Page 63 of Master
“Go home, clean yourself, eat and rest. Take care of your child.”
A faint moan drew my attention from the pair totting away toward Clara. Her face scrunched in worry, her shoulders shaking as tears fell from her eyes, as furious as the earlier torrent of rain.
“Clara?” I gathered her against my chest. She buried her face in the dampness of my shirt, clinging to me, trembling.
“I can’t help thinking how scared she must have been,” Clara sobbed. “How helpless and powerless she must have felt trying to protect her daughter.”
"We'll protect them. It's a promise," I offered, knowing her tears were as much for the grief over her own daughter as this unknown child. Pulling her close, I cradled her head against my chest, offering a comforting murmur. Errant drops splashed from a gray sky; nature not content to let her cry alone.
“What’s going on?”
The shock of another voice broke us apart. We turned in unison to find Buck standing a few feet away. He looked rumpled, face and hair mottled by dirt and leaves. He swayed on his feet while rubbing his temples, but the pale blue eyes were clear.
“Buck!” Clara darted toward him.
"Buck, are you well?” I moved between Clara and the male, watching him squint at us. I would allow Clara no closer until I determined Buck was no threat.
"I—I think so." He rubbed a finger between his brows. "Got a heck of a headache. Ya'll seen Lula?"
Clara and I shared a guilty glance.
"She's at Mei's house resting," I said. It wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth.
"Where have you been, Buck?" Clara led us all to a nearby bench. Buck sagged tiredly onto the seat, the wet wood giving a painful creak. Clara perched beside him, gingerly laying her fingers against his forehead and cheeks. I recognized the touch from watching our healer, Hakkar, work. Buck blushed, embarrassed by her ministrations.
“I woke up in the greenhouse,” Buck chuckled. "I went to water the plants, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up face down in the sweet tater vines, feeling like I'd been on a four-day drunk. Guess I was more tired than I thought.”
As carefully as Clara had touched his forehead, I laid my hand on Buck’s shoulder.
“You weren't tired, my friend.”
Buck raised his head, the humor on his face dying as he met my gaze.
“What happened?”
Somehow, I knew this news would be better coming with a soft touch. I nodded to Clara, and she reached for Buck's hand, clasping it tightly as she explained the last few days' events. I chimed in only when necessary to offer a more detailed explanation of the drug.
“Lula?”
It was the first word he uttered. I understood it. Clara was foremost on my mind… always.
“We sent her to rest at Mei’s house,” Clara said, squeezing his hand. "She's infected, Buck."
He jumped to his feet, tall for a human, but still a head shorter than I stood.
"What does that mean?" His long, thin fingers wrung against each other. "Will she die?"
All the intricacies of Lula's condition sped through my mind. How could I tell him that although she would live, the woman he loved was gone, her every future interaction with him governed by another? It made me sick.
“She’s safe and resting,” Clara assured him, her words calming. “We just need to figure out a way to get her and the others out from under the influence of mumje.”
“How do we do that? His gaze flickered from Clara in the direction of Mei’s cottage.
“A good start is to figure out why the drug didn’t affect you like everyone else,” Clara suggested. Her violet gaze shot tome for a moment before she asked. “Can you tell me exactly what you were doing when the mumje fell?”
Buck frowned, rubbing furiously at the spot between his eyes.
“I was in the greenhouse.” He said the words slowly, forcing them from memory to tongue. “I’d just grabbed the hose to give the sweet tater vines a drink when I heard what sounded like rain hitting the roof.”
