Page 4 of The Infirmary for Dragon Burns and Midair Mishaps

Like distant thunder drawing upon the infirmary. Sudden darkness swept past the windows, a clawed shadow blocking out the sun. The walls trembled, the floorboards creaked, and outside, clay tiles dropped like hail.

Seraphine swore. “Why is it always the roof?”

A deafening roar answered her question.

2

EDEN

The roar shook the very marrow in my bones. My knees buckled as the sound ripped through me, the vibration so strong I had to steady myself against the exam table.

“By the stars!” Seraphine complained, stumbling her way toward the window. Her hands dropped to her hips. “Is all that racket really necessary?”

Another deafening roar shook the infirmary, and nerves sloshed around my stomach with this morning’s breakfast. I knew what usually followed roars like that. My fingers blanched around the exam table.

Get it together, I told myself. Now is not the time.

“She just likes to let us know she’s coming,” Matty said, clearing debris off the floor.

Seraphine tsked, muttering as she spied out the window. “I think a dragon landing in the garden is warning enough.”

“Must be a doozy of an injury.” Matty rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Nisse, get those salves ready!”

Bang!

The door crashed against the wall. Standing in the doorway, framed by a menacing silver-scaled dragon, was one of the grumpiest-looking women I’d ever laid eyes on. She glanced from my stunned expression to Seraphine’s crossed arms to Matty’s ridiculous grin, and her scowl darkened her face like a storm cloud. Still, I had to admit, it was a rather nice face—sharp gray eyes, strong nose, rosy lips, and a jaw that looked to be cut from stone. Her black hair was pulled back in a single braid and tied off with a scrap of leather.

I cleared my throat, suddenly as dry as sand.

The woman’s eyes narrowed in my direction, and my heart flip-flopped. She had the look of every dragon wrangler I’d ever encountered—determined. Fierce. A little wild. But I’d never seen one look quite so miserable. Not that any of that mattered, of course.

What mattered was the man slumped over her shoulder.

“You there!” she barked at me. At me! She hiked the limp body further up her shoulder. “Find Gunther. Now!”

Excuse me? Who did this woman think she was?

A wrangler had their place, and it wasn’t shouting orders at anyone inside the infirmary. She didn’t work here, and she certainly wasn’t going to tell me what to do.

I ignored her, my gaze falling to the patient, assessing the man who moaned against her shoulder. He was obviously somewhat conscious, which was a good sign. His head lolled forward, and the wrangler sagged under the dead weight.

Okay, that was less good.

Whether it was from pain or blood loss, the man was now out cold. And I could smell the curdle of singed flesh. A burn nurse would know that smell anywhere.

“Did you not hear me, burntender?” the wrangler snapped, dragging the injured man across the threshold of the door. “I need Gunther. Move it!”

Matty surged forward to help the wrangler deposit the man on the exam table. “He’s on a house call.”

Laid out, I could see exactly where the dragon fire had caught the patient. It had scorched the side of his tunic, burning away the fabric and singeing the skin across the left side of his ribs. Red-hot blisters swelled over the injury.

“Who’s in charge then?” the wrangler demanded.

All heads turned. S-l-o-w-l-y. In my direction.

Why were they all looking at me?

“This is, uh, Eden. Our new burn nurse,” Matty said unhelpfully. He scrubbed at the back of his neck, eyes flicking from me to the wrangler. “It’s her first day.”