More images rush through my brain: the vials he took from Mr. Denos’ home. That was Zantrax, wasn’t it? I’ve heard about it before: it gives normal people strange abilities but it’s always at the cost of their own health. If he took something like that, forme, how could I leave while he’s suffering through the effects of that poison?
I stare into the distance, two choices before me. I can go ahead with my plan and leave him and then attempt to forget everything about him. Or, I can brave what the future might bring and stay; help him through his pain like he helped me. The first choice will give me inner peace while my outside world will be in turmoil. The second, is the reverse.
My hands ball into fists and before I know it, my choice is made for me.
I re-enter the house. My bag of meager belongings falls to the ground. I don’t even go to my room to leave it there first. Instead, my feet gain speed as I charge towardhisroom just as his cries of pain intensify.
I swing the door open, my mouth parting in shock. He’s on the floor. The sheets in his bed are all scrambled around. He’s on his back, his chest rising and falling with difficulty.
Rushing to his side, I place my hand on his forehead. It’s burning up.
“Nykander,” I say, shaking his shoulders. “You have a fever. You need to wake up.”
He doesn’t reply or acknowledge my voice. He seems to be lost in his own world, struggling to even breathe. No matter how hard I shake or hit him, he doesn’t wake.
Think, Moe, think!
He might be an immortal, but eventheyare not safe from this type of temperature. His fever is too high. I must find a way to bring it down.
After rummaging through his cabinets, I find nothing remotely similar to medicine.Damn it!That would be the fastest way to bring his fever down, but without it… I quickly pour some cold water in a bowl and use a towel to dip it into it. Placing it over his forehead, it only takes seconds for the heat from his skin to transfer onto the towel.
“This might work for us normal folk, but it does almost nothing for you,” I mutter after minutes of effort yield zero results.
If anything, his fever is raging even stronger.
The only thing I can think of is to submerge his entire body in ice-cold water, then change it regularly when it warms up. And for that I need to take him to the washroom.
The issue is moving him…
“Nykander, can you move?” I ask as I cup his cheek.
His lids flutter open, but his gaze is unfocused.
“Can you stand?”
There’s a haze over his eyes, but as I show him what I mean, pulling on his arms, he staggers to a standing position. He’snot conscious—I don’t think so. His big body is propped against mine as I move one step at a time. He vastly overpowers me, so I lean against the wall to bear his weight better, but that means our progress is minimal.
It must be half an hour before we reach the washroom. Once inside, I leave him on the ground next to the pool while I fiddle with the temperature controls. The water is as cold as it can get, but it’s still not as icy as I would have wished for.
Agh! It’s at moments like this that I wish I had some abilities. It would have made everything so much easier.
Alas, I must work with what I have.
While the pool fills with water, I go to Nykander’s side.
“Nykander,” I call out his name as I shake his shoulders vigorously. “You’re burning up and you need to get into the pool.”
He murmurs something unintelligible, his eyes as hazy as before.
“I’m going to take your shirt off.”
He doesn’t answer, still looking at me as if he doesn’t recognize me.
Unbuttoning his shirt, I slide it off his body and place it to the side.
My gaze is half averted as I try not to look too closely at his bare chest. Yet the next step fills me with anxiety. I cannot take off his pants. But when he gets out of the pool, the wet clothing will cling to his body for hours and might make his condition worse.
My heart thuds in my chest as I bring my hands to the waistband of his pants. Swallowing hard, I undo the first button. As I move to the next, his hands suddenly cover mine.
