Page 62 of The Demon's Fire
She drew shallow puffs of air, her fist to her mouth, while she struggled with the pain. The rash on her skin spread, seeming to eat away at her flesh.
Kole lifted her, cradling her, racing in a straight line toward the Sardasian Stones. When he stumbled, he righted himself without falling. When a bush was in his way or when a large pothole dipped down in front of him, he jumped over them. When his legs and arms grew tired, he shook off the fatigue. He was possessed. His single obsession was to get Skyler to safety before nightfall and make her as comfortable as possible.
Once he reached the boulders, he found an area where a massive stone had fallen across others, creating a cave-like protected shelter. He leaned Skyler against a rock to remove his backpack. As the sun set, he gathered small twigs and grasses, making thick piles, laying a blanket on top. He moved Skyler to the more comfortable spot.
Next, he collected wood. Shooting a stream of fire from his hand, he lighted the sprigs and bigger branches. Since they were inside a covered area, it would not attract much attention.
Curled, her knees tucked tight on her makeshift mattress, Skyler watched. “Nice trick.” Her voice was weak.
“It’s handy.” He put water into a collapsible pan and set it on the fire. When it was hot, he poured it into a dried dinner pouch. Sitting behind Skyler, he pulled her upright against his chest.
“Smells good. What is it?” Kole caught a shudder of pain when she winced.
He didn’t understand her response to kas nettle. Stinging hairs had penetrated his exposed skin, but he had nothing to show. Skyler was having a serious reaction. Maybe demons had immunity from the bush’s chemicals. Or humans were allergic to it.
He looked at the label. “Yak stew. Butchered and dried on Scath.”
Skyler scooped a bite out of the bag. “Hmm. Good. Your turn.” She held a spoonful out for Kole.
“Just what I had in mind for dinner.” After he snatched a morsel, he handed the utensil back to her.
Skyler waved the spoon at Kole after taking another mouthful herself. “I had a dream while you were carrying me. Strangest. Chay, the Firebrand ylve I met at the ball … I believe his name was Chay … was in a prison with a beautiful redheaded woman. Why would I dream about him?”
She offered a spoon of yak stew to Kole again. The simple gesture while she was in pain made his blood boil, his heart clang against his ribs like a cymbal. He reached for water, giving another bottle to Skyler, who gulped it down.
Kole felt her forehead. “Hot. You have a fever. I think your wounds are infected.” He touched a few of the more serious ones.
“Ouch.” When he opened her shirt wider at the neck, she slapped his hand. “Keep away from the private parts.”
Kole raised his arms in surrender. “I’m certain infection is setting in. The rash has spread. The Healing Pond is this side of Spriggan Enclave. A slight detour but necessary. When we get there, you can bathe in the pond to disinfect the wounds. Once that’s done, I’ll cauterize them. They’ll heal rapidly afterward.”
“It sounds painful.”
“Not as painful as death.”
Skyler shivered, running her hands along her arms. “I’m cold. Cold and tired. I’ll just close my eyes for a while.”
Kole slipped away, covered her with another blanket and two jackets. Still, she trembled. After dousing the fire, he stretched out beside her, wrapping her tight against him, rolling a little heat through his body. The nettles were acting like poison. She could die.
Groaning but snuggling into Kole’s warmth, Skyler flipped around to face him. “I can’t sleep. I hurt. A thousand sharp knives are cutting me at once.”
“I wish I could help, Frisca. Will talking take your mind off the pain?”
“Maybe. What about?”
“You told the healer you knew of your Aeternal ancestor.”
She winced. “Family history. That’s substituting one pain for another. Our ugly story comes in bits and pieces. Some was written in journals. Some was told in second-hand accounts. None of it is pretty.”
He stroked the back of his fingers along her feverish cheek, wishing he could take away her discomfort. “What else do we have to do?”
****
Jacerested the worn book on her chest.The Pathfluttered closed when she shut her eyes. She and Celene lay in bed, dressed only in lightweight pajamas, not having eaten since they began the hunger strike several days ago. She sighed, brushing aside thoughts of food, opening the volume again.
“I was thumbing through our favorite book last night when I found some great parables. This Ohngel guy is a hunky winged warrior and a thinker. Do you want me to read a few?”
“No. Not feeling it.” Celene rolled to her side, propping herself on an elbow.
