soul? How’d Helios get back home?”

“I’ll tell you later. You’re coughing up blood, for goodness sake. The story can wait.”

Her thin eyebrows point down toward her nose. “C’mon, Stone…” she begs while settling in.

“I don’t really know, to be honest. Whoever killed that beast disappeared. I was certain Helios was dead, but he caught up with us just as we were at our end. Both of us were fatigued beyond comprehension. You better cherish that cat more than you already do because he is the only reason you’re here now. And this isn’t the first time he’s saved our lives.”

“We’ve all got thanks for this pretty kitty, don’t we?” Goose adds, ruffling Helios behind the ears and under his chin. “And with as many brushes past death as he’s had, maybe he’ll outlive us all.”

A soft upward curl forms on Jay’s lips, and she closes her eyes. I can’t help but stare and ponder. What would my life be without her? She’s all I have left. I need to learn more about healing. To allow something as simple as a laceration to turn fatal is preventable.

Several more days pass, and due to her restless and ambitious personality, she’s tried to escape the confines of her warm and comfortable cell on multiple occasions. Her disregard of her own health has surely set back the healing process. I fear it’s infected. Portions of the lacerations have opened back up and continue to secrete an odd green mucus, proving she needs to remain immobile.

Unfortunately, her immature personality allows her to only believe she knows best. She hasn’t been able to get far from her bed, thankfully. Her condition limits her to a sloth’s pace combined with a newborn giraffe’s clumsiness. It’s not working well for her, but she refuses to give up. I admire her aspiration. And because of it, Goose and I have been trading off charge of her. One of us is by her side at all times to prevent her from doing any more damage to herself. She is a fighter, but she needs to grow up and learn her limitations or she’ll eventually get herself into a severe or fatal predicament I cannot rescue her from.

I’ve imposed a healing routine twice a day now but with little to no effect. With each attempt, I go through all the basics I remember from my short time at the Academy. As an amateur, I focus on a small portion of the damaged