The Island With No Parallel

Wounds

Manuel and the two Naiads stepped back into the city of Seville, Spain, surrounded by the old familiar Spanish buildings he’d always known, the carriage there waiting for them. The streets were still wet with the rain from earlier, though now the sun had come out in its fullness. Here, the streets of Seville didn’t know the dangers in Caorfi, or the chaos happening on the other side. Everything continued as normal, people walking around completely oblivious.

Manuel's arm burned with pain from his cut. The left side of his white shirt was red with blood from his shoulder. But all he could think about everything that happened within a few hours.

Kailu’s father had heard stories of his mother. It was becoming apparent that his mother was a very significant figure, perhaps even with his father, but what did this have to do with their deaths? How did it happen, and what did it have to do with Francis Stretton? What did he want from them?

Manuel sighed in frustration. It looked like he was going to get the answers he was looking for on Caorfi. But he felt at the moment he was going in circles. He had nothing to do with Caorfi, or Ecencia, or anything. All he wanted was answers.

“Manuel, I’m talking to you! What should we do from here?” Yunara was saying.

Manuel hadn’t noticed she was talking. “¿Que? What were you saying?”

“Where should we go? We need a place to stay for the time being. I think we should stay at an inn to help your injury heal.”

He had almost forgotten about his shoulder. His mind was too focused on his own problems. But he realized she was right. He didn’t know where Lorenn was going to instruct them to go next to reach the next Chosen person, but they would need rest before going anywhere.

So Yunara and Kailu climbed in the carriage and Manuel drove the horse to the closest inn. He paid for two rooms. One for Kailu and Yunara and the other for himself, to respect their privacy as women. They decided that they would consult Lorenn on their next steps in the morning.

The inn was above a bar. The owner of the inn showed them where the stairs were that led to the rooms, and they went up.

It was only evening, but Manuel was already tired. His mind was a confused mess of thoughts, and his shoulder was really starting to burn. “I’m going to bed now,” Manuel said. “Goodnight.”

Yunara said, “Are you going to wrap that?” she asked, pointing to his wound.

“I’ll do it myself, I’m fine,” he said bitterly. He opened the door and moved to pass through, but wasn’t looking where he was going. His shoulder bumped against the frame of the door, and pain erupted in his shoulder, a curse word leaving his lips. It felt like a new knife was wedging itself in his arm.

“Still planning on wrapping it yourself?” Kailu said sarcastically.

“Fine,” he growled through the pain. He went into his room and sat on his bed, Yunara pulling up a chair next to him.

“Take off your shirt,” she told him.

Manuel unbuttoned his shirt and gingerly started removing the well-stained material from his chest. Kailu came in and sucked through her teeth. “Doesn’t look too good to me.”

Manuel hadn’t seen the cut with his shirt off. Around the cut the skin was red and slightly swollen skin that was warm to the touch.

“I agree,” Yunara said as she looked closer at the cut. She placed her hand on his shoulder where it wasn’t affected, a smooth and soft touch, Manuel noted. “It looks infected.”

“Infected?” Manuel asked, jerking his shoulder back.

“Will you be still? I know how to treat wounds. The swords the Dark Ones wielded were filthy. It doesn’t surprise me a cut left you with an infection. Kailu, will you get me a bucket of water and some alcohol from the bar? And when you come back, go into the town right quick to buy some garlic or onions. And honey, if you can find it.”