Jim Butcher - Captain's Fury

"What's the problem?" Demos asked. "They've started combing the docks and searching ships. We don't have much time."

"Already?" Isana asked. "That was fast."

"They start with the places someone might use to leave town in a hurry," Demos said.

"We should leave," Araris murmured. "Set sail right now."

"Ships have been ordered to remain at dock," Demos said.

"Then we should have left last night."

"Which would have told them exactly where to look for the prisoner," Demos said. "No. We stay in dock until they clear us, then when we leave, we aren't looking astern the whole trip." He turned to Isana. "Now what's the problem?"

Isana gestured at Varg. The Cane was far too large to fit into any of the healing tubs on the Slive , so instead he lay in the shallow pool in the hold where the witchmen usually stood their station. "It's the Cane. He's badly hurt, and he won't let anyone touch him. He nearly took my hand off when I tried to heal him."

"He's got to be moved," Demos said. "We have fifteen minutes, give or take."

"He isn't going to let us move him," Isana said. "And if he starts thrashing around, it could kill him."

"If he isn't moved," Demos said, "it could kill all of us." He touched the hilt of his sword. "One way or the other, he's in the river in fifteen minutes." The captain went back up on deck.

Isana exchanged a long look with Araris. Then she said, "Get him."

"Are you sure?" Araris asked. "He still looks like he's in bad shape."

"He is," Isana said. "He'd want you to do it."

Araris grimaced, then departed. He returned a moment later, half-carrying Tavi. The young man nearly fell coming down the stepladder, and he had to lean on Araris to walk the short distance to the pool. Isana's heart ached to see how pale her son's face remained, his eyes so sunken that they looked bruised. He'd looked worse last night, when she'd had to heal dozens of small wounds, three fractured bones, muscles that had all but torn themselves apart with strain, burns on his mouth, his throat, and in his lungs from breathing fury-heated air, and the hideous damage to the flesh of his hands.

Restoring a body that had suffered so much punishment was hideously draining upon the victim. He shouldn't have been conscious, much less standing more or less on his own, but his green eyes, though sunken and weary, were alert.

"What is it?" Tavi asked quietly. His voice was still raw, rough-sounding. Even with watercrafting, there was only so much one could do for burns.

"Varg," she said. "I've been trying to heal him, but he won't let me touch him. We have to move him in the next few minutes, before they search the ship."

Tavi blinked slowly once, and for a second, she wondered if he'd even heard her. "Ah," he said, finally. "All right. Try again."

Isana frowned. "I've tried, several times, to-"

Tavi shook his head. He splashed wearily down into the pool, and sat down on the floorboards, not far from the Cane's head, his feet in the water, his shoulders slumped. He gestured wearily for Isana to proceed.

Isana stepped down into the water again, reached out for Rill, and stepped closer to Varg. She reached one hand toward his chest warily, watching the enormous, dark-furred body for movement. Her fingers got to within perhaps an inch of the Cane's fur before Varg let out a growl. His half-opened eyes never focused, but his lips peeled back away from white fangs, and his jaws opened slightly.

Tavi moved with sudden and shocking speed, for the Cane's head. Before

Isana could react, her son seized one of the Cane's upright ears hard with one hand, squeezing and twisting, and clamped Varg's muzzle shut with the fingers of his other hand, shoving the Cane's head back at an almost brutal angle.

Then, to Isana's utter shock, her son went for the Cane's throat with his teeth.

Varg's entire, enormous body stiffened, and his clawed paw-hands half rose from the water-but before they could reach for Tavi, they froze in place, and a low growl bubbled in Varg's throat.

She heard her son, then. Tavi, his teeth still closed over the Cane's throat, snarled like a beast. The sound rose, deepened again, then repeated. Isana realized with a shock that he was speaking to the Cane.

Varg's bloody eyes seemed to focus for a second or two, and then the Cane let out a low growl and lowered his claws back into the water again.

Tavi opened his mouth slowly, and straightened. He released the hard grip on the Cane's ear, his hand dropping to grip the fur at the nape of Varg's neck. With the other hand, he kept on holding the Cane's muzzle closed.

He turned his head to one side and spat and snorted, apparently to get fur out of his mouth. "Go ahead," he said quietly, then. "He'll be still now."

Isana stared at him for a moment. "How in the world…?"

He gave her a weary smile. "Just have to know how to talk to them."

Isana shook her head, and glanced at Araris. She hadn't noticed when the singulare had stepped up close to Tavi, naked sword in hand.

"Ten minutes," Araris said quietly.

Isana nodded once, called upon Rill, and then laid her bare hand on Varg's chest.

His chest shook with one more growl, but the barely conscious Cane did not move.

Isana closed her eyes and sent her focus down into Rill, and into the water surrounding the Cane. She was immediately startled by how much water surrounded Varg. She had seen the Cane's size, of course, but if she hadn't occasionally been called upon to heal wounded livestock, she would never have even contemplated healing a creature so large.

Granted, she had never healed a Cane before. At first, she feared that the wolflike creature would be too different to benefit from the kind of healing she knew, but she rapidly saw that the fear had been groundless. Pain was universal.

She sensed the injuries in Varg as she might have in anyone else. She sent Rill coursing into the Cane's body, closing his wounds, aligning broken bones, easing inflammation and pain. None of the injuries were especially complex or difficult to repair: It was a question of volume. The Cane simply bore so many various hurts that she was shocked he had survived so long without any help.

Then there was a hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently, and Isana drew her awareness back into her own body. She looked up, blinking, to find Demos standing over her. "Lady," he said quietly. "We're out of time."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Yes, of course."

Demos regarded Tavi and his grip on Varg for a moment. Then the captain said, "We would have restrained him. If we'd had any chains."

Tavi gave Demos a sour look.

Demos nodded to Araris, then at the pool. "In, all of you." He went to the side of the pool and drew a rope from his belt. He secured one end to a ring on the near side of the pool, the other to a similar ring on the far side. "Everyone get hold of that."

Isana told Tavi, "Varg is unconscious now. I had to do a lot. He'll need help."

Tavi nodded once and glanced at Araris. The singulare put his sword away. Each of them went to one side of Varg, dragging one of the Cane's huge arms over their shoulders.

"The rope," Demos said quietly, and Isana shook herself into motion, grabbing on to the rope with both hands. Demos nodded his approval, and said, quietly, "Shouldn't be long."

He closed his eyes and made a gesture with one hand. The hull of the ship, beneath her, suddenly shifted, weirdly fluid, and then simply dropped away, lowering them up to their chins into the waters of the river. As Isana watched, the hull of the ship shifted and then closed over them, leaving a bubble of air trapped against the dome-shaped indentation in the ship's hull.

Then, there was little to do but hold on to the rope in near-total darkness. And wait.