Page 3 of The Demon God's Desire

I open it to find a missive from the king. It tells me to gather my men and set off, we’ve received our new orders.

2

BRIDGET

“And will you ever go wandering again?” I ask Ash, tilting my head to give him a stern look.

“No, Miss Bridget,” Ash says dutifully as I clean him up, careful not to agitate his wounds.

I can’t believe Ash wandered offagain. This time though, he was missing for a full twenty-four hours. No one could find him. He managed to find his way back but he was lucky.

It reminds me of how sick my mother got when we wandered the desert for a week after the rebellion. I know better than anyone how the desert and its creatures are all too happy to claim those who stray too far.

But at least Ash is home safe and sound now. And he’s not in terrible shape, unlike us. This is because he grew up here and he’s developed the necessary skills to survive. “I’m glad you’re alright but you could have been much, much worse,” I tell him. “You’re dehydrated,” I hand him a canteen of water, full to the brim and he starts drinking it.

“Slow down,” I tell him. “Sip it or you’ll make yourself sicker.” He’s also got a nasty sunburn from exposure on his arms, shoulders and face.

While he sips his water, I begin stripping the leaves from my zabilla plant and squeezing out the gooey, sticky inner juice. The plant is wonderful at relieving the pain and discomfort of sunburns and it can heal all manner of injuries. I have a dozen on the shelf in the healing hut and more in my little cob house.

I smear the sticky substance all over Ash’s shoulders, arms and face and at first he wriggles, annoyed at my ministrations but he relaxes as it starts to work its magic, cooling him instantly from the sting of the burn.

“Oh, that feels good,” he says with a sigh. I patch up the rest of his cuts and scrapes and give him some powdered fylvek and have him mix it in the water he’s drinking. It will help him feel better when his body starts to ache later.

“My baby!” Ash’s mother, Laura, rushes into the hut. His father Dean comes hot on her heels. “We’ve been so worried!”

Dean strokes a hand over the boy’s hair and shakes his head. “You can’t go wandering off like that bub,” he scolds softly. They both refrain from touching him too much after seeing his bandages and the burns all over his skin.

“He’ll recover nicely,” I tell them both. “He needs more water and lots of rest but he’ll be back to normal within three days.”

“Oh gods,” Laura says, gingerly hugging Ash. “You aren’t allowed out of daddy’s sight ever again,” she scolds him while kissing his head.

“Are you ready to go home?” Dean asks his son. Ash nods rapidly and Dean picks him up gently, letting him rest his head on his shoulder.

I watch with a sense of relief as the three of them leave. It’s always good to reunite a parent and child, especially with how hard things can be living out here in the harsh desert.

Watching them leave though, I’m hit with a wave of sadness as I think about how much I miss my own father. He would have been a leading figure in Camp Mythos if he could have made it here.

I can imagine it now. Father would be one of the leaders of the council, probably directing the charge to rescue little Ash himself.

He wouldn’t have stopped until he knew that the boy was safe and sound at home in his parents arms again. Mother would have been so proud of him. He was always a man of great principle, someone who put others ahead of himself.

I clean up the supplies and imagine what it would be like to have him here. He would be proud of me for becoming a healer. I’ve studied all the desert plants and their properties practically since I came here all those years ago and I’ve made a name for myself with my remedies.

I wish I’d known more when my mother was sick though. I could have saved her. I should have studied harder, asked more questions.

“Water for Miss Bridget!” I hear Allan’s voice ring through the hut and almost jump, startled out of my thoughts.

“Oh thank you Allan,” I tell him, turning around to face him. He grins and brings in two heavy buckets full of water for my cistern.

“You get Ash all fixed up, Miss Bridget?” Allan asks.

“Yep, he’s all patched up and sent off to rest with his parents.”

“You’re such a gentle touch,” he says. “Very relaxing. Maybe I ought to get injured so you can fix me up and cure my insomnia.”

I know he’s joking but I can sense the underlying attempt to flirt in his statement.

Allan is objectively handsome. He’s got wavy blonde hair, deep, tan skin and vivid green eyes. He’s also got a charming smile and an easy manner. He’d make a fine husband to any of the women in the camp.