Caila woke with a start, gasping for breath. The room was dark, and it took her a moment to remember where she was. A tiny light was burning at the other side of the doorway to the wagon. There was no sign of Quarta in the wagon. Her work had been put away, from what Caila could tell in the dark.

Throwing back the blanket, Caila sat up and stretched, feeling stiff. She stood and opened the door to the wagon, taking the steps carefully in the dark. The light she’d seen was coming from a campfire that was lit not far off, nestled among the trees. Quarta, Tertia, the black-haired elf whose name Caila had forgotten, and the two blonde men were huddled around it.

“Well, hello, there,” Quarta smiled as Caila approached. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not really,” Caila replied sitting down beside her aunt. The rest of the group was in silent discussion, looking at each other pointedly. Caila got the feeling she had intruded on a conversation that wasn’t entirely verbal.

“Oh?” Quarta asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Bad dreams,” Caila explained. “Where’s the latrine?” She asked.

Tertia pointed to the trees. “A few feet up there,” she said.

“Thanks.” Caila stood and headed for it, glad to be able to relieve herself. When she was finished, she turned with a tired sigh back toward the campfire, shuddering at the thought of sitting through a conversation of her so-called magical prowess that didn’t exist.

Suddenly Caila heard a growling from behind her; rather, it was more like a rumbling from a large cat. She turned to see what kind of animal was making the noise.

Twin spots of red glared back at her in the dark, and a row of yellow teeth was revealed. A wicked grin was spread across the creature’s mouth. Caila couldn’t tell what it was; the rest of it was in shadow. But a set of gleaming yellow-white claws was visible right at her feet.

Caila screamed, and turned to run. She felt herself flying suddenly, a desensitisation of feeling shooting through her, until she crashed into a tree. She groaned and cried out, coughing up blood. A searing pain shot through her right leg suddenly and without warning, and through closed lids she cried and screamed as loud and long as she could, begging for help.

There was the sound of a struggle, and a blood-curdling shriek. Caila felt like her insides were melting. Her eyes were closed, and she couldn’t see anything, but through the roaring in her ears, she could hear shouts and roaring.

“Get Caila!” Someone was screaming.

“I think I hit it!” Another, male voice cried.

There was some more human-sounding voices, and then one right in her ear, husky and concerned.

“Caila? Caila!” It called, but she couldn’t understand. She coughed again.

“Please,” she whispered through the pain, and vaguely felt someone touching her left arm. But it wasn’t her left arm that hurt... numb; everything was numb, and Caila welcomed the dark as it followed her.

Voices called from beyond the darkness, whispering her name.

Caila, they said. We need you, Caila. Come to us.

“I can’t,” she tried to reply, but her lips wouldn’t move.

“Is she dead?” a fainter, harsher voice asked.

A muffled reply, and then, “We have done all we could. Now it’s up to her.”

“We need to get her to the city as soon as possible,” the first voice again, in earnest.

What city? Caila thought. I want to go home. Where is my father? Where is he? I want to go home!

Help us, Caila, the voices begged, fainter than before, but still strong. Find us, and help us. You’re our only hope...

-

There was pain, everywhere. Caila didn’t know if she was dead or alive, but she figured since there was so much pain, she must be alive. Everything felt like it was on fire, especially her right leg... no, wait, her left. Wait, yes, it was definitely her right. Everything was backwards and confused.

She groaned, and her herself, just barely, through the cotton that seemed to be stuffed between her ears.

“Caila?” A voice whispered in her ear. It was so lovely, just like what she’d imagined her mother’s voice to be like.

“Mother?” She whispered, barely managing the word before everything in her body constricted in pain, and she cried out, managing to stifle the worst of the cry.

“No, it’s Quarta,” the voice replied, and things started to come back to Caila; the wagon and talking to Quarta about her mother. Her mother was an artist and Quarta... Quarta did jewellery.

“Quarta?” Caila breathed, barely daring that because of the pain. She didn’t open her eyes; she could feel the blinding light with them closed, and she didn’t think she’d be able to stand it with her eyes open.

“Yes, it’s me,” came the reply. “Thank the Goddess you’re alive. We’d thought you were dead, or very nearly there.”

And more memories started to filter through... the long sleep, with the bad dreams, and the voices calling to her... waking up, and finding everything dark, going out to the campfire, then the forest, and... the eyes! The ruby red eyes and the yellow teeth, and oh, the pain! The pain of being thrown into a tree, and the trickles of blood down her leg – wait. That was real, and in the here and now. Caila felt the blood on her leg.

“Everything hurts,” she coughed, and then regretted it.

“Lie still,” Quarta ordered. “I’ve asked Prima to come heal you, but so far she has yet to make an appearance. I would have asked the Queen, but she’s much harder to get a hold of, though I know she wants to meet you.”

“I don’t understand,” Caila whispered, breathy.

“You’re in the palace,” Quarta explained. “You’ve been unconscious for days. Hence, why we thought you were dead. But luckily Vonek has extensive medical training. He was able to keep you alive until we got here.”

“Vonek?” The black-haired elf, Caila remembered, slowly opening her eyes to find that the light wasn’t nearly as bright as she’d thought.

“Yes, he was the one who actually hit the beast,” Quarta explained. “Do you remember?”

“I remember,” Caila began, thinking back, “that there was darkness, and two red eyes, and then I was flying, and there was so much pain, and I remember feeling sticky with blood.” She stopped then, to hold her side, and cough.

“Careful,” Quarta warned, “you need to save your strength.”

Caila turned her gaze to her aunt. “What happened?” She asked.

“You went to the latrine, and a minute or two later, we heard you scream,” Quarta explained. “For a moment, we couldn’t find you, but the then we saw the creature attack you as you lay against the tree, and Vonek, like a true warrior, attacked the beast. We couldn’t quite see what it was; it was so dark. But Vonek drew dark, black blood, and the creature roared. It seemed to realize that the group was bigger than it had at first thought, and it ran off. We would have followed, if it weren’t for the fact that we knew it was suicide, and you were injured. We thought you were dead.”

“Why me?” Caila asked, feeling a little stronger.

“We don’t know,” Quarta replied. “There must be some connection between you and the rest of the victims. We’re just thankful that you’re alive and well. We were all so worried.” A moment of silence passed. “Where is Prima?” Quarta demanded under her breath.

“You once said that Prima felt threatened by my mother, right?” Caila asked.

“Yes, that’s right,” Quarta replied, sounding a little distracted, looking earnestly at the door.

“Well, don’t you think that maybe Prima isn’t coming at all?” Caila suggested.

Quarta turned to her niece. “What do you mean, not coming?” She asked.

“If Prima was feeling threatened by my mother, logic would dictate that she might feel the same about me, as my mother’s daughter. And if that’s true, maybe she doesn’t want me to heal.”

Quarta’s expression darkened. “If that’s true,” she said, “the Prima would give up her birthright anyways.”

“It would be a stupid move, either way,” a new voice said, fuller than Quarta’s. Caila raised her head a little, to see a woman who looked a lot like Tertia and Quarta standing in the doorway. Her features were even more angular than Tertia’s, and she had had features much more angular than Quarta, and her full, pink lips were curved into an ironic smile. Her brown hair fell in waves down to the middle of her back, and little flowers were woven into the strands. She had pale green eyes, and skin like porcelain. She was all arms and legs, and though she was beautiful, Caila was used to associating beauty with curves, of which she had few.

Prima strode into the room with the air of authority. She came to sit beside Caila’s bed, taking Quarta’s place. “So,” she said, “you think that I want you dead.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I was simply making the logical conclusion, based on the information I had been given. If my assumption was incorrect, I apologize.”

Caila winced as Prima touched her cheek momentarily. “You look just like her,” she said, “though she had red-brown hair, like the bark of the rowan tree, and her ears were pointed, like the rest of us.” She touched the tip of Caila’s right ear briefly.

There was a moment of silence, and Caila had a mental image flash through her mind of a woman with long red-brown hair, jewelled jade eyes, and long, angular features, softened around the edges when she smiled. Her pale, cream skin was smooth and unblemished, and her fingers were long and narrow. She had more curves than Secunda, but less than Tertia. Her face was beautiful, and as she smiled, she put a finger to rest against her pale, rosebud lips, and winked, as though she were telling a secret.

“She was so beautiful, and we all miss her,” Prima said, and without being told, Caila knew that the woman she had seen was her mother.

Caila closed her eyes as grief for this unknown person washed through her. She wished so badly that she could have known her mother, been able to talk to her, see her face for herself. When Caila opened her eyes, Prima was looking at her. “I’m going to heal your leg now,” she said. “As well as your ribs – you have three broken ones. Also, your right side has been deeply cut and slashed, and your right arm was broken. This will pinch a little, and it also might hurt in some places. However, at the end, you should be right as rain, as the saying goes.”

Caila nodded and closed her eyes again briefly before watching as Prima went to work. The elven woman rested her fingertips on Caila’s bandaged leg for a brief moment before removing the strips of cloth that had been bound around her leg to reveal the nasty wound beneath. It was straight-edged, as though made by a knife, and it ran from above her hip, all the way down her leg. Her leg also was bruised around the calf area, revealing the fact that it had been broken, and reset. The purplish-red bruise was nasty, and there were a few stray cuts around it that looked like they were getting infected. The large wound itself was an angry red, as though flames licked its sides, and there were scabbed edges around it, black and charred. Some of the skin looked like it had bubbled, as though melted.

“We had to cauterize the wound,” Quarta explained briefly as Caila watched Prima slide her elegant fingers over the wound. As Prima moved her fingers, new, fresh skin folded over the old wound, and she saw the bruise on her leg fade. “We wouldn’t have been able to get you here alive without doing that.”

“You burned my leg?” Caila asked, looking up at Quarta.

“It was the right thing to do, under the circumstance.” She sounded regretful, as though she had thought otherwise before.

A moment later, Caila looked up to find that her leg was completely healed. Next, Prima lifted Caila’s tunic up – it was only then Caila realized that her clothes had been changed while she slept – and began to mend her ribs. Caila closed her eyes and tried not to cry out. The ribs hurt the most.

After about a half an hour, Prima straightened and stood up. “That should do it,” she said.

Caila finally had a chance to sit up, now that the pain was gone and she could see the fresh skin covering herself where her wounds had once been. Her right arm was again good as new, and her gash all the way down her side, and her leg, was healed. Her ribs didn’t hurt anymore.

Prima strode to the door without another word. But before she left, she turned back to Caila briefly. “Get dressed; Quarta will help you find something,” she ordered. “The Queen wishes to see you as soon as possible.”

AN: R&R, please! CC is welcome, flames are not. :)