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“Go away. Can’t you see I’m coming down with something?”
His knees creaked as he crouched beside her. “Coming down with what?”
“Qué menso.”She pouted. “I am sick—unwell. Sore ears. Maybe a cold. Maybe the flu.”
Silence stretched. The fire crackled. Nova’s pout deepened. She just wanted to sleep and forget about everything.
“You are unwell,” he repeated. “As in… a disease of the body? Is this a human affliction?”
“You make it sound so delightful.”
More silence.
“I feel your eyes on my face,Hoja. Why are you staring? Have you not seen someone get sick before?”
“No.”
She opened her heavy eyes, wasn’t prepared for the bright firelight, and sneezed. Pain burst in her ears, and she groaned, clutching them.
“Are your wounds not healed?” he asked.
“It’s the insides,” she moaned. “Earache.”
“Inside.”
“Yes!”
“Is it fatal?”
“God, I hope not.”
“How long will it last?”
“Always with the questions.” She shooed him. “Just leave me to die in peace.”
“You said it wasn’t fatal.”
“It’s not. It’s just an expression of…¿Sabes qué, Papi?Never mind.”
Leaf stood. “I will send for a healer.”
“I just need to sleep it off,” she mumbled. “But I wouldn’t say no to lemon-garlic tea.”
“Gahr-lick.” He snorted softly. “Sounds like something a Fee-Lion would do.”
Whatever that was. She snorted but lost the energy to talk. Eventually, Leaf’s footsteps receded, and she fell into a delirium-induced dream stuck somewhere in her memories. Her mother touched her burning forehead and then made her drink a tea her father had prepared. It tasted disgusting, nothing like she used to make. But she gulped it down like a good little girl and slept.
ChapterSixteen
After feeding Nova the healer’s tea, Leaf redressed her in comfortable cotton nightclothes provided by the Lodge’s steward. Despite her groans about remaining close to the fireplace, he carried her to bed. The resident fire sprites watched her warily. He wouldn’t be surprised if they hurled embers as a deterrent. He certainly couldn’t leave her unattended.
Once settled on the bed, she hugged a pillow and mumbled something.
“What was that?” He kneeled and leaned closer.
She whimpered, then pouted in a way he was becoming accustomed to… but not opposed to. It had never been obnoxious, selfish, or childish. Usually, it preceded a display of her strong spirit.
Leaf studied her face while waiting for an answer. Dark, long lashes left shadows on her cheekbones. He never noticed, but the freckles there reminded him of a constellation, perhaps even a map, like sailors once used to guide their way home. No one sailed much these days. The oceans were fraught with mana-warped monsters from the deep… and uncivilized water fae. He shuddered, grateful that being a Guardian took him nowhere near those uncharted places.
