by Mary Dublin
"It's like a sugar cloud!" she exclaimed. "can I… Can I have some more?"
Jon obliged, refilling her outstretched hands with another squirt out the metal canister.
Hazel finished the sweet cream in record time. There were still traces of whipped cream on her face as she dug into the cheesy pasta as if she hadn't eaten in weeks.
"Oh my gosh, it's warm! This is so good—" She glanced up and paused when she saw Jon staring in at his hand. Her eyes widened with alarm. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"
Jon raised his head and blinked down at her. "Hm? Oh, she just turned over, see?" He lowered his cupped hand over the table so Hazel could see her. "That's gotta be a good sign, right? She doesn't feel quite as cold."
Wiping her mouth with the piece of napkin she'd been given, Hazel scooted forward to peer in at Sylvia. Jon was right—some color had returned to her sister's face. She craned her neck, trying to keep all of him in her sights as his other arm moved again. He set the tall canister down and reached for Sylvia's prone form with his other hand. Jon's too-big fingertips ran across her cheek, lingering on the traitor mark branding her fair skin. From there, the fingers moved upwards to gently rearranged her hair around her face, smoothing some particularly unruly flyaways down behind her ears.
Hazel openly stared for a few moments, unsure whether to be comforted or disturbed by his surprisingly tender actions toward her sister. Raising her eyebrows in realization, she pressed her lips tightly together. She wasn't about to pry for details, but she began to wonder if there was something other than friendship in his eyes when he looked at Sylvia. Hazel glanced between Jon and Sylvia as she wondered how well he actually knew her sister. She was doubtful, considering how rarely Sylvia opened up with even her own family. Then again, Hazel was staring at the result of Sylvia's sacrifice to save humans.
"There's probably a lot you don't know about her," she blurted, a feeble attempt to convince herself that she hadn't completely lost Sylvia to a couple of humans, even if this one was kind. "Don't feel bad. She doesn't like people worrying over her or thinking she needs help with anything. But…" She trailed off and sighed. Even if Sylvia did go back home, Hazel simply couldn't see her being happy there. "I dunno, I have a feeling she might let you listen."
Jon raised his eyebrows. "That'd be something, alright," he answered in voice so quiet it was practically a sigh. Drawing Sylvia back to his chest, Jon straightened in his chair and forced a tense smile at Hazel. "Finish up. We've got to leave soon."
When she announced she had eaten her fill, Jon rose immediately to retrieve his jacket from the other room. Needless to say, Hazel wasn't thrilled about having to hide in the confined space again. It was still unsettling to watch him lower Sylvia inside the outer pocket, but she tried to be brave. Jon held open the edge for Hazel with a small, apologetic smile. Hazel grimaced. Reluctantly, she flitted off the table and lowered herself into the pocket.
The upside was that she could be near her sister again. She settled with her back against a corner and adjusted Sylvia so she was close. There was more room in his jacket's pocket as opposed to his shirt's, leaving her enough space that she could stretch her legs out all the way. The older girl's wings twitched, but she offered no other indication of budging at the moment. Hazel wrapped her arms around Sylvia's shoulders and prepared herself for another unpleasant ride in a vehicle, vowing to cut off all the pockets from her clothes after this ordeal was through.
Twenty
Two
The waiting was the worst part. It felt like hours of waiting in the dark with only her sister's frigid body to keep her company. The abundant body heat from Jon's zipped-up jacket kept Hazel from shivering, but they could have been resting inside a castle of ice for all the effect it had on Sylvia.
Jon rarely got the chance to speak to them, as it seemed there was always some other human in the vicinity. It was always a murmured "just a little bit longer" or "hang in there, Hazel". But time dragged out all the same. The fact that it wasn't Jon's fault didn't make it much easier to endure.
"Elliot Everett?"
Hazel stifled a shrill gasp into her arm as Jon leapt to his feet. Whatever noise she'd made must've been concealed by the sound of Jon's clothes rustling. Score one for giant human friends.
After sitting in one spot for so long and only having to endure the movements of Jon's breathing and occasional fidgeting, the tremors of his walk felt freshly startling. She was aware of another set of footsteps walking beside him, but Hazel flinched nonetheless when the woman spoke.
"He's doing great," the woman said encouragingly as Jon's rattling walk slowed. "A real trooper."
Jon loosed a subdued chuckle. "Yeah, sounds like him."
Hazel frowned. They had called another name, but he seemed to think it was his friend. Maybe they lied, she reasoned. They’re still hunters, after all.
The woman's footsteps stopped, but Jon kept going. Even through the pocket's cloth walls, the sterile smell in the room was overwhelming. Hazel clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gagging as she adjusted to the strange smells. She found herself longing with a renewed appreciation the familiar smell of dew-touched earth that was found all throughout the village corridors.
"That was fast," a new voice croaked out nearby. Cliff, Hazel recognized with a small gasp.
"Not that fast. It's been three hours." The rumble of Jon's voice was joined by a low scrape of something being dragged across the floor.
"Oh."
"How are you feeling?" Jon asked intently.
"They've got me drugged up like you wouldn't believe."
Jon chuckled, and there was a long pause before Cliff spoke up again, this time more hushed. "Sylvia here?"
"Mm. And not just her…"
Hazel jerked her gaze skywards, fixed upon the lip of the pocket overhead. Despite her determination to be prepared for Jon's invasive fingers, she was utterly startled when the massive hand dove into the pocket and surrounded both her and Sylvia together. She barely managed to keep a squeak of fear suppressed in her throat as Jon pulled them out and released them into an open palm.
Blinking owlishly in the abrupt light, Hazel's eyes adjusted to see they were in a large room filled with a stiff, single person bed, flashing glass screens, and bags of stale-looking fluid. She clung tighter to her sister as she looked around the room in bewilderment. Practically everything was sterile white, and she couldn't even begin to identify the machines. All this just for the healing of a single person. It never had occurred to her how difficult it must be to live without magic.
"Hey." Cliff lit up with a tired smile, green eyes locking on the tiny pair. "Look who decided to stick around."
After checking and double-checking that there were no other human observers in the strange room, Hazel focused on Cliff. She swallowed and shifted so it wouldn't look like she was trying to hide behind her unconscious sister. Despite her attempt to relax, Cliff's presence kept her on edge.
"Uh, y-yes. Just until Sylvia gets better." Her gaze lingered on the fresh bandages visible under his loose shirt and the thin tube that ended in a needle piercing his forearm. "So… this is how humans get by without healers?"
"Yep." Cliff raised his arm a little as if to show off the lack of magic. "We don't have fancy spellwork like you little guys, so we have to deal with health care. Trust me, you guys aren't missing anything." He gave her a wry smile. His attention shifted to Sylvia's limp form, jade eyes darkening into an alarmed stare. "She's still out?"
Jon nodded grimly. "She's getting a little better, I think. Hazel says it's likely she'll wake up in the next few hours."
"Well I hope she wakes up soon. I owe her one hell of a 'thank you.'"
Cliff tried to sit up straighter, but it strained his shoulder. With a hiss of concentration, he settled back against his pillow. With little warning, he reached one of his massive hands toward Hazel. She drew back with a gasp, fingers digging into Sylvia's arms. To her surprise, Cliff didn't snatch her f
rom Jon's palm. His hand merely remained suspended face-up in invitation; the same hand that had seized her out of the air back near the willows.
"I'm not going to grab you this time," Cliff promised. "I just want to hold you, is all. That's not a crime, is it?" His eyes were warm as he curled his index finger inward in a beckoning invitation.
She eased up her hold on Sylvia, but her stare at the bedridden hunter didn't become any less cautious. He did seem different than before, but she figured it was the effects of whatever drugs he had in his system. Swallowing hard, she looked up at Jon, who gave her a reassuring nod.
Hazel loosened her arms from around Sylvia and pulled away carefully so her sister was laying on her side. It still left plenty of room aboard Jon's palm. Hazel opened her wings and hovered up, still sore from her long flight through the forest and having to cramp her wings in Jon's pocket for extended periods.
She approached Cliff's open hand uneasily, halting in mid-air a couple times before she finally landed on his fingers and folded her wings tightly against her back. She stepped forward until she reached his palm, then knelt down to avoid losing her balance when he moved his hand. Sturdy fingers reacted immediately, curling inward toward and around her. She began to tremble, desperately wishing she hadn't left Sylvia.
The platform of a hand slowly brought her closer to Cliff, stopping near his eye level. She clenched her jaw and tried to avoid his gaze, which never seemed to leave her. She was tempted to rush back to Jon and almost did just that when Cliff's voice rumbled right in front of her.
"Hey now, you're not scared of a cripple, are you?" he chided her gently.
A squeak caught in her throat when the other hand approached. Going rigid, she squeezed her eyes shut before the back of his thick fingers ran down her spine with surprising care. She blinked tentatively and didn't lurch away, though she hardly relaxed. But she didn't want Cliff thinking she was a coward, so she attempted to put on a brave face, tilting her chin up and shaking her head.
"I'm not scared," she said, trying to convince herself as much as him. "You're, uh… not even scary. At all."
He cracked an amused smile that was oddly encouraging. His second hand dropped away, taking a good amount of her tension along with it. She nearly convinced herself she was completely at ease until she flinched at Cliff's voice again.
"How'd you guys end up risking your necks for us anyhow? The willows are over ten miles away."
Hazel looked back at Sylvia cradled in Jon's hand, as if the mere mention of that afternoon would have changed her condition. There was no change. Facing forward again, Hazel took a few minutes to explain to Cliff about the traveling rune Sylvia had put on Jon.
"… and after she finished the incantation, I saw her and got too close, so I ended up taking the ride with her by accident. The next thing I knew, we were hiding behind a tree—"
A piercing shriek rang out.
Hazel whipped her head toward the source, nearly toppling over when Cliff flinched simultaneously.
Sylvia continued to scream for a few more seconds before it winded down to chest-heaving gasps. Still laying on Jon's hand, she flipped onto her other side and writhed, struggling against something invisible. Eyes wide with confusion, Jon cupped Sylvia between both hands, completely hiding her from Hazel's view and muffling her whimpers in a barely-open cocoon of flesh. He glanced to Hazel for help, but she could do little more than gape in alarm.
"Jon." Cliff jerked his head urgently toward the open door. Hazel followed his gaze and went absolutely cold at the thought of more humans barging in to see what the fuss was about. Her fingers knit tirelessly in her lap, soon matching the agitated pink upon her cheeks.
Keeping his voice down, Jon spoke urgently to his hands. "Sylvia!" He spared a brief, jerking glance toward the doorway. "Sylvia, it's me! Snap out of it. I-I'm right here. You're safe!"
Though she showed no sign of direct understanding, Sylvia's thrashing began to die down. When her cries diminished into barely audible whimpers, Jon opened his hands tentatively. Hazel leaned over the side of Cliff's hand to see her sister. Sylvia's eyes were still closed. Her breaths were shallow, but her fit was over. She remained unconscious, unmoving as ever.
"I-I think… she was having a night terror," Hazel spoke up softly, bringing Jon's bewildered gaze up from his cupped hands. "She's told me about those, but she hasn't had them since… a long time." She trailed off, still rattled by the sound of Sylvia shrieking in undeniable terror. "Maybe she'll wake soon."
Jon gently closed his hands around Sylvia's limp body, bringing her solemnly to his front. He looked like he was in pain, too.
Before Hazel could muster up the nerve to assure him, footsteps approached the sterile room. Jon lowered his hands between his legs. Cliff had much less time to conceal Hazel. A yelp flew past her lips when his hand suddenly whisked her downward. The room disappeared, replaced with Cliff's fingers drawing in closer around her along with the bed cover creating a ceiling over her head. She would have struggled, but the sound of a female human's voice made her freeze.
"How are we doing?" She sounded happy to see him.
"Just great, thanks to you." Hazel could hear the smile in his voice, reminded of the way Damian had tried talking to Sylvia a few years back. Cliff's technique seemed to be garnering far better results than Damian's, though.
The rest of the conversation was drowned out by Hazel's heart pounding in her ears. The only thing that kept her from spiraling into a panic attack around Jon and Cliff was that she knew that Sylvia trusted them. But there was no telling what would happen if other humans saw her, and now she didn't have her sister in her arms to make her feel safer. Racked with shivers, she willed the human healer to leave.
Cliff's hand shifted slightly, almost eliciting a cry from Hazel. His thumb curled inward, searching until he found her hand and gave it a squeeze as if to say, It's okay. She went absolutely still for a moment, staring at his attempt at comfort in the semi-darkness. And then without an ounce of hesitation, she wrapped both arms around his thumb and clung tightly, prompting him to loosen his grip for a moment before it closed around her again slowly. Protectively.
His tone of voice toward the human healer changed—he was ready to wrap it up. "Actually, if I could have a pitcher of water sent up in like half an hour, that would be perfect."
"Sure thing," the woman assured him.
A light thumping of flatted feet against tile signaled the human healer's steps headed for the door.
"Coast is clear," Cliff whispered as the footsteps receded down the hallway. "Just us again."
He slowly withdrew his hand from under the covers. Hazel could only imagine how pathetic she looked, clinging to him for dear life. Blushing brightly, she relinquished her grip from his thumb after looking around to confirm there were no unfamiliar faces. She glanced up at Cliff with a small, humiliated smile. So much for not looking like a coward. Still, she preferred to feel embarrassed rather than worry about being seen by a stranger.
"Thanks for hiding me," she said tremulously.
"No problem." His fingers remained curled around her like guardrails. He added the second behind her, as if it was necessary. Although he was the one who was bedridden, he looked at her like she might shatter at any moment.
Hazel promptly turned to give Jon an urgent look. "Keep an eye on her. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it might be a good sign she had a night terror. At least that means she's not completely knocked out anymore. So… the backfired spell must be worn off by now."
Jon frowned, and nodded, peeking down at his hands. He adjusted his hold on her, using his free hand to stroke between her wings. Hazel doubted that would help much, but the tender action did seem to make him feel better, at the very least.
"So, you've been dealing with your sister's messes for a while, huh?" Jon guessed, looking up from his hands to smile at Hazel.
"Oh, you have no idea," she replied immediately, rolling her eyes. "The number of times sh
e's told me to cover for her and lie about where she is! You know, I used to think she was sneaking off with boys until I finally followed her a few months ago. That's when I found out she was looking for weird human stuff." She paused and smiled sheepishly. "No offense."
She focused on Jon's hand, annoyance fading from her eyes and replaced by an inkling of sorrow. "Then a few nights ago, I caught her sneaking out. The night you… found her. I told her it was a bad idea." She still didn't know if she was ultimately right or wrong, but she decided not to tell them that. "But now… I guess she must be really happy living with you two."
Jon's smile widened as he glanced down at Sylvia fondly. "Well… she hasn't told us otherwise. But she puts up with a lot, living with the two of us. She never complains, but…" He cleared his throat. "Yeah. She seems happy."
Hazel nodded, gauging his honesty. "Good," she said finally
It was still difficult to comprehend that her sister getting a hole in her wing could somehow lead her to being happy. Considering her current condition, it certainly was far from being all good.
Cliff cupped Hazel more securely before holding her out toward Jon. "You should get these guys home."
Hazel tensed as she was passed from one pair of hands to another, but to her amazement, it wasn't as frightening as she anticipated. Jon accepted Hazel in his free hand, then conjoined the left and right so the sisters were side by side. Shifting to her knees beside Sylvia, Hazel gripped her hand. Sylvia's fingers twitched, tightening the slightest bit in automatic response, but she continued breathing slowly, eyebrows knit with whatever was troubling her dreaming mind.
"I'll see you soon," Jon's voice rumbled overhead.
Hazel looked over at Cliff, hesitating before she managed to get the words out. "Bye. I hope you… feel better."
Cliff's lips perked up in a drowsy smile. "Feeling better already."
***