“My mother? My mother did this to her?” Corallyn asked. “She is Atargatis, our great new enemy?”
Sionna had finished cleaning and disinfecting Aazuria’s wound, and was administering a tetanus shot to her as a precautionary measure. “It would seem so.”
“I thought she was a land-dweller; I thought she was dead!”
“We thought so too.” Sionna began applying a poultice to Aazuria’s shoulder. She had also sustained a few injuries, but she had quickly stitched them up herself. “Coral, Elan, you girls have to watch Aazuria closely to monitor her temperature, alright?”
Elandria nodded silently in a corner, with her hands folded in her lap. She looked fearfully at Sionna and Aazuria’s wounds.
“It’s not a Jennifer or a Molly—it’s a Koraline,” Visola said gloomily, “and I let it get away.”
“I’m sorry, Viso. It was my fault,” Sionna said with a sigh as she bandaged Aazuria’s shoulder. “I should have handled myself better. You had her until I distracted you.”
“Are you kidding? You were in trouble. I’m not going to let my sister get killed if I can prevent it.”
“I like assault rifles,” Aazuria said weakly, her head spinning with pain. It was the most complex contribution she could manage to make to the conversation. Sionna smiled and patted the sweat off her forehead with a damp cloth.
“That’s right! Let’s look on the bright side of things,” Visola said. “We fought three against thirty and we won. When does that ever happen?”
“Four… if you count Trevain,” Aazuria said, grimacing. “He punched… Atargatis in the face for me. And he did not even know it was me.”
“I do not count him. He could have prevented you from having to follow him in the first place if he had listened to you. Then he could have prevented you from getting injured if he had killed the bitch—but he just pushed her away from you and thought it would help! Was he trying to break up two kids on the playground or save his potential fiancée’s life? What a jerkwad,” Visola muttered, earning a death glare from her sister. “Anyway, it was a good fight. We killed at least half of them, and wounded at least ten—and now we know who Atargatis is and why she’s pissed off. Frankly, I’d be pissed off too if someone took a cutie-pie like Coral away from me.”
“Thanks,” said Corallyn, a bit downcast. “I guess I would kind of like to meet my mother. She didn’t have to start a war about it. She could have just visited and said ‘Hi, I’m your mom. Would you like a cookie?’ Even if there wasn’t a cookie involved, I would have been okay with that.”
“She still has not been informed that the king is dead. Did you send someone, Visola?” Aazuria asked, through clenched teeth.
“I did send a representative out to look for the Clan of Zalcan… but she never came back.” Visola sighed. “I will try again… but it seems like a useless sacrifice. Diplomacy never works.”
“The ones who got away will tell the others not to take us so lightly,” Sionna said. “Atargatis has a black eye, and a few of the others have bullets lodged in them. Maybe things will be different, and they will be a bit more communicative. I think assault rifles have that effect on people.”
“Viso,” Aazuria whispered. “I can never repay you for the armor and weapons. I am alive because of you. Adlivun will remain safe because of you.”
“Aw, shucks, Zuri,” Visola said, bashfully yet proudly. “What’s a right-hand-woman for?”