Page 107 of Shadows and Flames
“It’s gone too long, Nogón. I don’t—” Tomás curled up off the bed as a series of coughs wracked his frame. Fenix appeared at my side, holding out a cloth for the Lylithan to use, and I thanked him for his assistance. I still kept my palms to Tomás’s chest, doing my best to fight back the sticky tar that was coating the insides of his lungs.
When he settled back onto the mattress, he was sweating more than I was, and he crushed the rag into his fist. But I saw the droplets of black before he was able to hide it away.
Two steaming mugs materialized on the small table beside Tomás’s bed, and when I tore my eyes away from him, I saw my cousin retreat back to stand beside her Shadow. His face looked as it always did, but she was rubbing soothing circles on his back, as if comforting him.
“I made that tea you taught me,” she said, still not looking at me. I could smell the pungent scent of ginger. The brew was simple yet effective for a myriad of illnesses, and since we did not know exactly what sort of sickness this was, it shouldn’t hurt. Nothing seemed to be making Tomásworse. Nothing seemed to be making him better, either.
“Thank you.”
She nodded, but her attention was on the male beside her. Soleil’s father.
The night he was born, I was heavily preoccupied with instructing Meline through the birth, something I’d only done a handful of times, and ensuring she stayed alive.
My inability to save Soleil would be my greatest failure, one that haunted me for the rest of my days. But, I kept that to myself, breathing through the tightening within my own lungs as I tore my eyes away from Elián. Even as a newborn, Soleil had looked strikingly similar to his father.
Fenix helped me reposition Tomás so he was sitting upright and able to drink the brew that would hopefully provide a bit of relief. Were she not afraid of worsening his condition, I would have asked Meline again to try and take my place for a spell. Her cursory knowledge of healing left her able to make the salves and medicines that provided some relief to Tomás’s symptoms.
Where was Cera? The view beyond the small window to my left revealed a black night and stars dimmed by the city lights. Surely two hours had passed. At least.
Tomás accepted the teacup extended to him by Fenix with a sneer. Not because he was a Vyrkos, but because he’d assumed Tomás couldn’t get it himself. The whole act had grown very tiresome at this point.
Fenix curled his lip right back, dropping his fangs. “I’m only trying to help, you ungrateful imbecile.”
“Oh, really? Helping me out of the goodness of your heart?” Tomás asked with brows raised high as he took a small sip from his cup. He smacked his lips and went back in for another.
I monitored his body’s reaction through the connection between us, and I detected the settling of his stomach and the minute relaxation of his muscles. The infection remained unaffected.
Fenix grumbled and stood, stomping out of the room before I could thank him again for his help. He’d more than paid us back for saving him on the ship to Vharas, so I was unsure why he had accompanied us this long. To another world and back, at that.
Because we needed him to feed Tomás when we first returned to Vyrland, I’d stopped questioning his intentions.
A knock on the door rang over the back and forth Tomás and Elián resumed, worrying about the lack of response from their sister and ward, beginning to plan a return that Tomás was certainly not well enough for. He needed time to rest before even thinking on embarking on another journey. To wherever the Shadow Well was.
Lemon, rosemary, mint, and jasmine. My shoulders drooped as I recognized Cera’s arrival. “There is a Vyrkos sulking in the corridor,” she said to no one in particular.
“Oh, I’m sure he is,” Tomás said weakly, voice vibrating against my hands. Somehow, he still maintained the same level of sarcasm as when he’d been well.
“Hm, Master Elián. Hello,” Cera purred, and a deep, warning hiss stole my attention.
My cousin bared her fangs and stood purposefully between her Shadow and the High Priestess who was now dressed in less formal garb. Her short top and trousers were those of any other Rhaean priestess. She’d not shed the gold accoutrements, though.
“You are here to heal his brother, not ogle Elián.”
“Who said anything about ogling?” Cera asked while giving him an exaggerated once-over.
“He is mine, and you’re wasting time,” Meline growled while Elián looked down at her with the fire in his stare brightening.
Cera swept further into the room, coming toward Tomás and me. “Yours, you say? That is certainly not new. My congratulations.”
“And you are?” Tomás asked, skepticism leeching into the air.
Cera did not rise to match his tone. She simply sat on the edge of the bed, beside me, and fluttered her tattooed fingers before his face. “The High Priestess of Rhaea. Best healer in the realm.”
“Well, I was bitten by something not of this realm, so.”
I glared, trying to communicate silently for him to shut the fuck up, but he blatantly ignored me in favor of taking his frustration out on the best chance he had of recovering.
As abrasive as I’d known her to be, Cera had undoubtedly dealt with irascible patients. “Explain,” she commanded and began to slowly wave an assessing hand over Tomás’s form. Her fingers splayed wide, and the markings on her three fingers started to glow the same color as under my palms.
