The Hunters of Sian

A New Plan

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

A New Plan

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The hard wind that had started the day before carried on through the night and was still howling when Nell woke. He sat up stiffly. He had been too terrified to move in case he jostled the demon beside him. He looked down miserably at Sallos, his heart stuck in his dry throat.

The man had not even stirred.

As if to reassure himself, Nell leant forward and placed his ear carefully on the hunter's chest. He let out a shaky breath at the sound of the deep slow heartbeat. He was still alive. Nell wished that he could find this more encouraging.

Was this normal? Did demons heal faster when asleep? Was he getting worse? Should Nell try and wake him?

He was angry with himself, angry that he had never bothered to learn any of this. He had never even thought to ask Mistress Arabella if the medicine they were learning about could be used the same way on their demon masters. He knew that demons were more resistance to the diseases that often plagued mankind, but that didn't mean they couldn't be injured. Nell had no base of comparison for what was happening.

As Nell stared down at the man, he felt the world dim a little. Suddenly he was much smaller and the figure in the bed was smaller too. Soft, more feminine and the world outside was autumn leaves instead of deep snow. He remembered rubbing her hand and feeling how cold and rigid it was. Nell shook his head and the image of his mother faded. He couldn't go to pieces like this. Not if they were going to make it through this winter.

Nell stood and began to make it through the morning rounds as he normally would, but his heart just wasn't in it. He made the morning meal but forgot to eat it. He went out to the dracks to check on them and take in the day's firewood. He started his exercise, but everything seemed much harder. He was so much more aware of the lack of sound. It hadn't bothered him before now. Never had a day lasted so long. He carefully checked, cleaned, and rewrapped the Sallos' wound and climbed into bed beside him for another long restless night.

This continued into the second day which crawled along in the same agonising silence. Nell went outside several times simply to give himself something to do but he was too afraid of the blackness and swirling snow to try and mount Thorn and go looking for quilldeer.

Driven back inside by cold, Nell trudged over to the mismatched bowls. He hadn't cleaned them after his last few meals. He dragged over the bucket of water and started to wash up, his fingers pink with cold.

A noise rattled from behind him.

The sound made Nell start violently, nearly dropping the dish. He spun around, barely daring to breathe. A moment passed and then another. Just as Nell was beginning to think he had been imagining things, he heard it again and it definitely sounded like a groan. Abandoning the dishes, he rushed over to Sallos' side. The man shifted and finally opened his eyes.

'Sallos,' Nell choked, sounding as though he had swallowed down a mouthful of rot gut gin. Sallos blinked weakly, eyes not yet focusing in on Nell's face. The demon moved again and this time the groan came out pained.

'You shouldn't move too much, you're still healing,' Nell spluttered, hovering anxiously over the bed. His master blinked several more times.

'Nell?' His voice was even worse than Nell's. Nell rushed to grab the man a cup of water, nearly slopping it over the blankets in his rush. Sallos took a few sips before slumping back into the pillow with a harsh breath.

'You...you've been asleep for a few days,' Nell croaked. Sallos seemed to take this in slowly. Nell put the cup down and fussed over the blankets.

'Are you warm enough?' He didn't sound remotely like himself, his voice too high and his movements too jerky.