Chapter 8
The day was bright, she'd just finished literally all her books that she had on that room and before going on another book run, she decided that she was going to visit the others, to see how they were doing.
Sersi and Sprite told her about the joys of British life (and British tea, of course), Thena and Gilgamesh were now in a very nice place in the middle of Australia where she could run at any given speed and there would be no one to be surprised or just wonder what the hell was that blur and Kingo gave her a role in one of movies, the one about killing zombies.
But as usual, she was saving the best for last.
Druig... sometimes he looked like he was too content in his little colony place, and she felt bad disrupting his peace. Sure, they had written letters, and then telegrams and he's said that she was welcome any time (the others he would have to think about it - but her, he didn't) but sometimes, maybe she was being paranoid, but she felt that maybe she was bringing bad memories with her, of when they "broke up" and no one followed him, no one spoke up for him.
She felt quite a lot of regret for that, of guilt. She hadn't wanted him to leave alone, and she did agree with some of the things he'd said, but Ajak had never led them ashtray, right? She'd guided them through the world, healed them every time they got hurt. Speaking out would mean being at odds with everyone... She hadn't known what to say, how to say, and so she hadn't.
But still, she occasionally went to see how he was doing. He didn't seem to have any ill will towards her (not much for the others, either - he still thought they were wrong, but there was no hatred in his words) and always prepared little plans for them to do together. The best for last, indeed.
But this time, when she went there, he was nowhere to be seen on his usual quarters. She actually couldn't find him in any of his usual spots, which was weird, because he knew she was coming, he wouldn't have left, right?
And then someone recognised her as Druig's visitor, and told her that he'd gotten ill, and that he was in the main house being looked after by their best healers but no one was being able to fix anything.
Well, that was not the welcome she'd been expecting.
When she entered the place where he was in (a big building, possibly a meeting centre of some sort but empty except for a bed, a couple of windows and a bathroom in the back), he found him alone, having controled the guys that were supposed to be with him to leave. Pale as a sheet, sitting on the floor, his back on the small bed behind him. There were blood stained little pieces of cloth next to him. Concerning.
"The beautiful Makkari," he said and she could practically feel in her bones how small and broken he was "I don't want you to see me like this."
She knelt in front of him and put her hand on his forehead. It was on fire, and he closed his eyes, relieved at the coolness from her hand. This was not good. He was clearly tired and it seemed like it hurt to breathe, but he still tried to sign.
Before you ask, no, Ajak couldn't do anything. I asked her to come and she... well, couldn't do much. She's looking for some herbs or something she thinks may help.
His eyes were bloodshot and too bright, he seemed to be having trouble to even keep them open. Oh, and he was coughing up blood, that was where all the blood from the bloody rags were coming from. Not from some wound they could easily fix, or put a bandage on to stop. It was coming from his insides and Ajak, their resident healer of everything, hadn't been able to heal him.
She wanted to ask a million questions, when did he start feeling bad? how long had he been bleeding? why hadn't he asked her to come, help him?
But this was not the moment to overwhelm someone who was barely able to stay conscious with her questions. Maybe she could ask someone from the village, a bit later. So she just asked one question, possibly the most important one:
Where does it hurt?
He sent a grateful look her way.
Everywhere. But mostly my chest and head.
She closed her eyes, ran her fingers through his face and chest. Sometimes, if she concentrated enough the vibrations and just the touch of a person could give her a lot of information, of what was going on, if it was something serious or not. And she could tell mostly one thing: this was serious, and something inside him was very very wrong. She could feel, just by touching his skin, that the skin was not flowing on the way it was supposed to. Too slow. Blotchy and spotted and no.
She caressed the skin next to his eyes, and he looked at her with pain in those pale blue eyes.
Makkari now understood why he hadn't wanted her to see him, why he hadn't called, why he hadn't anything. Because seeing him like this, so ill, in so much pain... It was breaking her heart, making her want to cry. And she wasn't a sad person, but him, looking like this...
She wanted to be able to do something, but didn't know what. Bring doctors? Read through old manuscripts to see if there was anything about healing magical beings? Make Ajak let her come into one of her chats with Arishem so she could tell the Celestial that he was to cure her man or else?
It was difficult to think, and she was getting overwhelmed by the frustation, the powerlessness, the anger (her own), the pain (Druig's) and just everything that was happening. She couldn't look into those bloodshot pale eyes again or she was going to burst into tears, so she gave him a little kiss on the forehead and signed that she was getting him something to eat and drink, but mostly, she was doing it to try and clear her head.
She hadn't seen him like this before, so defeated. Even when he had no one to back him up, even when he went against everything they normally believed... He kept his head held high and faced whatever it was that was coming his way.
But now... He looked broken, so... disheartened, subdued... crushed. And she honestly couldn't stand it.
While she was standing there, trying to put her thoughts in order and not get too overwhelmed, she sensed someone coming behind her, and leaving something on the ground.
It was a note, with just one word.
Veneno
Poison.