Page 54 of Lucie
Chapter Twenty-Six
Weakness
YulenpulledAttyinto his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She radiated excess heat, and sweat droplets dotted her skin. Her face was flushed, and when he looked into her eyes, he could see a slight glazing over. She was losing focus, a symptom he well remembered from the time he’d fallen victim to the virus, even though it was morethan two decades ago.
Lowering his face to her shoulder, he closed his eyes. The worst was yet to come. The pain, the feeling of suffocating with every breath she’d try to draw, the vomiting and loss of consciousness—his heart withered at the thought of what she would suffer.
Although there were some differences between howNormalsandMutahreacted to the disease,there were a few of the symptoms both peoples were forced to endure. The victim wouldn’t be able to lie down, or else they’d suffocate as their lungs filled with fluid. That’s what would inevitably kill them if they didn’t remain upright to cough up the crap. Or if a physician without the proper knowledge or skill to treatthemdidn’t routinely drain the fluid from their lungs.
But forMutah, it was worse. In addition to the pneumonia-like symptoms, their fevers would rage to the point of almost boiling their brains in their skulls, which was why so many who miraculously survived ended up mentally unbalanced. Or, as they’d been labeled, Damaged.
Unfortunately, it took a few days to discover whether aMutahwho survived the worst of the virus would come outof the ordeal with their minds fried. Until then, the patient had to be kept bound to his bed.
A week. After enduring the pain and fear this virus caused, if she lived, it would take another week before he’d know for certain whether she was intact or mentally insane.
Tears hitched inYulen’schest, and he kissed his wife’s hair.Attyclung to his shirt as she leanedon him. It had been years since he’d prayed. Tonight, he did so again. But this time, he swore to whatever deity still reigned above that he would gladly give his own life ifAtty’scould be saved. More so, if her sanity could be spared. The thought of her becoming one of the mentally enraged, who had no compunction about killing everyone within reach, was a future he couldn’t face. A DamagedMutahwould have few faculties left. Their instincts and uncanny abilities would force them into survival mode, leaving death and untold destruction in their wake.
IfAttysurvived, but wasDamagedas a result, he couldn’t order her killed, which was the standard way all other Damaged were dealt with. But she wouldn’t be the person she was. HisAtrilanwould never exist again. Herbody would continue to breathe, her heart would still beat, but the beautiful soul that was her would be as good as dead to him.
His own mind refused to consider the fact that his son was also infected. Within a day’s time, his youngest would be scourged by this damned disease.Yulenhad to accept the fact that, within a week, he could be taking two corpses home to AltaNovis.
He fought the pain tearing at his heart. The reality of losing both was too emotionally shattering.Attyand Lucien...
Attystruggled for breath. “It…hurts.”
“I know. I know, my love. Don’t fight it. Don’t struggle.” He could hear the fluid in her chest gurgling.
“Now I know what you were going through,” she whispered.
“Not really, myAtrilan. You’ll have it worse. You know you’ll have it worse.”
She managed a watery chuckle. “It seems to be my lot in life, being aMutah.”
“Why didn’t you admit to me you were feeling ill when we stopped to eat? Why did you try to hide it?” he gently admonished.
“I honestly didn’t know I was coming down sick. I thought it might be some sort of allergy. And Ididhave pepper fly up my nose.”
The door flap opened and Lucien walked in. He rushed over and dropped to his knees in front of his mother. Picking up her hand, he held it to his cheek. “I’m not going to ask how you’re feeling. I can tell by looking at you how bad it’s getting.” He glanced up at his father. “Please tell me we’re not going on to Schutz Ridge tomorrow. She shouldn’tbe riding.”
“I haven’t made that decision yet,”Yulentold him. A movement behind his son caught his attention. It wasJohna, keeping her distance to give the family some privacy.Yulenwaved for her to join them. She initially hesitated, but finally relented and took a seat behind Lucien.
“How does she look?” he asked the young woman.
Johnabarely glancedat Atty. “Like she’s on fire.”
Yulenburied his face in his wife’s hair to hide his distress.
“What’s holding you back?” his son asked softly. “There’s still time to take us back to AltaNovis.”
Yulenpaused. He never discussed tactics, much less his private thoughts, with anyone but Atty. In the past few years, he’d gotten to where he would open up toMattox, because it seemed his firstborn would be the one to take over the title of battle lord when he was gone, or no longer able to do the job. This time, however, he knew the time had come for him to bring Lucien into his exclusive inner circle of confidants.
Lifting his face, he sniffed. “I gave my word toHarankPechardwe’d try to help.” He didn’t look atJohna. He knew shewas listening. “If there’s a chance there are survivors, they have to be rescued.”
“What about Mom? What happens to her while you’re gone?”
Yulennoticed his son didn’t mention himself. Perhaps he’d forgotten he was also infected. Or maybe he felt his own well-being was secondary to his mother’s. This child had always been closer toAttythan their other two childrenever were. Maybe it was because of the miracle of his birth, andAtty’sextra nurturing to keep him alive, that a tighter bond had formed between the two.
Secondary.The word floated at the front of his mind.
