by Kara Timmins
“I’m not ready to watch him die.”
“Do you know that he is dying? What’s going on with him exactly?”
“I don’t know for sure.” She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “But I’m positive it has to do with his mouth. He let me look, but just once. The area was really red, but it didn’t look like it did before. It looked like the wound was starting to heal. I don’t know if we didn’t get to it soon enough or if I didn’t treat it right.”
“What has he been saying? Does he say it hurts?”
“He doesn’t say much of anything anymore. And when he does, sometimes it doesn’t make any sense, especially the past few days. He shivers a lot. He says he’s cold.”
“Does he feel cold to you?”
Neasa nodded. “He sweats a lot. His body is fighting something, and it’s losing. I can’t help him.”
“And there’s nothing here that you can use?”
Neasa looked around, panic finding its place on her face again. “No . . . I don’t know.”
“Then we should get back to him and try to think of a plan.” He walked forward, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes. “We’ll talk to Timyr. Maybe the two of you can come up with something. We’ll keep trying until we can’t try anymore.”
“I don’t know how I’ll be able to look at anything the same if he dies. I know I’ll never forgive myself.”
Eloy pulled her into his chest again. He didn’t know what he could say to her that would take some of the pain away. He knew there weren’t any words that could fix this. He didn’t try.
49
“Did you find anything?” Timyr asked as Eloy and Neasa emerged from the bushes.
“No,” Neasa said, her voice level and cold. “How is he?”
Eloy and Neasa walked toward Malatic. He hadn’t moved since the last time they’d seen him.
“Not good,” Timyr said. “Still breathing, though. His heart starts beating really fast and then slows down and goes offbeat.”
Neasa squeezed her eyes closed. “This is your forest, Timyr. Do you know anything that could help with that?”
Timyr pinched his lips together, stopping the irritation that threatened to boil over. “This isn’t my forest. And I’m no healer. You know as well as I do what’ll work.”
“How much do you have in your bags that you do know how to use?” Eloy asked.
“Not a lot,” Neasa said. “I’ve used a lot in the past few weeks. Nothing worked. Obviously.”
“If I had something I was sure would help I would’ve used it by now,” Timyr said.
Eloy looked at Neasa. “What if you both pile what you have together and see if you can make something useful? I still have a few things from Valia too. Do you think that’ll work?”
Neasa looked at Timyr, who was still crouched low next to Malatic.
“It’s worth looking into,” she said.
“You’re welcome to what I have,” Timyr said, “but we have to move him first. We’ve got to get him lying down somewhere safer.”
“Is there a good place close by?” Eloy asked.
Timyr closed his eyes, sensing the area. “There’s a flat area good for a camp about thirty strides to the left.”
“Do you think it’s okay to move him?” Eloy asked.
“Should be,” Timyr said. “We can take it slow. We have plenty of sun left.”
They moved Malatic, who remained motionless and slack in their grips, with Timyr guiding the way. All three were panting when they finally got to their camp. There were some vines and plants to cut and clear away, but there wasn’t much growth due to the large slab of rock just under the surface of the ground.
Neasa piled hides under Malatic’s head. She ran her fingers over his forehead, her mouth pulled into a hard, white line. Eloy wanted to turn away and give her peace and privacy, but he fought the urge. Turning away was the easy thing. Instead, he walked over to them and picked up Malatic’s hand. It felt cold, too cold for a man who still had life in him. A sheen of clammy sweat built up between their palms like a barrier.
Neasa sniffed. “It’s not done yet, right?” Her voice was deeper, heavier with the weight of her sadness.
“Right,” Eloy said.
She tried to smile, but it didn’t stick, and when it fell away, the tired emptiness was strong enough to transfer over to Eloy.
“Let’s look and see what we have to help him,” Eloy said.
50
The sun was setting as Eloy, Neasa, and Timyr crouched around an array of different powders, leaves, insect casings, branches, and bark. Eloy pulled the last little pouch out of his bag and rolled three perfectly round berries into his palm. Malatic was unconscious a few strides behind them.
“Put those away,” Neasa said.
Timyr’s eyes went wide. “What are they?”
“We don’t know,” Neasa said.
“They haven’t changed since I found them,” Eloy said in wonder.
He hadn’t looked at them since he’d given one to one of the Vaylars. Looking down at the little berries, he realized he was more weathered now than they were since he’d last needed them.
“Put them away,” Neasa repeated.
“That dangerous, huh?” Timyr asked.
“Unknown and powerful,” Neasa said. “So, yes.”
Eloy rolled the berries back up and tucked them away back in his bag.
Neasa panned over the spread. “So, what do we have?”
“I’m going to go check on Malatic,” Eloy said. “Not much I can do for you with this stuff.”
Malatic didn’t look any better, but Neasa had wrapped him up in most of the pelts they had. Eloy built a little fire anyway. The light danced over Malatic’s sleeping face, giving the illusion of liveliness. Even the vitality of firelight fell short of what Malatic used to have. Eloy thought back to the time when Malatic had first set out with them, and how the steady stream of words that flowed out of his mouth had seemed endless. But then something had shifted. Trust, maybe. Assurance that he didn’t have to rely on his bravado. But the real change was Neasa. Most of what Malatic had become was because of his love for her. She gave him purpose, a place in the world that made sense.
“Come on,” Eloy whispered to Malatic. “I know you have something to say about all of this.”
Eloy felt a jolt of hope when Malatic moved his mouth, but no words came. If he was talking, he was doing it in a dream. His eyes darted around under his eyelids. Still, the movement had to be good. There was still enough life in him to dream.
Eloy sat down with the darkening forest at his back, his companions in front of him. “Of all the things you’ve seen and all the fights you’ve won, there is no way that you’re going to fall like this. You have to find your way back. I don’t know if Neasa will survive if you don’t make it. You’ve said that you would go anywhere she goes, but you’re about to go somewhere she isn’t. That’s no place for you. So you really don’t have a choice. You have to get well again.”
Malatic didn’t move. Eloy didn’t expect him to, but he hoped his words filtered through somehow. The truth was he didn’t know what else to do. He couldn’t come up with a battle plan or a clever ploy for this.
Neasa came around and crouched next to Malatic’s head. “How’s he doing?”
“Doesn’t seem much different,” Eloy said. “He was dreaming. Promising, I think.”
Neasa nodded and put both of her hands on Malatic’s forehead. “He still feels hot.”
“Should we put the fire out?” Eloy asked.
Timyr came over and crouched between Eloy and Neasa. “We need the light. Let’s take some of these pelts off first.”
Neasa started peeling back the layers, but the more she took off, the more Malatic started shivering. “Pelts on, then,” she said befor
e folding the layers back over him.
“Did you guys come up with anything?” Eloy asked.
“We mixed some things we’re going to try,” Neasa said, “but at this point it’s all speculation. At least it’s better than not doing anything.” She looked at Timyr. “Ready?”
“Just about,” Timyr said.
He used two sticks to pull a little glass dish out of the fire that Eloy hadn’t seen him put in. Timyr sprinkled pinches of different things into the cupped surface, smoke rising up with each new addition. Different scents puffed out: some were sweet and pleasant, others harsh and bitter. The finished product was a little pile of dark ash. He dribbled a drop of water into the mound and rubbed the mixture together between his finger and thumb.
“Ready,” Timyr said.
Neasa took Malatic’s face in between her hands and took a deep breath.
“Is this dangerous?” Eloy asked.
“No more than what he’s already going through,” Neasa said. “But it’s not without risks. We’re guessing here. He’s either going to definitely die or maybe die. I’m willing to take the risk for maybe. How about you?”
“Maybe is better,” Eloy agreed.
“Hopefully he’d agree with us.” Neasa opened Malatic’s mouth.
Timyr was quick as he wiped the dark substance in a streak across Malatic’s tongue.
Neasa closed Malatic’s mouth. “Now we have to wait. Good or bad, we’ve done what we can do.”
No one but Malatic slept that night. Neasa, Eloy, and Timyr sat around the fire and waited. The only one among them that made any sound was Vivene. Her little fuzzy body bounded around the campsite, taking her time to visit with each of them. She was a keen creature, and she knew to stay off of Malatic, but she also seemed to know that they needed her distractions. Keeping a smile at bay as she rummaged through their hair with her little fingers or fluffed herself against the ticklish parts of their necks was impossible. She was a cord to sanity, whether she knew it or not. Even if the reprieve was just for a few moments at a time, it helped keep the attention from the fact that Malatic’s condition wasn’t changing.
Then, impervious to the callousness of the implications of its arrival, the sun rose again. The white light was harsher than the golden glow of firelight, and it made it harder to deny the sickly shades and hollow shadows of Malatic’s face. Still, he was breathing.
“Neas?” Malatic managed to wheeze out at full morning.
Neasa was sitting next to him, but she’d been fighting off sleep for a while. She was more awake after hearing his voice than if she’d had a few days of rest.
She took Malatic’s hand. “Yes, I’m right here.”
“What’s going on?” Malatic asked. “I feel bad.”
“I know,” she whispered. “You’re not well. You fell yesterday while we were walking.”
“Looks like it’s not part of the healing process after all, huh?” Malatic said.
“Appears not.”
“I don’t feel good,” he said.
“I know,” Neasa said.
But even before she was done talking, Malatic tipped over on his side and threw up. The noxious stench enveloped the area. The puddle of yellow, green, and black muck was almost too viscous to flow away down the gentle slope of the ground.
“That’s good,” Neasa said as she rubbed Malatic’s back. “Get it out. That’s a good sign.”
Malatic heaved again, but not much more came out. He rolled over onto his back and whimpered, a sound Eloy never thought he would hear.
Neasa looked up at Eloy and Timyr. “We need some water. Some to clean up, and some to drink. Can you go and get some?”
Eloy nodded, eager to be useful. They grabbed all the water pouches and Eloy followed Timyr into the forest.
“Do you think he’s going to pull through this?” Eloy asked as they filled the water pouches at a trickling stream.
“I know about as well as you do,” Timyr said. “I’ve learned to use things from this forest when I need it, but I don’t know how to use things like Neasa does. My instincts say his survival is about as sure as the weather. We’ll have to wait and see. But it does seem like he’s better off today than he was yesterday.”
“Okay,” Eloy said.
“I’ll tell you this, though: that man isn’t going with you any farther. I know what you want, but even if he gets better, he’s not going any deeper into this forest. You shouldn’t ask him to.”
Eloy finished filling up the water pouches. “You’re right.”
“So, what does that mean for you and what you’re doing?” Timyr asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Eloy said.
“Well, we should get back. You let me know what you decide, and we’ll make a plan from there.”
Eloy didn’t want to have to decide, and he didn’t want to have to make a plan. He liked the plan they had. That was the plan he wanted. He wanted Malatic to get better and Neasa to get that look of excitement on her face again. He wanted Neasa and Malatic right next to him as he discovered everything they had come so far and sacrificed so much to see.
With the ferocity of a petulant child, he wanted to keep going as they had been.
51
Malatic was sitting up by the time Eloy and Timyr got back. Neasa and Malatic were no longer by the splotch of sickness now drying on the ground, where flies hummed and darted. Malatic was hunched under the layers of furs draped over his shoulders. The round of his back and hollows of his cheeks made him look like a much older man.
Neasa got up and took the water from Eloy.
Eloy kept a firm grip on the water pouches. “I’ll do it.”
“You sure?”
Eloy hadn’t stopped looking at Malatic. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s . . .” Neasa looked over her shoulder. Matalic was awake, but staring into nothingness. “He’s distant. Maybe a little bit better than he was. But not by much.”
Eloy nodded. “I’ll boil some water and clean up.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Eloy moved through his tasks without giving much attention to the actions themselves. His thoughts were solely on what was going to happen next and trying to figure out how to make what he wanted to happen connect with what was likely. He thought on it through the day’s silence, and in the long stretch of night between short bouts of sleep. He waited so long that the time for decision met him, whether he wanted it to or not.
“We can’t keep going on like we have been,” Neasa said the next morning.
Eloy looked over at a sleeping Malatic and then back at Neasa.
He wanted to find some string of words that had been cluttering up his mind for so many hours, but he couldn’t grab at the right ones. He was out of ideas, and he didn’t know what to do next.
“What do you want to do?” Timyr put a seed in his mouth and chewed as he looked at Neasa.
Neasa rubbed her eyes. “I don’t know.”
“Then let’s lay it out,” Timyr said. “We can go forward, which you just said you don’t want to do. We can stay put and let what’s to happen, happen. Or we can try to come up with a plan.”
“I’ve been trying to come up with a plan,” Neasa said, her tone cold.
“Then let’s try again,” Timyr said. “What would you do if you could do anything?”
“If I wasn’t lost in a sick forest I didn’t know?”
“If you weren’t lost in a sick forest you didn’t know.”
“I would use what I have in Valia to drop his fever, reduce swelling, and fight infection.”
“What would you use?” Timyr asked.
Neasa inhaled and looked to the sky, searching her thoughts. “There’s sincrit for infection, it’s a flower. Crution casings for fever, but they need to be dried in the summer sun for a week after a fr
esh molting. Sealing leaves for the fever, in a tea.”
“The infection is the problem. What does sincrit look like?”
“It’s a small flower. No bigger than a thumbnail. My thumbnail, not yours. It grows on a a bright green vine.”
“Does it have a stripe down the middle of each petal?” Timyr asked.
Neasa perked up. “It does.”
“What color is it?” Timyr asked.
“Blue.”
Timyr tightened his mouth and rumbled a sound of disappointment in his chest.
“What?” Neasa asked.
“There’s something like that here, but it’s purple, not blue.”
“Purple isn’t so different than blue,” Neasa said.
“It’s not the same, either. It just has to be different enough.”
“Where is it?” Neasa asked.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen it. Many years.”
“How far?” Neasa asked.
“It might be just ahead of us. Maybe a bit north.”
Neasa slumped down. “It’s forward, then.”
“But it might work,” Eloy said.
“He can’t travel anymore, Eloy,” Neasa said.
“But we can.” Eloy looked at Timyr.
“And you’re doing this out of selflessness? It just so happens that the solution to this problem is in line with what you want?” Neasa said.
“That’s not fair.”
Neasa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “If Timyr thinks he can find something to help, let’s do that. I’ll stay here with Mal.”
Timyr cleared his chest with a rattle like distant thunder. “If you can get him to move, I suggest you do. We’re in bad territory, and you should move closer to where trees are solid and life can take hold.”
Neasa looked at Malatic. “You’re right. We need to go back.”
Eloy put a hand on Neasa’s shoulder. “We’re going to find something to help him. If it’s out there, we’re going to find it.”
“If it’s out there.”
“We can’t find it if we don’t look.”
“Eloy, the man who is always looking,” Neasa said. “And can you look for two things at once?”