Putting my scales back on the moment I was out of sight, I covered the ground back to the barn at a run. I had spent far too much time arguing with Schmoo, but when I made it back to Kaa'saht he was still hanging in there, though his wounds were still seeping blood he could ill-afford to lose. Summoning the sphere, I popped it into my mouth while allowing myself to expand enough to allow me to pick up Kaa'saht's inert form with one forepaw. Cradling him to me, I snapped us to a grassy field in back of the facility Schmoo had described. Almost immediately a small herd of cattle penned nearby began to bawl in panic, but I ignored them as I hobbled three-legged the rest of the way to the building.
The nearest door I could use was one of those big metal roll-up affairs at the near end of the loading dock. It was also locked for the night, but hooking my talons under the lower edge and heaving upwards until the locking bar sheared through solved that problem. Pulling the damaged door back down behind me I peered about the cluttered, thankfully deserted interior of the cavernous facility, my slitted eyes finally alighting upon what looked to be an open area near the center of the floor. I made my way toward it, carefully threading my way through the labyrinth of crates, cages, equipment and cubicle partitions with Kaa'saht still cradled to my breast. The area turned out to be the sort of open, pen-like setup one might reserve for the treatment of larger creatures. Excellent. There was rubberized padding on the concrete floor in this area; I carefully eased Kaa'saht limp body down to rest upon it.
There had been a steadily growing din as more and more of the various animals caged and penned within the building caught my scent and went berserk; I reduced all but the stupidest of them to a terrified silence by removing the sphere from my mouth and giving them a single angry hiss. As things quieted, I studied Kaa'saht, then used the power of the sphere to carefully remove his human seeming. The air seemed to ripple, and suddenly Kaa'saht's striking, blue-black form appeared, lying on his side before me. Then I cursed myself for an idiot as my hastily applied bandages shredded away within the blink of an eye, revealing wounds becoming huge upon the reptilian form, blood pouring from them.
Frantically I pressed my hands down upon the now howitzer-sized damage as I cast about for something, anything, to staunch the flow but finding nothing. Desperately I drew breath, then flamed, directing that azure column of fire across the bleeding flesh. There was a sizzling hiss and a boiling cloud of steam, then the stench of charring meat filled my nostrils. I blinked the steam out of my eyes to see the blood flow greatly reduced by my field-expedient cauterization, added a few more puffs of flame to seal-,off the rest.
For a long moment I stared down at the charred mess I had made, swallowing several times to keep my gorge down. Then a weak groan had me whipping my head around to see Kaa'saht's eyes flicker open. Apparently the pain of what I'd done had jolted him to consciousness, and he blinked dazedly at his surroundings before finally focusing on me. "My Lord," he sighed, his voice a shadow of its normal self.
"Kaa'saht, I'm sorry," I began. "I should have known better. You didn't have to--"
"No, my Lord, no. Please--" Kaa'saht broke off, panted for a moment, then resumed. "Please, there is no apology to be made. It is I who am beholden to you. I betrayed you, betrayed you all. I stole your family away." He paused again, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as something within him spasmed painfully. "I threw away my honor." He looked back up to me, astonishment in my eyes. "But, rather than killing me, as was your right, you not only spared me but offered my honor back to me. How could I-- How could I do any less than place myself between you and the-- and the death that was reaching for you? How could I do any less?" He gasped for breath, his eyes growing vague. "My-- My only regret is that I cannot serve you further. I am so sorry, my Lord. . . . Please, please tell Pasqual that I died with my honor. Please tell . . . tell . . . ."
"You're not going to die today, Kaa'saht," I rumbled, "not if I can help it." But my words went unheard as the young dragon once again fell unconscious.
I studied his inert form, drew in a breath, then let it out in a shaky gust. I then used the sphere once more to transfer more strength to Kaa'saht. His breathing steadied again, but it took more energy to achieve than the last time. Dragons are incredibly tough, but the damage done was just too severe, and he was slowly but steadily slipping away. After that desperate midnight skirmish in Dithra's abode, Stefan had attempted to explain to me the nature of the dangerous but necessary link between a dragon's human simulacrum and his true form, the link that would cause injury to one to be reflected upon the other, but I'd only understood roughly one word in three. Now I silently cursed myself for my ignorance, and waited for the physician who might never arrive.
It was another twenty minutes or so; it felt like twenty years. Finally my draconic senses detected the sound of a car's engine. I quickly shifted back to human form, winced again at the still-ferocious but slowly receding headache, then hurried to the front of the building. As I went I checked the clip in the assassin's weapon, then adjusted the .45 beneath my jacket so that the silencer wouldn't hang-up on the waistline of my trousers if I needed it in a hurry. If the doctor thought to bring the police with him, I would have no choice but to kill them all.
There was a tiny lobby at the building's main entrance. In the unlit gloom of it, I peered through the front glass, saw a lone figure standing beside a car now parked in the front lot. Hands in his pockets, he stood looking back up the drive, possibly not believing that whoever had the emergency had arrived yet, possibly for another reason.
No time for paranoia. I took a deep breath, then unlocked the front door and stepped out. The door made a small squeak as it opened, and the man turned at the sound. I studied him as I approached; heavy-set, mid-sixties perhaps, with a jowly, care-worn face and hair an iron-gray in color. His dark blue eyes studied me in turn. As I neared, he finally spoke. "One of the staffers at the university called me, told me there was some sort of medical emergency here."
I nodded, my eyes never leaving him. "Yes, sir. Doctor Clarke?" He nodded. "I'm sorry to have to call you sir, but I had no choice." I half-turned, gestured back toward the building. "The patient's already been moved inside. If you would--?"
The man studied me for a moment more, then nodded again and preceded me into the building. Once inside, he frowned at the dark, empty lobby, but continued on down the hall toward the main work areas. "By the way, who let you in?" he asked a little too casually.
My eyes flicked down the length of the hallway, I calculated the odds of the good doctor escaping me at this point. "No-one, sir," I responded at last.
He paused at that and half-turned back to me, his eyes immediately going to where I had my hand tucked inside my jacket. He sighed. "I see."
I felt a pang of remorse at that. "Sorry, sir," I apologized, but then gestured forward again. He sighed once more, and we resumed our course. He didn't speak again until we were almost to our destination. "You realize, of course, that I'm not licensed to work on--"
We rounded a final supply cabinet, and Clarke lurched to a halt. For long seconds he just stared, his jaw sagging slightly. "Good Lord," he mumbled at last. "Is that-- Is that--" He turned to me, recoiled slightly when he saw the silenced .45 in my hand, though the weapon was pointed at the floor at the moment.