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his right arm a few finger-widths above the blankets. It hurt, but
nothing like it had earlier. Heartened, he tested his body further, moving first one limb, then the next. Having tried them all, he eased himself up into a sitting position. As he did so, his head
spun and he teetered on the brink of passing out. The moment passed. His head cleared. He blinked a few times to clear the remnants of sleep from his eyes.
    The sheets fell from his torso and he realised that he was bare to his waist. By twisting his head, Pell could just see the great lines of purple across his back. Shadow must have hit him pretty
hard to cause such vivid bruising, he realised. He had no way of telling whether he had suffered any internal injuries, but he sensed he must have been lucky.
    His clothes were draped over a nearby chair. Taking care not to stand up too quickly, Pell eased himself up to his feet. With tentative, shuffling steps he crossed the short distance from the
bed to the chair. Getting his shirt over his head was a struggle, but somehow he managed it. The effort left him breathless for some time.
    ‘Are you all right?’
Shadow asked, her voice full of concern.
    ‘I’ll be fine,’
he replied
.
‘I’m going to finish dressing, see if the woman has any more food and then we’ll get out of
here.’
    ‘That would be wonderful, but are you sure it’s wise? I feel the pull of the Oracle’s mission, Pell, but I can also feel your pain. I’m not convinced you’re
well enough to travel yet.’
    ‘I’m not staying in this house one heartbeat longer than necessary, Shadow. Didn’t you hear the poison in her tone last time she spoke to me? The woman hates me. She hates
you. She hates having me here. I don’t want to give that hatred time to stew. I’d like to put some distance between us and this place by nightfall.’
    ‘I’ll be waiting for you outside,’
she assured him.
    Tears welled in his eyes as he struggled into his flying trousers, and the weight of his jacket hung heavy on his shoulders. The most difficult challenge, however, was his boots. The combination
of bending and pulling proved too difficult. No matter how hard he tried, Pell could not get his feet into them properly. Eventually, he let out a cry of frustration, mingled with pain, that
brought his hostess running.
    ‘What d’you think you’re doin’?’ she asked, bustling over to the bed and sitting him upright. She knelt by his feet and pulled off the boot that was halfway onto
his right foot.
    ‘Getting out of your life,’ he replied. ‘Help me on with my boots and I’ll be on my way.’
    ‘What’s the matter with you? Gotta death wish, or somethin’? You’d have to be crazy to try’n fly, state you’re in.’
    ‘Crazy?’ He laughed. ‘Maybe I am, missus. But I’m going anyway. I’ve got to. I made a promise. No matter what you think of me, my word is good. Please, help me on
with my boots. There’s money in my saddlebag. I won’t see you out of pocket on my behalf, but I must leave now.’
    The woman looked up at him, her dark eyes narrowed once more. This time, however, her gaze was more thoughtful than hostile. She regarded him for a few heartbeats before making up her mind.
    ‘Very well, young master. I’ll help you into your boots and send you on your way. But you’re not leavin’ without havin’ a bite more to eat before you go. I
insist.’
    ‘Thank you. That would be most kind.’
    Pell was glad to accept her offer. His stomach was rumbling and the little food he had in his saddlebags was past its best. He would need to buy more supplies soon. He had a fair amount of
money, but not enough to last long. He and Shadow would need to earn more at a town or city soon, unless they were to live off the land.
    Money was easy enough to come by when you had a dragon’s abilities to trade. Authorities were always happy to pay to have a dragon determine whether those accused of crimes were guilty, or
innocent. The