He pulls back and stares. “No. Sorry, you. No.”
Pushing up on my elbows as best I can with a moving floor beneath me, I glance around. I can still hear the singing walls, though it’s faded into something like a quiet hum, almost like a lullaby. My exhaustion is intense, and I feel a little terrified because I have no idea how long this Vyastil healing tea is going to last.
I can’t be in pain like that again. I won’t be able to take it.
“My Dante,” Cielo says. His hands rub along my shoulders, then my chest, then down to my thighs. Every muscle in my body is sore from being tense. “VySytheh.”
I’ve heard that word before. I’m a thousand percent sure I heard Rathyn whisper it to Everest as we were leaving the cinema. But right now, I don’t have it in me to ask what it means.
Cielo touches my face again, easing me back against the moss. “Sleep.”
“I—” My instinct is to protest, to tell him I’m not tired, but whatever he’s given me is also urging me to rest. My eyelids are heavy, and my breathing begins to even out without me being consciously aware of it.
“You,” he says very carefully, very slowly, “are safe.”
When I wake, the pain is nothing more than a dull ache in my joints. I groan, trying to sit up, but something warm is sucking lightly at my skin, pulling me back down. Something foreign. Something not of Earth.
My mind clears, and I blink my eyes open. I’m on Erethar with Cielo. He took me through the portal when the herbs no longer worked. When I was in so much pain, I truly felt like I might die.
“Dante,” a voice says above me, a gentle hand pushing against my shoulder.
“Cielo,” I say softly, my fingers gently touching his. “You’re here.”
He nods, squeezing me softly. “Alweez. You feel better?”
I nod and then wince when a sharp pain lances through me. Apparently, better doesn’t mean completely healed. But I can cope with not feeling like my bones are being slowly ripped from beneath my skin.
Whatever I was given, it worked, but I’m doubtful it will stay that way forever.
“Is he awake?” a deep voice says from behind Cielo, and I twist my head slightly to see who’s there. It’s then that I see it, something other than a Vyastil. My lips part as I take it in. It moves toward me on four muscular tentacles that coil beneath it, helping it glide across the dirt floor. My eyes move up, seeing elongated fangs, much longer than those of the Vyastil, extended from its mouth, eyes that shine bright like obsidian, and horns that curl back on its head.
“Do not fear,” the creature says. “I am Sabik, a friend of Cielo. I am here to help you.”
“Thank you,” I say as Sabik comes to a stop near me, holding something in his hands. I glance at the almost primitive-looking thing, and he offers a small rumble of appreciation.
“You are curious, I see. I am not what you expected.”
I nod. “You’re not, but it doesn’t matter. Thank you for your help, and…you speak great English.”
“I am a connoisseur of language and science. I am always excited to learn new things. And Cielo says that you have a problem that the Vyastil cannot fix.”
“Yeah, a pain that won’t go away. I mean, the zitha helped for a while, but then it just stopped, so I don’t know…I don’t have a diagnosis. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“We will find out.”
He glances at Cielo, who hums something in his language, making Sabik furrow his brow and nod.
“I will take good care of him. I already have an idea of what this may be and how we may cure it. But first I must do an examination.” Cielo moves in closer, but Sabik reaches out a tentacle and touches him gently. “I will take good care of your VySytheh. You may stay nearby and watch.”
Cielo hesitates, but moves to the side, allowing Sabik to do his examination.
“What is that?” I ask as he holds some kind of bone object over me.
“You wish to know? I do enjoy curious souls.” When I nod, he adds, “I shall tell you. This is a lens of sorts; these crystals on the edges will hum softly in response to your biological rhythms.”
“Oh,” I say, watching as he places it over my skin. I watch as the crystals flicker and vibrate in an almost musical tone as he drags it across my body. Sabik makes small noises in the back of his throat as he does this, and when he’s done tracking it across my throat, shoulders, stomach, and groin, he pulls something out of the satchel at his side.
“Was everything okay?” I ask, and he nods.
