Talk To Dragons

With Violet's hands wrapped in cloth, Jack took the little witch to the resident doctor of West Lane. The home that the physician used for living as well as seeing the sick and injured was a little smaller than the personal living quarters of Jack. From the table where patients would sit, the personal bed of the doctor could be seen nearby where food was prepared.

"Let's get this wrapping off and see what the damage is," the doctor said.

The old man of medicine was named Fred. He looked like he had seen a lifetime of practice in his work but still his hands were as steady as an injured person would hope for. He was half the size of Jack and walked with a bit of a limp, but stood tall and had an air of health about him. Fred definitely didn't act as old as he appeared.

"And you say the giant rats of the forest did this to you?" Fred said. "My goodness. What in the blazes were you thinking, having this little girl out there with you, Jack?"

"I already told you, she's a witch who offered to deal with my job posting," Jack defended himself. "This is all her doing, not mine."

"Witch or not, have some sense, man."

With the bandages removed, Violet's bloody hands opened up to the air and she winced at the pain. Her little palms had been dug into good and her fingers were sliced open as well. Fred was astounded that she was taking it so well.

"I would probably be crying like a baby with injuries like that," Fred said.

"I'm no baby," Violet replied. "Can you fix them up?"

"I can sew the flesh shut and cover them in a temporary paste that will help the healing process," Fred answered. "But these are going to be around for a good while. You don't happen to know any healing spells, do you?"

"I'm not that kind of witch," Violet said with a smirk.

With a bit of cloth in her mouth and some time with alcohol in her stomach, Violet g.r.o.a.n.e.d and growled at the process. In and out the needle went, shutting the bloody openings of her hands. With such pain, she wondered how she had managed to deal with it back in the forest.

"You're a marvel of courage, Violet," Engel told her.

"Almost there," Fred assured her. "Last few passes."

When the final thread was set, Violet thought her torment was over, but she forgot the final step.

"The paste comes now," Fred said. "Brace yourself. It might be worse than the stitches."

With a little bowl and brush he applied the medicinal paste to help her wounds and the burning was intense. Violet screamed into the drool-drenched cloth in her mouth until it was over and then g.r.o.a.n.e.d at the lingering sting before it began to fade.

"Very well done, my dear," Fred told Violet. "I've made a grown man pass out with this stuff."

Violet breathed heavy and was completely limp as she lay on the examination bed.

"You probably should have let him knock you out, like he offered," Jack said.