Swords Over Fireshore (28 page)

“Luruthin?”

He turned to see Eliani and Vanorin approaching. Eliani looked concerned.

“Are you all right?”

“I was dizzy for a moment. I am better now.”

Eliani glanced at Vanorin, then at the river. “We cannot cross here.”

Vanorin nodded. “Upstream, perhaps.”

They set off along the river bank, climbing over ice-slick rocks, sometimes moving into the woods for better footing. Slow going, and weary work.

Luruthin felt himself beginning to flag. His mouth hung open as his breath rasped cold in his throat. A throbbing ache filled his head, and his feet dragged as he walked.

They reached a pool at the foot of a much smaller fall, perhaps two rods high, barely more than a ripple in the river's long journey down the narrow valley. Gray rock, capped with patches of snow and carved into hollows by the water, surrounded the small pool where the river seemed to pause for rest before continuing on its path. The sun had risen above the far ridge at last, and Eliani stepped into a splash of sunlight at the water's edge.

Luruthin did not think he could walk much farther without rest. He felt ill at ease, had felt so ever since looking over the falls and remembering the shade. He found a tree whose lower trunk was bare of branches and leaned against it, trying to catch his breath.

Vanorin came to him, dark eyes appraising. “We can rest here a while. Come into the sun, it will warm you.”

Luruthin was disinclined to move, but he obediently pushed away from the tree trunk and followed Vanorin toward the river. As he stepped into the sunshine a hot prickling poured over him and he gasped, stumbling back. He caught himself against evergreen branches and stood wheezing in the shadow of the forest.

Vanorin turned to look at him. “What is it?”

Luruthin stared at the pool of sunshine, terrible in its brightness, painful to look at. “It stings!”

“Luruthin?” Eliani hurried toward him, her face taut with concern. She stopped before him, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Luruthin?”

Dread filled Luruthin's heart as he returned her gaze. “I cannot go into the sun.”

Falls

 

T
he look on Luruthin's face tore at Eliani's heart. She gazed at him, her cousin and her friend, watching the dread grow in his eyes.

“The curse.” His voice was choked. “It has taken me.”

Vanorin's footsteps came toward them. Eliani glanced at him, saw that he was holding two blankets.

“There is a cave beside the fall. We can shelter there.”

“I cannot go there.” Luruthin stared past him toward the sunlit pool.

“We will shield you.” Vanorin handed corners of both blankets to Eliani. “Two steps and you will be out of the sun.”

Vanorin spread the blankets double and draped them over Luruthin, he and Eliani holding up the front corners just enough that Luruthin could see where he walked. They moved to the edge of the woods.

“There, to the right. That crevice.”

Luruthin paused as if gathering himself, then nodded. Together they stepped swiftly out of the woods and across to the crevice, which opened into a cave that went surprisingly deep into the rock.

Ice made its uneven floor treacherous in the lowest places. Luruthin stumbled and Vanorin caught his arm, preventing him from falling.

Backing against the cave wall in the deepest shadows, Luruthin sank to the floor and sat hugging his knees, shivering. Eliani and Vanorin tucked both blankets around him, then Eliani took off her pack and knelt beside him.

“Let me give you healing.”

“No, leave me.” Luruthin was shaking badly. He raised his head and whispered. “Please leave me be.”

Biting her lip to keep back tears, Eliani rose and stepped backward, leaving her pack beside the wall. She watched Luruthin lay his head upon his knees.

“My lady.”

She looked up at the captain, saw him nod toward the pool. They went outside together, leaving packs and weapons behind, leaving Luruthin to find what peace he could.

The warmth of the sunshine soothed Eliani, though this comfort was marred by the knowledge that Luruthin could not share it. She followed Vanorin toward a broad, flat rock at the pool's edge. The sun had not yet warmed the stone, but she sat there, hugging her own knees and turning her face to the light.

“What will we do?”

Vanorin was filling his water flask from the pool. He glanced up at her, his brow creased in thought.

“Travel by night. We had better take him back to the Lost.”

Eliani drew a sharp breath. It was the best solution, but she could not bear to suggest it to Luruthin.

Vanorin offered the water flask to her. “Hand me yours and I will fill it.”

She did so, then took a deep drink. The water was icy, sending cold through her chest and lying heavy in her stomach. She opened the pouch of dried fruit that she had tied to Birani's sword belt and ate a piece, then remembered that Luruthin had refused it.

“He has not eaten in days.”

Vanorin met her gaze, his own eyes troubled. He glanced toward the cave, but made no answer though his frown deepened.

Eliani's brow grew suddenly warm, almost hot. She lay back upon the rock and closed her eyes.

Turisan.

What is wrong? Is it Kelevon again?

No.

His anxious concern was palpable in his khi. No doubt he had sensed her distress. She struggled to find a way to explain to him. She did not want to tell him, did not want to charge him with conveying yet more bad news to her father.

During their weary march to the river she had told him of Kelevon's attack. His response was to offer to send more guardians to her, but his company was several days away yet and would travel fastest by remaining on the road. She had asked him to send a message to Felisan, so that he in turn could inform the fallen guardians' families of their fate and send word to Jharan, who could go in person to Onami's kin. Such news should not be told in a letter.

Eliani? My love, what is it?

Luruthin is ill. Very ill.

She felt tears slide down either side of her face, into her matted hair. She had not combed it out since they had left the Lost, she thought inconsequentially.

Is it the hunger?

Eliani gave a sob. She sat up, trying to master her grief, struggling to quell the gasping sobs that continued to rise. Wiping at her face, she saw Vanorin watching her with concern.

I fear so. He has not been able to eat, and now he cannot bear the sun.

Oh, my heart. I am so sorry.

Eliani moved to the edge of the rock and scooped up handfuls of water from the pool to splash on her face. The cold stung, distracting her, helping her conquer the tears. She sat back.

I do not know what to do.

I wish I could advise you. I wish I could hold you, love.

So do I.

Silence fell between them, though Turisan stayed with her. Greatly comforted by his closeness, Eliani tried to turn her thoughts toward helping Luruthin.

His choices were few now. To continue to Alpinon would be difficult, though Luruthin might wish to say farewell to his folk and to gather his belongings. Some time would pass—she did not know how much—before his appearance changed. He would be safest with the Lost, and it might be best for him to go to them at once. They could succor him, teach him.

Teach him their way of hunting. Eliani swallowed dismay. She did not want to think of what he must now to do survive.

She wiped away a stray tear and sighed. Feeling disheveled as well as miserable, she pulled her hair out of its tangled braid. Her comb was in her pack, inside the cave. She stood up and went to fetch it.

Luruthin lay on his side where she had left him, curled up in the tangle of blankets. His eyes were closed and he was shivering. She knelt and reached toward his face, feeling the heat of fever before she touched him. Alarmed, she hurried to the mouth of the cave.

“Vanorin!”

The captain had been standing by the pool, gazing skyward. At her call he hastened toward her. Eliani glanced back at Luruthin.

“He is in a fever. We should build a fire, it is too cold in here.”

With a nod, Vanorin came inside and fetched the woodcutter's knife from his pack. Eliani told Turisan what was passing, then bade him farewell and went out with Vanorin to gather dead wood.

Returning to the cave, Vanorin chose a place that was high enough to be free of ice, fairly level, and lay beneath a water-carved crack that was open to the sky. He and Eliani made the fire, fed it until it was burning steadily, then went to where Luruthin lay. He was still shivering, still throwing off far too much heat.

“Luruthin.”

He stirred and frowned, but did not open his eyes. Eliani laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

“Luruthin. We have made a fire. Come.”

At this he opened his eyes and blinked at her, seeming not to recognize her. His lips were cracked, she saw. A thin, dark line of blood divided the lower.

“Come to the fire. Can you stand?”

He pushed himself up and sat for a moment, swallowed, then slowly got to his feet. Eliani let him lean on her as they walked the few steps to the fire.

He glanced fearfully toward the open sky above, but though the sun was high by now it was also well to the north, and did not come into the cave. Sinking down again beside the fire, Luruthin looked at Eliani and this time seemed to know her.

“Thank you.” His voice was a croak. He coughed.

Eliani went outside to fetch the flask she had left beside the pool. It was warm from lying in the sun. She took it in and handed it to Luruthin, who drank greedily, emptying it.

Eliani took it back. “More?”

He shook his head slightly, then winced as if the motion had pained him. He pulled his blankets closer and lay down upon the rock, facing the fire.

Eliani fetched his pack and lifted his head onto it. His flesh was burning. Alarmed, she stayed beside him, gently smoothing his hair. She could feel the khi of healing flowing through her hand, though now it felt cool rather than warm, especially in comparison to Luruthin's burning flesh.

“That feels good. I ache so.”

Eliani bit her lip until she could answer in a steady voice. “It is just a fever. It will pass.”

“Inóran said he was fevered, did he not?”

“For a while, yes.”

“But I think this is from the sun. My face feels burned.”

Eliani closed her eyes, struggling to keep back the tears that threatened again. “You will be better presently.”

He did not answer. She stayed by him, touching him gently, offering him what comfort she could. It was not enough, she knew. It could never be enough.

Why? Why did this happen? Why is this his path?

No answer came from the spirits to whom she had called. Tears won the struggle and slid down her cheeks again. She sniffed defiantly and wiped at them with her free hand.

Vanorin returned with more wood. He stacked it against the cave wall, then added one branch to the fire. He glanced at the smoke rising out of the cave and Eliani knew he was thinking that it betrayed their presence.

They would be watchful. If Kelevon came after them again, she thought with a grimace, she would make him deeply sorry.

Vanorin pulled a small metal ewer from his pack and went outside, returning with it filled with water. He arranged two stones to support it over a corner of the fire, then sat back to wait for the water to boil. He took some dried meat from his pack and offered a piece to Eliani. She accepted it, knowing she should eat though she had no desire for food.

Luruthin was resting calmly now. He no longer shivered, and some of the strain had left his face.

When Vanorin's water was hot, Eliani roused Luruthin to make him drink some of the tea Vanorin made. There was but one cup, and they gave it first to Luruthin. Vanorin watched him drink, then rinsed the cup with a little of the tea and poured it out before filling it again and offering it to Eliani.

She sipped the tea and sighed. There was no way to know if they were risking contracting the hunger by staying with Luruthin, by sharing a cup or a flask with him. They knew too little about this ailment and how it behaved.