"…Death of water, birth of air .. ."
I was flying beneath a field of blurry stars against a clear black sky. My eyelids rasped, dryand itchy, but still I stared at the blooms of light above me. There were figures around me,moving with me, chanting softly. I flew, but my hair hung heavy, seeming to brush against thetall grass. The heat was still with me, the hearth located in my chest. It was impossible to movewith the weight that pressed me down. Each breath was an effort. All I could do was hold openmy weary eyes and stare.
"…Death of air, birth of fire.. ."
The chanting was muted, soft, as indistinct as my vision. It seemed somehow to first raise mecloser to the sky, then lower me to the earth.
I cried out as something cold bit my skin, surrounding me, covering me, stealing my breath andthe heat from my body. My mouth opened as the flame died, and I sucked in great gulps of air,even as I rose high in the air… "…Death of fire, birth of earth..."
Keir. It was Keir beside me, Marcus on the other side. I blinked as the water ran off my face. Iwas in their arms, cradled, being lowered back into water as cold as death. Keir was letting coldwater trickle from his cupped hand onto my face, and I blinked as the drops hit my eyes. I feltclean. Clean and cold and alive.
"…Death of earth, birth of water..."
They lowered me again, into the stream, letting the heat flow from my body with the water. Iwas wrapped in a blanket and Isdra and someone else were holding my legs, chanting as theylifted me, dripping and gasping. Wet cloth clung to my body, as the hands supporting melowered me into the water once again.
"…Death of water, birth of air.. ."
The waters flowed over me, driving away every breath and thought. My hair grew heavy,drawn away from my head as the current caught it, fanning it out in the water. My parched lipssoftened, and I ran my tongue over them, trying to get moisture into my dry throat. Keir usedhis cupped hand to dribble water into my mouth. I shuddered in relief even as the cold seepedinto my very soul.
"Enough."
Gils? Was that Gils? There was a reason that thought was important, a reason that it waswrong to hear his voice. But my concerns were wispy and I couldn't keep them. They werepulled from me even as I was raised from the water. Before I could gather them back, I was dryand under warm furs and a hand was pressing softly on my heart. My eyes refused to open. Acup at my lips, a few swallows and the warm darkness welcomed me back.
* * *
I opened my eyes, and stared into the darkness. It seemed familiar somehow, to lay so, in atent where the only light came from braziers. I was too weak to move, or do much more thansimply breathe. It felt good, and it took long moments for me to understand that I was feelingbetter. Utterly drained of any strength, but I wasn't hot, wasn't sweating. My breath cameslowly and I enjoyed the sensation for a while in the quiet warmth of the tent.
A soft sound drew my attention. I thought about that for a moment, then slowly turned my headtoward the noise.
Keir was sitting on the floor, leaning on the bed. His one hand braced his head, the other layclose to mine. He was asleep, and snoring, something I hadn't heard him do before. He lookedso tired, so haggard. Hair mussed, his chin rough and unshaven. If he slept like that for muchlonger, he'd have a sore neck. With some effort, I managed to move my hand enough to brushhis fingertips with mine.
His head snapped up, eyes wide. He stared at me in the dim light, then joy flooded his face, andhe grabbed my hand. "Lara?"
I tried to smile, but it became a yawn instead.
"My heart's fire." Keir's voice was soft, and I blinked at him. "Are you well?"
My curiosity forced me to make an effort to talk. "How… long?"
He stroked my hand, gently. "Three days."
I stared at him, trying to make sense of the images and memories in my mind. It was all sojumbled.
There was a sound of someone stirring, but I couldn't lift my head to look. Marcus moved intomy line of sight, with Gils right behind, looking anxious. When he saw that I was conscious, hisface split into a toothy grin.
"How?" I whispered.
Keir glanced at the others. "We were losing you. Gils came up with an idea, to place you in thestream to quench the fire within."
"You… were… chanting."
Keir nodded. "A ritual. We wanted you to be prepared if…" Keir's voice cracked and heswallowed hard.
Marcus cleared his throat. "For mercy, Lara. If the stream had not returned you to us, we wereprepared to grant you mercy."
I looked into Keir's face, so tired, so full of pain. "Oh, my Keir."
He crawled onto the bed, and pulled me into his arms, which trembled even as they crushed meclose. Voices spoke, but it was too much effort to try to understand. I closed my eyes, let myhead rest on Keir's chest and concentrated on breathing, content. It was so comfortable to beheld, listening to the rapid beat of his heart.
