‘Fuck.’ His attention is no longer on me as he strides over to Elska, throws his arms around her – mindful of his injured shoulder – and murmurs something I’m careful not to hear. My eyes feel hot at the sweetness of their emotional moment, and I’m absurdly pleased that I helped facilitate it. The Gods know, Kyor’s had precious little love in his life. He deserves more.
Benny rubs his chin. ‘Important question. Can you ask them if they’re judging us? Because I don’t like the idea of being silently peer-reviewed by apex predators.’
‘Oh we’re all judging you, Ben,’ Ruben says coyly. ‘Every one of us.’
‘Yeah, but you’re not exactly a predator are you?’ Benny shrugs.
Ruben pauses mid-gutting the deer, raising a bloody knife. ‘You really want to say that to a man with a blade in his hand?’
‘Depends. Will you tend to my wounds after you injure me? I could manage a couple of stitches, depending on where they are of course.’
‘You never give up, do you?’ Ruben laughs.
As the boys continue their easy flirting, Caz, Thessa, and Stide sit close to the fire, its flames snapping softly as sparks curl into the night air.
I’m looking at the group when suddenly I frown. Something is wrong with Stide. Even in the firelight, she looks drawn, her skin too pale, a faint sheen of sweat clinging to her brow.
She is wrapped in her cloak, yet her shoulders hunch as though the warmth cannot quite reach her.
‘Stide, you okay?’
As I move across to talk to her, she lifts her head slowly, as if the effort costs her. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, and when she speaks, her voice lacks its usual strength.
‘The Rose. I feel … cold.’
The word jars. The air is freezing – it’s almost certainly the coldest night we have encountered so far – but she is layered thoroughly and the fire is blazing.
Yet she still shivers, teeth catching faintly as another tremor runs through her.
And it’s not just the shiver. Now that I’m paying attention to her, it’sclear that she’s swaying slightly, sweat beading on her brow as she blinks repeatedly.
Almost as though she is struggling to focus, as if the world will not stay still. The heat of the flames paints her in gold and shadow, but it only seems to emphasise how wrong she looks. Feverish. Fragile. And very much not herself. Stide is indomitable. Not frail, never that.
‘Hey.’ I walk over and touch her forehead, only to snatch my hand straight off her. ‘Oof. That’s a wicked fever you’ve got. Let me get you something to lower it.’
I scramble around my saddlebags to find a potion I had the forethought to take from Mother’s supplies. Fevers go hand in hand with infections, so it seemed like an essential tonic to carry with me.
‘How long have you been feeling like this?’ I ask as I pour out a spoonful of the tincture.
‘A little while,’ she responds vaguely.
‘Well, tell me if you’re not feeling any better in an hour or so. If this doesn’t work, we’ll need to try something different.’
Her teeth are fully chattering now, but she manages a small nod as she pulls her red cloak even tighter around her.
As I move away to rinse the spoon, Thessa speaks to her fellow Sanning. ‘Why didn’t you say you were feeling unwell?’
‘You were talking to Caroline. I did not wish to interrupt.’
A warmth flurries within me. Stide has never come across as the most amiable of travelling companions, but there is no doubt she has been of help to us on this trip, especially when it came to the vätte.
It’s equally clear that she feels deep affection for Thessa, always guarding her, always fetching her food.
I’ve often wondered what the relationship between the two of them is, as Stide seems completely aware that there’s something going on between Caz and Thessa. Though how she feels about that, I’m not quite sure.
Thessa’s brow crinkles. ‘I always have time for you, Stide. Always. Next time, tell me.’
‘As you wish.’
