She covered her mouth with her hand, feeling her fingers trembling. Was she going to cry? For so many years she had trained herself to hold in her emotions. The sensation she felt now was foreign to her. Uncomfortable. Her eyes stung, her lashes moistened. She closed them, fighting back the feeling. She would not cry. She couldn’t allow it.
“Some circumstances, which are far too complicated to explain under the current duress of the Consul’s situation, have led me to the conclusion that I will not be returning to the house in Dalonshire,” she breathed, her voice shaking under the strain of her emotions. Taking a moment, she paused, gathering her composure before continuing. “Mikel presented a man to Oksuva, a Ven’shal, by the name of Oran Bedrick. He is said to be well-known amongst his kin, and works for an even more prestigious man by the name of Kyros, who we will be meeting here in Siscal tomorrow evening. I know not who Kyros works for, but Oksuva is convinced it is someone of significance. I intend to ingratiate myself with these men in order to gain their trust, and whatever else I can learn from them.”
“Whatever you do, please do not tell any of that to the Consul,” Feolan frowned. His shoulders slumped forward, dejected by Leyna’s words. “I need to go check on him, if you wish to accompany me. If he, by some strange chance, is awake, say nothing beyond the thought of leaving the home in Dalonshire. You know he and I will support whatever you choose to do, just be careful. I do not want to risk losing you as well.”
The thought of seeing Thade frightened her. It was one thing to hear that he was so close to death, but to have to witness it? She wasn’t sure she would be able to keep control of herself.
Guilt filled her mind over all the things she’d neglected to do over the years. She had intentionally stayed away from this place, though there had been little chance for her to visit. If she had desired to, she was convinced it wouldn’t have been impossible. She was cunning enough to have managed it. Instead she’d chosen to ignore them both. What if it was too late to make it up to them now? And for what? Her silly infatuation all those years ago?
Against her will, her legs carried her forward, following Feolan down the darkened hallway, turning into the familiar door of Thade’s bedroom. It still looked the same to her. She remembered every detail, right down to the paintings decorating the walls. Her heart sank to see the dried lily, perfectly preserved in the vibrant lavender hues, untarnished from age, adorning the vase amidst the paintings, the same as it had when she first found it there.
Moving to the bedside, Feolan extended his thumb and index finger to the candle situated on the nightstand, the flame bursting to life at his touch. There on the bed Leyna could see a man’s face, his complexion paled by a deathly pallor against the deep blue fabric of the pillow case. Sweat beaded up on his skin, soaking his dark hair, already matted against his head. He twitched occasionally. Feverish dreams. Nightmares. He looked like death against the luxurious blankets, tucked away in the grim drapes of the canopy bed.
A small bowl of water was resting on the nightstand next to the candle, a white cloth floating gently on the surface. Taking advantage of Feolan’s sleep-hindered reflexes, Leyna quickly grabbed it up, moving over to the other side of the bed, away from him. “Just rest, Feolan. I can keep an eye on him if you need to sleep. Even for an hour, it would be good for you. In the nicest way possible, you look awful.”
Feolan slumped down in the chair beside the bed. A soft chuckle escaped him, trailing off absently. She watched him, the way his head rolled back against the cushioned chair. For the first time since she arrived, his body relaxed, sinking into the comfortable seat. Within moments, he was asleep. She followed the steady rise and fall of his chest. Smiling to herself, she turned her attention back to Thade’s weakened form lying there, unaware of her presence while lost in his fever-induced slumber.
She looked around the room idly, frowning at the realization that there was no other chair for her to use. Being careful not to disturb Thade, she lowered herself slowly onto the mattress, setting the bowl on the nightstand closest to her.
Dipping her hand into the cool water, she wrapped her fingers around the cloth, wringing it out. When the last droplets had fallen, she placed the cloth lightly over Thade’s forehead, dabbing it along the skin to clear away the sweat in hopes of easing his rising temperature. It was scary to think it was him lying there. The man who was always so strong. Reduced to this, unresponsive to her touch and unable to care for himself.
In the back of her mind she felt compelled to do something to help him. Anything. It seemed to her that something from her lessons with Faustine could be utilized in this situation. Even if only to ease the fever. But it could be dangerous to one or both of them if she made even the slightest error. Cleansing and healing uses of her internal energy were very sensitive. Intricate. It required control that she knew she had yet to achieve. That was why the Vor’shai physicians were so well-respected. It was an art that they had worked and studied to perfect for decades upon decades. A silly girl like herself would have no comparison to their knowledge.
Wetting the cloth again, she dabbed it over his skin, tilting her head to one side curiously at the sight of him sleeping. Lost in dreams that only he could see. They were far from pleasant. She didn’t need to see what was happening in his mind to know it was terrible. But what things haunted the feverish mind? Hallucinations – or possibly the inescapable horrors of the images ingrained in his subconscious from years at war. She wasn’t sure which would be worse.
The coolness of the cloth didn’t last long against the heat rising from Thade’s skin. It was a losing battle, wetting and rewetting the cloth, trying to keep the fever at bay. She could hear his breathing becoming more ragged. For a split second, she thought she saw his eyes open, but she couldn’t be sure. It was so quick; it was hard to know if she was imagining it from her own desires, the bright silver glow of his handsome gaze settling on her, miraculously healed of this sickness. Wishful thinking. Reality didn’t work that way and she was well beyond the age where she believed in fairy tale endings.
Hearing the increasing wheeze of his labored breath, she sat the cloth on the nightstand next to the bowl, pressing her cool hands against the skin of Thade’s cheeks. He was practically scalding, the heat burning her own skin. The drastic difference in their body temperatures caused Thade to twitch suddenly, jerking awkwardly under her gentle hold.
All at once, he fell still. The whistling air seeping into his lungs ceased, leaving the room in complete silence. Her insides lurched. Despite the urge to vomit from the overflow of emotions choking her, she was amazed to find her hands remaining steady, her fingers sliding along Thade’s skin to his neck. A pulse. It was so faint she could barely feel it, unsure if it was even there at all.
“Oh gods, please… don’t do this,” she whispered desperately. Pressing her ear to his chest, she sat there, her body racked by the heavy beats of her own heart. There was no rise and fall to indicate any breath entering into him. In a moment of utter panic she pressed her lips against his, pinching his nose between her fingers while she exhaled her own breath into his lungs. “Wake up, Thade.” She exhaled again, harder, watching his chest closely for any sign of movement. “Come on. I did not risk death at the hands of those arrows just to watch you die like this.”
A strained whistle sounded from his mouth. A breath? Was she hearing things? Through the silence she heard another one. Fainter than before, but unmistakable. He was back – but for how long?
Silently she cursed the distance between them and Tanispa. Why did the road have to be so long? If the shamans were here, they would be able to save him. But they weren’t. And it would still be days before they arrived.
He didn’t have days. If no one could help him, he didn’t appear to have the rest of the night.
Faustine’s teachings came back to her. More insistent than before. What could it hurt? It was such a harmless question with so many very dangerous possibilities. He could die. And how was t
hat any different than what would happen if she did nothing? The possibility of her own death was less worrisome to her. If she wasn’t careful, there was a chance the illness could shift from him into her. Her hands were already fumbling over the blankets, pulling them down away from Thade’s chest. Those risks were all ones she was willing to take, if there was any chance it would save him.
Under other circumstances, she would have blushed at the thought of undoing the buttons to Thade’s shirt, revealing his chest. Her fear and the rush of adrenaline made it feel normal, taking no notice of his body. All that mattered was locating a point where she could access the flow of his internal energy to meld it with her own. A location to form a conduit.
There were several points over the body where the flow was more potent. Faustine had stressed the knowledge of them when it came to the healing magic, most specifically a point just below the naval. If she could get a clean circuit of energy between her and Thade at that point, she could attempt a cleansing. It was said to work on minor infections or viruses, to help rid the body of the impurities, but there was no guarantee it would function the same for this illness. There was no way to even know what the root of the illness was, let alone how to combat it.
Gently she pressed the palm of her right hand over the skin of Thade’s lower abdomen, his body heat instantly warming the surface. She needed to focus – but how could she focus at a time like this? So much was riding on her and she knew next to nothing about what she was doing. Every inch of her wanted to panic. To start screaming for Feolan to wake up and do something. Anything.
But she knew Feolan was not trained in how to manipulate energy in such a way. Military training was drastically different, focusing on flushing poison or controlling blood flow to help staunch serious injuries at most. None of that would be of any use to her in this.
A steady thrum started to build up under her palm, sending a wave of excitement through her at the realization that something was working. Or rather, that something was happening, though whether or not it was working was yet to be determined.
Breathing in deeply, she centered her thoughts on the unnatural warmth connecting her palm with Thade. A soft blue glow lit up the area around her slender fingers. To strengthen the conduit, she placed her left hand beside her right, shifting onto her knees beside Thade’s still form on the bed. Envision the impurities being cleansed from the body. The blue glow traveled from her hands, down into the depths of Thade’s skin. She could see it coursing through him, traveling along the paths of the veins, illuminating him from the inside. It maneuvered, unhindered, down to his feet and swiftly back up to his midsection, coming to a halt in the center of his chest. The heart. Lungs. None of the organs there could be reached.
Dismayed, Leyna slid her knees up further on the bed, positioning herself next to his chest. It was more dangerous for her to attempt anything from such a sensitive point, but there was another location there from which she could attempt the link. However, it was less likely she would be able to perform any type of cleansing. The sickness and impurities were too deeply embedded. One wrong move and she could send them directly into his vital organs, seizing his system and killing him instantly. Her only chance would be to attempt a transference of the negative energies into her own body; she just wasn’t entirely sure she was capable of the task.
If she could just take enough of it into her to allow the energy to flow more freely. That was all she needed. It would be enough to stabilize him until the physicians could reach him, at the very least.
Focus. Any distraction could be the death of them both. She rested her palms over the center of Thade’s chest, feeling the dull thud of his weakening heart. Only once had she ever directed the energy inward. It was a completely different sensation, the blue glow slowly enveloping her hands in their entirety, creeping up her arms and into her neck, spreading out over her body.
Instantly, she began to feel her insides tremble. Fatigue coursed over, weakening her, a sudden chill sending shivers down her spine.
Her point of contact with Thade was like a magnet, holding her in place. She needed to let go. If she transferred too much, it was sure to kill her, already building heavily around her lungs. What was I thinking? I am going to get myself killed! She just needed one firm pull to separate her energy from Thade’s. He was stronger than she anticipated. The magic inside him was superior to her own, overpowering her.
Steeling herself for one last tug, Leyna yanked her entire body backward, tumbling head over heels from the bed onto the floor in a mass of fabric and hair, shaking the room with the impact. Her heart was still racing. The blue glow remained around her hands and arms and torso. She lay there, gazing up at the ceiling, watching from the corner of her eye as the light gradually faded, lingering longest over her chest before winking out of sight.
From somewhere nearby, she was suddenly aware of Feolan’s hushed voice whispering her name. He was standing over her. The outline of his face was fuzzy in her vision, blurring the edges, making him appear disjointed. Was she hallucinating? Had she hit her head when she fell and lost consciousness?
Someone was pulling her to her feet. Feolan’s voice continued to repeat her name, over and over, growing more insistent until her eyes settled on him, following the wobbly figure drunkenly. “Feolan? Is that you? I think I fell…”
“Leyna? What in the name of all that is holy were you doing?”
She felt intoxicated. Fits of giggles broke up her thoughts, her hand covering her mouth to keep them quiet. Consciously, she found nothing humorous about what had happened. Inside, she feared the outcome of her dabbling. She wanted to see Thade, to check his pulse, listen to his breathing, feel his temperature. But her movements were clumsy, her body resting heavily against Feolan as he guided her back to the edge of the bed where she’d been sitting.
The blankets were still pulled away from Thade, his unbuttoned shirt lying open. Groggily, she extended her hand out, thinking to feel his chest, to see if it was still moving with his breathing, thinking better of it at the last second, retracting her hand. There was no saying that the transfer would not begin again. The break between them had been sloppy. Lacking in closure. It was the only excuse for the strange behavior of her physical self while her mind remained coherent, mostly. She had disrupted her own balance.
“Leyna? Can you hear me?”
“Hmm?” Who was talking to her? She was tired. Oh, so tired. Her body wanted to curl up on the soft mattress and drift away into sleep, but that wasn’t possible. This bed was already taken by someone. There wasn’t enough room for her.
Absently, she extended out her hand, feeling the cool sensation of Feolan’s skin under her fingers. He was real. She hadn’t been imagining his presence. Her fall had woken him, and alerted him to what she was doing. Her mind registered the sound of his voice, speaking to her questioningly, shaking her. Was he angry with her? What was he saying…?
Squinting her eyes, she peered through the dim light of the room, straining to make out the details of Feolan’s worried face. The touch of her hand on his cheek helped her to steady the image, bringing him into focus. All at once everything came back to her, painfully clear in her desperation. She was still in Thade’s room. He was still sick. Had she helped at all?
She turned away from Feolan. There weren’t any words to explain to him what she had done. How could she possibly explain the reasons which made such perfect sense to her? He’d been asleep. He hadn’t witnessed the brief moment where the life drifted away from the sweat-soaked body of the man lying on the bed.
Instinctively she reached for the cloth, now practically dry, resting on the nightstand. Dipping it down into the cool water in the bowl, she squeezed the excess droplets from it, basking in the glorious chill against the skin of her own hand. She couldn’t be sure if there was any conscious thought drifting through her mind as she dabbed it over Thade’s face.
Odd. He felt cool to her touch, his breath quietly moving in and out through
his nostrils. Feolan was trying to take the cloth from her. He was speaking again. How could she have missed the sound of his voice. “You are burning up, Leyna.”
Burning up. Yes. It was warm in there. Dreadfully warm. Chills ran up and down the length of her spine, causing her to shudder visibly. Bringing the moist cloth up to her own face, she wiped it along her skin, exhaling blissfully at the cool sensation. “I need air. It is suffocating in here. No wonder he is having such difficulty breathing.”
“The air in here is fine,” Feolan frowned. “You need to sleep. Whatever you did has caused a dangerous imbalance of the energy in your body. The more you try to do is only going to disrupt it worse.”
Sleep? She couldn’t sleep. Kael would be furious if she – Kael. Of course. That was why she couldn’t sleep. She needed to get back to Zander’s. The gods only knew what the hour was. Morning would be fast approaching, and when the sun started to brighten the horizon, her concealment in the darkness along the road would be gone. Anyone could see her sneaking back into the little window of her room. No, there would be no sleeping. She needed to leave. Now.
“I have to go,” she breathed, rising quickly to her feet. The sudden motion caused her to sway unsteadily, nearly falling back onto the bed, saved once again by Feolan’s strong arms. “If they find me gone –”
“I will take you back…”
“No,” she gasped. It was too dangerous to even consider. It would be one thing if she was spotted along the road. Quite another if she was spotted with him.
“You will not make it back by yourself. We can take a horse most of the way, and then I can walk you back when we get closer. Where are you staying while here in Siscal?”
“Zander’s.” Why was she telling him? She couldn’t possibly be considering accepting his offer. “But that does not change the fact that they cannot see me with you. They cannot know I left. I have to go alone.”
The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 44