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 in which rea trusts amadhay



Rea gave Amadhay a long look when the teenager dropped a woman on one of her empty tables.

A quick scan of the woman told her that there was a severely bleeding wound on the lower abdomen, a burn on her side, and if she wasn’t mistaken (and she never was) a majority of robotic, cybernetic parts to shield her from major harm. She was still bleeding out, but Rea couldn’t hear any breathing.

“You know I don’t deal with dead people,” she stated, which technically wasn’t true. She simply didn’t deal with Amadhay’s dead people. The state the younger girl tended to bring her targets in had proven to be too much for her stomach and so they went to her boss, Stasen. She gestured for Amadhay to deal with the body before turning back to the redhead sitting casually on another one of the five tables in her sickbay.

“She’s not dead,” Amadhay whined, moving as close to Rea as she ever dared without express permission. “She’s just a little stunned and bleeding a bit. I need you to fix her up so no one will ever know.”

That caught Rea’s attention from the redhead, who was much too focused on Amadhay and the cyborg. “You’re done here,” she told the woman before her.

“But my leg—”

“Is slightly burned. Put some salve on it. You can get that from Karmen at the front desk. Out.” The girl started to argue again, but her eyes shot to Amadhay, who Rea couldn’t see, but knew well enough to assume was making some sort of threatening gesture.

The redhead paled, looking from Amadhay to Rea and back. Rea raised one silver eyebrow and the girl hopped off of the table, wincing when she landed on the injured leg that was quite a bit more than a little burned. Rea mentally made note to call her back later to properly fix the burn. The salve would just give her a little time before the burn spread and infected the rest of her body. Eight zoots. She had eight zoots to fix her before that.

“Oh, and Daina,” Rea called before the girl could leave the room. “You shouldn’t tell anyone about this.”

The girl nodded enthusiastically, glancing at Amadhay. She physically flinched before rushing out.

Now that they were alone, Rea turned back to Amadhay. She noted that she could taste pain coming from the girl’s torso and didn’t say anything about it, instead, handing the girl her personalized salve. Amadhay gave her a thankful smile, lifting up her shirt to reveal a few bruises, a burn, and most importantly, a few of broken ribs that looked as though they had been stepped on. While Amadhay rubbed the salve on her, Rea allowed her magic to reach out and repair the damage the salve wouldn’t, namely the broken ribs and the fractures in the hand and wrist the girl was using the rub the salve on.

“Explain,” Rhea ordered, moving to closer examine the body on her table. She had been right. The body was covered in mech parts, except for right at the front, from her abdomen down to her belly button, and about the same spots on either side. The wound was bleeding less now that she was on the table, which was a definite plus to the technology upgrade the medical rooms had gained a month ago. The burn was bad, but obviously from a taser and while it would hurt, wouldn’t actually do lasting or spreading damage.

“I’m on a pretty big, kind of high-profile mission right now,” Amadhay began as she pulled her shirt back down, and moved to Rhea’s side. The irritated growl from the back of the dragon’s throat was to tell her that she was wasting time by blowing her own smoke, and the girl cleared her throat. “I have Lord Palnoki here. I have also rounded up his necromancer and this is his cyborg. They’re all supposed to be in good condition for some reason, but obviously, she isn't. So I’m begging you to fix her up and make her good as new so no one will know but us that I didn’t bring her in whole.”

Rea didn’t smile, but she did note that it was amusing how Amadhay avoided explaining so much as she gave more questions than answers. How had she rounded the Lord Palnoki up when agents of far more prestige, seniority, and ability had died trying? Why was she rounding up Palnoki members when they already had the Lord Palnoki? Surely he was enough. On whose orders was she doing all this and why was she doing it alone? After Madra, wasn’t she strictly on low-profile, partnered missions of little importance? Why, on Resor would they want the Palnokians in good health? The necromancer had been known to single-handedly kill an entire boat of top-tier slavers with only a single blade and no magic, all to save one little girl. The cyborg was practically the Lord Palnoki’s bodyguard. She had destroyed the last group sent to take him out before they had even been able to see him.

So why was Amadhay bringing them here? Why wasn’t she asking these questions? The girl was notoriously curious, so much so that Arne Riffle had regularly sent her here to be patched up when she was younger, before she learned to be silently and secretively curious. If nothing else, that was suspicious. Did she know more than she was telling? A long look at Amadhay, where the girl only shifted from side-to-side, looking nervous didn’t tell Rea anything other than she was nervous. Nervous about what?

Since Madra, there were a lot of accusations tossed at Amadhay. The one that Rea had always disbelieved the most was that the teenager was working for someone else to undermine the Phoegani. The people who said that hadn’t seen Amadhay’s body when she came back, hadn’t seen the way she had become less sure of herself or knew that she was in here more often in the recent weeks from attempting spells higher than her ability. No, Rea had been sure that Amadhay had been taken advantage of and bested by someone, or many someones, in Madra. But now, this strangeness was making her rethink that. She considered calling in Arne Riffle or Punishment to ask either man any number of those questions, but she didn’t.

She decided to trust Amadhay. After all, the girl was her friend.

Next Chapter

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November 2016

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