The War of Six Crowns: The Vanished Knight

Fever Dreams

"I'll sit in with her," Kaela said from the doorway. "You can't spare the servant today."

The medic released a long sigh. "That will be wonderful. Thank you. May you be successful tonight."

"Thanks," Callan said.

Kaela nodded without expression. "I'll get us more water." She slipped out again.

Callan pulled the small table with the pitcher and basin closer and poured cool water over the rags inside. Her fingers grappled with one.

"What's his name?"

"Why, that's Quinlan Westenmere." The medic glanced up from his stirring. "Sorry. I forget you're not quite one of us."

Not quite, no. She wrung out the cloth and put it against Quinlan's dry forehead, biting her lip when his temperature burned right through.

The medic put the bowl of medicine down next to the basin. "Give this to him regularly through the night," he said and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I wish you all the best."

"Thanks."

The medic gave her a pat.

"Sorry," she said, halting him at the door. "Before you go...we went to this strange silver tree with black leaves. That's where he found us..."

The medic nodded. "He ate the leaves?"

"Yes."

"Probably saved his life," he said, closing the door behind him.

An oppressive silence filled the room, with only Quinlan's shallow breathing breaking it. Callan dipped the warm rag into the water and listened to the drops as she wrung it out. The door swung open, revealing Kaela on the other side with a bucket in each hand.

"So...this is what it's like to have someone's life in my hands," Callan whispered and put the compress against his face. "I don't like it."

"Yeah...it's never fun," Kaela agreed, lugging in the buckets.

"But you volunteered."

She put the buckets down and shrugged. "Selfishly. It's either him or hundreds of others."

Dread settled on Callan like a millstone around her neck. "What happened?"

"I don't know. Quin just said what's left of his company will follow behind him." Kaela took a seat next to Callan. She pulled the blanket down to his waist and bathed his chest. "I think it was an ambush."

Callan suppressed a shudder and dipped the rag again. Her gaze traveled from Quinlan's face to his chest and back. What sort of life did these people lead? He couldn't be much older than her, but his muscles were chiseled as if out of stone.

Kaela lowered the blanket farther, revealing the bandage around his middle. A long black stain stretched from his hip to lower ribs.

"Idiot probably didn't wait to have it properly treated," she muttered, bathing the newly exposed flesh. "Or their medic was killed."

Callan stared at Kaela in shock. "Um...shouldn't we be worried that the bloodstain is black?"

Kaela smiled gently. "Your ointment also went black where that sick man cut your face open. The leaves react with blood."

"Oh...the miracle cure."

"To an extent," Kaela said before Callan could be too relieved. "It can't always heal fast enough with cuts as deep as this. And it doesn't cure infections." She cursed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

"But it fused my bones."

"Yes," Kaela said, focusing on Quinlan's chest, "but you weren't about to die. All your other scrapes healed before you stopped feeling your ribs."

Callan nodded. "So the more serious the injury, the longer it takes to heal?"

"Right. If Quin didn't get stitches, he'd probably have bled to death regardless." Kaela set her jaw and dipped the rag again.

Callan peeked at her for a second before focusing her efforts to cool his skin. For someone who wasn't willing to take lives in her hands, Kaela sure handled it well.

Her own insides quivered at the thought of failure.

His teeth chattered and a tremor shot through his body. Callan kept going. This wasn't the first fever she'd sat through. More than a few of her foster siblings had caught flus and chicken pox and so on. This was the first time someone would most likely die despite her efforts, though.

She tried to coax Quinlan to drink the medic's brew, but it took Kaela's help to get some down. After that, they fell into an uneasy silence broken only when Quinlan needed medicine.

Hours dragged into the night. Their patient didn't improve.

At some point, Callan dropped the rag into the basin and rubbed a hand down her face. Her back ached. She pushed herself to her feet and poured the last clean water from their stock.

"I'll go fetch us some more," Kaela offered, standing, "and find out what's going on outside while I'm at it."

Callan nodded, pressing her knuckles to her lower back. The silence after Kaela left filled her with desolation. She continued to fight Quinlan's fever. This time, her doubts weren't as easy to shake off. His shallow breathing wouldn't let her put aside her worry. A quick touch to his forehead confirmed her worst fear.

He was slipping from her grasp.

She drew her fingers through her hair and took the compress from his forehead. After placing a newly wet one over his face, she took a few steps away to ease her cramping muscles. Quinlan mumbled something and she rushed to his bedside. He shook the compress off, muttering words she couldn't understand. Bad. She threw the cloth into the basin and tried to get him to drink more medicine. His brows knitted and he spat it out. He swung his head to and fro, babbling softly.

"Come on," she whispered, lifting his head again, fighting a losing battle to hold onto hope.

"No," he moaned, and blinked open his eyes. His stare was so full of hatred Callan released his head. "Bastard."

"Shh." She forced a deep breath to her lungs and wrung out the rag.

His eyes glinted, glazed with fever. She put the compress to his head.

He grabbed her throat and squeezed.

Blood roared in her ears. Callan scratched at his fingers and hit his arm, but his grip only tightened. She kicked against the bed frame in an attempt to free herself. No air made it to her lungs.

His furious shouts pushed through the noise in her head. "You won't kill me!"

She couldn't choke the denial out and struggled to pry his grip loose. Her hands went limp on his. Her vision faded.

Eep! How will Callan get out of this scrape? 

Come back tomorrow to find out. In the meantime, please don't forget to vote. :-)