She met his gaze, biting back the frustrated tension rising within herself. "You invaded my country and killed people. You threatened me. Tortured me. In most of the more intense moments in this past week, you have been the biggest threat in the room. So I don't feel betrayed or let down. You aren't my protector. But we shouldn't even be having this conversation right now. Your family is on a countdown, and I'm not the one who needs you right now."
He didn't flinch from holding her gaze, but sorrow and guilt radiated off him like sunlight on water. "We will speak of it later then."
What more was there to say on it? Ordinarily she did not mind talking, but the words dried in her mind. She nodded then. "Later."
"If it becomes too much for you—" he started.
"I know. And I also know that your brothers may need you. I'll be fine here."
"I'm not leaving you," he said tightly. "And if WroOth sounds the alarm, we are both leaving at once."
"AaQar isn't doing well, is he?"
His chiseled jaw tightened, and a muscle jumped along his cheek. "He will be well."
"I'm not saying he won't be. But I'm fine here. I'm dealing with something that you can't help me with. AaQar on the other hand could—"
"If you convince me to leave, you're coming too."
He was a tight line of tension and anger, all ready to snap. She drew her hands over her face and nodded wearily. "Fine. I'll be in there." Continuing to rub her forehead, she returned once more to the cavern. The dolmaths continued to sleep, no longer disturbed.
It took a moment for her to bring her beloved four tarantulas back to her thoughts. More memories unfolded as she focused on them. They quieted the ache in her head and throughout her body.
Until she had come here, it felt as if it had been years since she had thought of them. "I put those memories aside because they hurt so much," she whispered. "And it was a long time ago. Or so it seemed. But… I learned this once. I'll learn it again." She crouched down beside the sleeping dolmaths. "You all aren't so bad, are you? You didn't know you were putting everyone to sleep so they could be executed. And it's not your fault what you look like."
They continued to sleep. She tried to touch the nearest one but had to pull her hand back, shuddering. Those spasms of fear dug their claws into her again and again. At most, she touched a few strands of the velvety hair and had to fall back.
She clenched her eyes shut.
Mistake.
The hook-fanged spiders surged up.
She tried to push against the images. To control what they showed. To envision herself conquering them and surviving, not simply because she was rescued but because she could somehow.
Her mind ached.
Time to start the cycle again.
Again and again, she played it through. Expanding the space. Rewriting it. Trying to put her hand on the dolmath's furry back. Each time she tried, it felt as if she staggered back a few steps and had to fight forward.
* * *
Naatos watched her return to the dolmath den, his arms at his sides. Why was it so hard to let her go this time? How wretched were these feelings?
If there was one thing he had to admit though, it was that she was brave. She hesitated for a moment at the mossy entrance. Then, with a hand that trembled a little, she pressed the strands back and disappeared inside.
He drew his hand over his brow.
Everything was falling apart. He should have brought the bracelet so he could finish it. Would there be time? He had hours of work left. Cursed magic required so much focus and intent it was impossible to rush any more than he was.
He resumed working on the spikes for the palisade wall. They would have to do a modified structure if they wanted to provide sufficient protection. There wasn't going to be time to finish all of it. Not at this rate. Besides, they needed regular gaps so they could get in and out with the flexibility Ecekom frequently required.
He worked faster, slashing through the wood and sending shavings, bark, and wood flying. From time to time, he glanced up at the entrance to the dolmath den. No sounds came from inside, but he smelled her. That tang of adrenaline, the biting acridness of fear, the slightly sweeter but almost nonexistent pulse of relief that occasionally surfaced. At a couple points, there was the slightly citrus-like scent of a happy memory. But it was so faint that it could have been his imagination.
His sense of smell had always been excellent, but it was getting clearer and stronger with Amelia. The connection between them was enhanced through the Neyeb bond, and it allowed him to better recognize her tells. Not that it had helped him fix things. Not yet at least.
He set down the newest finished spike and reached for another arm-thick branch. He paused as he noted something distinctly grey-blue tucked almost out of sight in the fork of a chiron oak just beyond the forest's edge. Could it be?
He set the post down and sheathed his knife, then crossed toward it, his steps smooth but cautious.
Death sorrel was almost impossible to find at this time of year and in this climate. Yet it was one of the most essential ingredients, not only for the serum, but for reconstituting the healing capacity. If anything could help them to push past the ilzinium overload, it was that.
He glanced back at the cavern where Amelia remained with the dolmaths. It would take less than ten minutes to remove the death sorrel while keeping the most vital pieces intact. Delicate work.
Nothing suggested that any predators had changed their perspectives on dolmaths here. And the likelihood of a young creegha slipping out from its nest to get inebriated was low. Even if one did come, it wasn't as if she would intervene. She hadn't even been able to touch a dolmath the night before.
This was too good a chance to pass up. Especially since mantises and other arboreal creatures loved death sorrel. Even a delay of ten minutes could result in its loss.
He picked up his pace, hoping Amelia wouldn't prove difficult this time around. He climbed the tree with ease, swiftly making his way to the target limb. His breath snagged in his chest as relief poured through him.
This was no weak and withered growth of death sorrel. If he believed in miracles, he might have called this one. An entire network of the rare plant flourished in the crook of the branch, the thick waxy leaves healthy and full, clustered tight around the stems. The bitter scent brought more relief than he had ever expected. Removing his hunting knife, he set to work detaching the roots from the coarse bark.
Once started, he had to stay with it to keep the death sorrel from releasing venom up through its roots into the leaves and stems. This one was going to be more complicated due to its size and strength. But it wouldn't take long.
* * *
Amelia gritted her teeth and clenched her fists. She pushed back against the cavern wall.
The little indigo-banded dolmath had moved across from her foot, not touching her but watching her through half-lidded eyes that drooped from moment to moment.
On and on the cycle went. Each time she made the boundaries or the wall or created space for the dolmaths, it folded in, returning to the images of the hook-fanged spiders and requiring her to go back to the tarantulas.
She was close. She could feel it. But it wouldn't come into focus or stay in place.
Biting her lip, she cast her gaze about the cavern. Time was passing. Far too quickly and with too little progress.
Soft footsteps sounded outside the entrance. Cautious. Hesitant.
Amelia stiffened, her hand dropping to her dagger.
A long hooked-beak pressed through the silver-green moss.
Her heart thundered faster. It was almost prehistoric, the shining black tip and yellow hood like something from the Cenozoic era.
Slowly the long-necked bird entered the cavern entrance. Its sleek grey feathers glistened in the afternoon light. Its orange eyes rimmed with black and its dark pupils lined with yellow. It reminded her of a cross between an abnormally large heron and a terror bird.
"Creeegha."
Its dry voice rattled like a shaky door moving on rusted hinges. It tilted its head as it eyed her.
Only a threat if it came in a pack? It was easily taller than her based on the length of that neck.
She eased the dagger out of its sheath.
"Creegha." The large bird darted forward and snatched up the dark-banded dolmath.
The dolmath immediately woke, and it let loose a torrent of chirps and chirrs. The others woke and scrambled backward, disappearing deeper and deeper into the cavern as the captured dolmath struggled.
The creegha bird snapped its neck out from the cavern, vanishing from sight.
Her mouth fell open. "Hey!" she exclaimed. "Give that dolmath back!"
Staggering forward, she emerged from the cavern. The bright light blinded her momentarily as she lifted her hand.
The creegha had turned to face her, its head cocked violently to the side as it regarded her with confusion and animosity. It uttered a deep throaty creegha sound, then bobbed its head. The dolmath writhed, its legs flailing as it tried to push free.
A large pile of wooden spikes, each taller than her, lay on the ground, woodchips, bark, and shavings scattered across the low-growing grass. She grabbed the nearest one and wielded it like a bat. "Put it down."
The creegha backed up, lowering its head, still keeping it to the side so it could see her. A long hiss rattled up from its sizable throat.
She kept to the side of it, moving to compensate each time it stepped directly in front of her. If it attacked like an ostrich, those heavily clawed feet were going to be more of a problem than the beak which was currently occupied.
"Amelia, what are you doing?" Naatos's voice bellowed in from the forest, a decent distance away based on the sound.
"It's got a dolmath!"
"Leave it alone. It's not interested in you."
The creegha hissed, then shrieked. "Creegha!"
"It's going to kill the dolmath."
"Of course it is." Branches rustled in a tree farther on the edge of the forest line. "Get away from it."
The creegha hissed again, its beak tightening around the dolmath. The furry blue creature squeaked with terror.
Lunging forward, she struck the bird in the neck with the long side of the spike.
The creegha fell back with an angry choked cry. It dropped the dolmath.
Amelia adjusted her grip on the wooden spike, preparing to defend herself. Instead of running back to the den though, the dolmath dodged between her legs. It tapped at her ankles and scurried around, trembling.
The creegha hissed again. It twisted its head again, its eyes narrowing. With an angry squawk, it fluffed its wings and snapped its neck out again.
"Crespa, woman! What are you doing?"
As the creegha circled, Amelia compensated as well, keeping it to the side. She lashed out again with the long side of the spike. "Go away! Go on, get!"
The weapon connected with the creegha's neck, and it staggered back again, shaking its head.
The dolmath darted between her feet, almost tripping her. Something clicked inside her mind. Stooping, she snatched it up with one arm. Her grip on the spike wasn't as secure, but at least her feet were steady.
The rustling tree's foliage parted as Naatos leaped out, spear in one hand and an enormous bushy trailing grey-blue plant in the other.
The creegha bolted backward, its feathers fluffing up as it drew its neck back. It uttered another loud squawk.
Amelia dropped the spike and moved back, both arms wrapping around the dolmath instinctively.
Turning, it fled.
"What were you thinking?" Naatos demanded, crossing in front of her.
The dolmath recoiled against her, chirring and purring now as it tapped at her neck.
"I don't—I didn't want it to die. WroOth said they just kill them to get high, and it didn't deserve that." She tilted her head as her gaze dropped to the plant. "What's that?"
"Death sorrel." He half lifted it, his expression a mixture of confusion and irritation. "If you had left it alone, you wouldn't have been at risk at all. Do you understand how foolish that was? You could have been disemboweled! And—" He stopped short, blinking. "You're holding it."
She stiffened, realizing this fact for the first time as well. The blue-furred spider-like creature purred louder now, its large blue eyes sliding shut like a contented tabby.
Her heart pounded, but each second played back through her mind. She had chosen to run after it. She had chosen to grab it. She had chosen to drive off the creegha bird. Her sleeves had rolled back, leaving the scars and the sensitive-skin exposed. The fur rested against those as well.
"Amelia." He drew closer, his brow arched and his expression contemplative. The guarded tenseness of his posture suggested he wasn't sure how to respond to this, but the anger and fear had evaporated. "Are you all right?"
She nodded. The weight of the creature in her arms was little more than a cat. And there were no claws in the little paws that it placed against her chest. The shock spread through her as well.
"Do you want me to take it?"
"No." Her arms tightened around it as her heart beat fast. "No. I've got it." The hook-fanged spiders weren't taking over anymore. They were distinct. Her skin crawled a little at the memories, and if she focused, they would certainly come racing back with all their terror. But for now, the dolmath and her beloved four were separate and clear.
Stooping down, she released it. The dolmath rubbed against her ankles and then scurried back into the cavern. "Will the creegha return?"
"Possibly, but the dolmaths have moved deeper. They were much too close to the entrance to begin with." He studied her with an expression almost akin to admiration. "They have acted as if they have not been around many sentients for a long time. At least not Vawtrians. They sometimes get over eager to return and become careless. That one is a young one."
Amelia peeked inside the cavern and saw that they had indeed withdrawn far enough inside that nothing could reach any of them without stepping on the ropy webs. Indeed, she couldn't see much more than a vague outline far, far down the tunnel's mouth.
"Do you want to go back in?" Naatos asked.
"No. I think that's enough for now. They'll be out at dusk. Anyway, that plant is important. You need to get it back to camp, don't you?" She pushed her hair out of her face, a vaguely euphoric sense rushing through her. She didn't wait for him to answer before she started moving toward the camp.
"What changed?" Naatos walked alongside her.
"I don't know—I just—it changed." She glanced up at him, managing to smile faintly. "I couldn't let it die."
"That's an unfortunate habit you have."
"Maybe." She chewed on the inside of her lip. Her head still pounding, she rubbed the back of her neck, but the sense of relief throughout the rest of her body was intense. And as she walked, she almost reached out to hold his hand.
28
Another Night
The camp could have smelled like a slaughterhouse. As it was, it smelled more of woodsmoke and firs. Especially as AaQar added leaves and fir needles to the fire. It helped that the wind blew against them as well, and the carcasses hung out over a river that surged and carried everything away.
QueQoa rested in the trench, WroOth beside him, trying to feed him.
AaQar looked up from the fire, a crude mortar and pestle sitting on the log beside him and a small pile of different greens at his feet.
Amelia did not want to talk about the dolmaths any further. The odd euphoric sense of relief since she'd held the blue creature remained, pulsing through her like a current.
Naatos remained silent until WroOth greeted him. Then he lifted the death sorrel, and they all responded with weary happiness.
She didn't realize how far she had passed from the conversation until she realized she was sitting on a log with a plate of the roasted meat in one hand and a water canteen at her feet. No one else seemed to have noticed fortunately, and he
r thoughts drifted once more to the events in the cavern. She needed to sleep that night.
They ate. Then Naatos and WroOth went to work on the barriers around the camp. AaQar continued to show Amelia how to work with the Ecekom herbs and roots. The death sorrel he handled with particular care. But that wasn't the only reason he moved slowly.
While he plucked, she tended to the smokehouse and coarse-chopped more meat to add to the broth and thicken it.
He had only plucked two handfuls of the buds and leaves from the blue stems before he passed the death sorrel and its bowl to her. "Keep your fingers moving swiftly. Don't hold it long. If your fingertips start to burn, wash your hands and wait until the burning passes."
She slid into place beside him and took up the task. She'd spent hours shelling peas and snapping beans with Uncle Joe in the summer. It was a simple but pleasant task to occupy the mind.
The heaviness remained over the camp. Every so often, she heard Naatos or WroOth coughing in the distance. QueQoa coughed as well. His fever burned high. The willow bark tea served a similar function to aspirin, and AaQar assured her that it wasn't something she could overdose him on. Or any Vawtrian for that matter other than a child. Neyeb, on the other hand, he wasn't so certain.
"I've put as much as I can recall of the serum's care and formulation in your tablet," AaQar said at last. "Naatos knows it as well. He can look for gaps. If it works at all. This sorrel smells and feels different from what we once had. Some adjustments may be needed to get it to work. But it's just getting hard to think."
"Do you need to rest?"
"Soon that is all I will be doing." He leaned forward, holding his head. "The most important part is to seal it and let it ferment for ten days. Administer the serum in the soup. It will smell like death."
"But it will help?" She kept her fingers moving fast. Her eyes burned but only with fatigue. The sharp bitter scent of the death sorrel intensified each time she bruised one of the beads on the outside of the broad leaves, but her fingers were fine so far.
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