Page 38 of The Garnet Daughter
It’s a relief I could fold to a destination this time after traveling so far, when it took days to recover the first time. The exhaustion is still heavy on my shoulders and eye sockets, but with each breath, I can feel myself recovering faster, the promise of privacy expediting the process.
“Calliape.” August’s voice startles me. “Calliape, are you there?”
The voice is muffled by Viathan technology, and it takes a moment for my body to accept he is not here in the cockpit with me.
The comm in front of his pilot’s chair is blinking, an indicator I have grown to recognize.
“If you are there, press the yellow button,” he instructs.
I pause and then tap the shining gold button, sure it’s correct. “There is no yellow button on this thing, only gold.”
“Well, it looks like you found it.” There is a smile in his voice.
“How did you know I folded here?”
“Lucky guess, and I hoped.”
It’s silent for a long while as I climb into his pilot’s chair.
“You can stay there for the night, on the ship. It’s locked,” he offers. “I can leave you alone. I’m sure you are sick of me after so many days trapped on Frith together.”
I can’t help but smile because I almost miss the simplicity of it, working on the beacon and trapping our food each night.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. I’m getting as far away from the Estate as possible. Even the statues in the hallways creep me out. Press the nonexistent yellow button if you need anything.”
I settle into his large chair, more comfortable than the ones around it. The room is always slightly chilly, but for some reason, my face feels hot, and a thin layer of sweat speckles my forehead. I noticed it during the council meeting, but now that the adrenaline is no longer surging through my system, I can guess the cause for my new symptoms. I place my forearm on the armrest and slowly peel the layers of gauze from my wound. They stick and rip at the skin, the dull throb turning into searing pain.
The sweat on my forehead drips down my face. I left the salve Ruth gave me behind on Frith, the ache I have been dulling for days is now fully in bloom.
When I peel off the last layer of bandage, my stomach turns at the sudden release of no longer having it tightly bound, the feverish pain surging through me.
The wound looks much worse than before and is infected. If it’s not treated soon, it will spread. I have seen similar infections quickly take limbs. I can’t tell if the shortness of breath is from the fever or the sudden panic.
I press the button on the comm, hoping August is still there.
“August!”
“Here.”
“Can you come to the ship?” I steady myself, resolving that I need help and his is the only one I will accept right now. “I need you here.”
Chapter
Fourteen
Ilay my face against the cold side of the cargo hull wall, waiting for August to make his way to the safe house hangar. He stays on the comm the entire walk from the Estate, narrating as he weaves through the city and commenting on the strange people he sees. All the while making me check in every few minutes to keep me talking, as if he thinks I am dying.
If my arm wasn’t burning as if freshly scorched, then maybe I could fold him here, but he was already headed to the landing docks, planning to stay on the fleet ship to give me space.
Finally, the door whirls to life and descends into a ramp, August commanding it from just outside. He practically sprints up the metal incline before it’s fully down.
“Here!” he shouts, out of breath like he ran most of the distance.
“The Frithian herbs have worn off.” I raise my exposed wound, wincing as he places gentle palms under it to help hold it, and the pain goes all the way up to my shoulder.
His eyes are wide as they run the length. “By the three worlds, Calliape, I had no idea it was this bad.”
