Page 180 of Tiger's Voyage
“Why is my skin so hot?”
“It could be a side effect.” Kishan offered.
Ren countered, “Or she could have a sunburn.”
I groaned and poked my arm. It turned white, then pink. “I vote sunburn. Where are we?”
“No idea.” Ren grunted, shifted, and then closed his eyes.
“Is there anything to eat? I could use some more water too if you have any.”
Kishan used the Golden Fruit to make tomato soup, which was nourishing, but not too heavy for our weakened bodies to handle. Then he instructed Ren and me to sleep while he kept watch. Kishan cradled me in his arms while my exhausted body obeyed.
It was dawn when I woke. I was lying on my side with my head resting on Kishan’s thigh. My hand was pressed against the cold, slick floor of the boat.Fiberglass? How had the Necklace produced that?Rubbing my hand back and forth against the smooth surface, I felt the sides of the boat curve up. Gingerly, I shifted my leg and felt only a twinge of pain.
“How are you feeling?” Ren asked softly.
“I feel … okay. Not going to be running any marathons today, but I’ll survive. Can’t sleep?”
“I traded off with Kishan an hour ago.”
I ran my hands over the outer edge of the craft and found the bumpy ridges on the outside. The center of the boat was a hot pink that faded to light pink and then alabaster around the outside. Kishan was asleep, an arm covering his eyes, as he rested in one of five vertical folds.
“It’s a giant clam shell,” Ren explained.
“It’s beautiful!”
He smiled. “Only you would find something beautiful in our situation.”
“That’s not true. A poet can always find something good to write about.”
“A poet doesn’t write only of beauty. Sometimes he writes of sorrow—of the ugly things in the world.”
“Yes, but you make even the bad things sound lovely.”
Ren sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe not this time.” He sat up with a determined expression. “We need to check your leg, Kells.”
I shook my head slightly. “Can’t we wait until we get back?”
“We don’t know how we’re getting back, and we need to watch for infection.”
I started hyperventilating. “I can’t.”
His expression softened. “You don’t have to look. Why don’t you tell me a story while I unwrap your bandages?”
“I … I can’t think of any. Ren, I’m scared. What if my leg falls off? What if it’s just a stub?”
“Can you wiggle your toes?”
“Yes. At least, it feels like I can, but that could be a phantom foot tricking me. I don’t want to lose it.”
“If that happens, we’ll deal with it. The important thing is you’re alive.”
“But I’d never walk normally again. How could I ever have a normal life? I’d be crippled forever.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? How could I help you finish the tasks? How could I—” My words cut off abruptly.
