She tries to stay as still as possible as the little creature hops around, tugging at the strands of hair and rustling its feathers as it makes itself at home. Meanwhile, both Rhune and I watch the bird in rapt fascination, sitting still as statues so as not to scare it away.
Of course, when it decides to peck at her ear, Rhune’s overprotective nature rears up, and he releases a low, menacing growl to warn the bird. At the first rumble, the icepip snaps up straight, its head whipping side to side as it searches for the source. When its beady eyes land on Rhune, it releases an angry shriek, fluffs itself up, then takes to the skies.
Willow laughs as it flies off to join the other members. The group is now circling high above her head in a perfect circle, screaming their eerie calls in unison—a song that travels far across the land and sea.
“That’s amazing,” she whispers. “Why are they doing that?”
Why, indeed…
An ominous chill runs down my spine, but I don’t know why. My eyes sweep the horizon, searching for something out of place. And then, it hits me.The icepips. They’re silent.
Before I can make this observation known, Willow turns to face me, and all my thoughts scatter at the same time my heart lurches to my throat.Oh, Gods…
“What’s wrong?” she asks, the smile dropping from her face.
“Nothing… nothing at all,” I lie. “Your eyes are just… well… they’re bleeding again.”
With a frown, she reaches up to her face, letting out a soft gasp when her fingertips come away coated with bright red liquid. “Shit. That’s… not great.”
Before either of us can respond, a thousand piercing screams break the silence, calling our attention toward the circling birds once more. Several dozen icepips have broken off from the group, and they swoop down toward Willow’s head like shooting stars—stopping their descent at the last second and arcing back to the heavens.
“What’s wrong with them?” Rhune demands, batting at one that got a little too close to his mate. He snaps his wing out, covering Willow’s head as the icepips continue to grow bolder. “Why are they attacking her?”
“I don’t know.” I send a gentle blast of magic toward the swarm, hoping it will make them disperse. But, if anything, it only makes them more agitated. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
As if the birds have called upon some ancient entity, the storm starts to pick up, whipping up flurries of snow and cutting our skin with its biting cold. “We need to head back inside!” I yell, gesturing for Rhune to grab Willow.
Covering Willow the best we can, the three of us fly off the cliff and into the protective mouth of the cave, and as soon as we slip through the tunnel into the main cavern, the relentless torrent of snow and wind ceases. Like a switch was flipped, a quiet stillness descends from all sides, and the three of us move to the back of the cave in silence, none of us willing to speak on the strangeness of what just occurred.
Rhune settles on the floor, propping his back against the wall as he finds a comfy spot for Willow in his lap. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” he asks. “I can run out and find you something if you are. It will likely not be as tasty as palepears, but it will fill your belly.”
“Actually, I’m not all that hungry,” she says, her eyes unfocusing as she snuggles deeper into Rhune’s warmth. “Not thirsty, either.”
I tilt my head, trying not to let the alarm show on my expression. “It’s been nearly a whole cycle. You should try to drink something, at least…”
“Mm. Sleep first,” she says, the words heavily muffled against Rhune’s chest.
“You’re sleepy?” Rhune asks. “You just woke up, pup.”
“Huh. That’s funny…”
“Funny? What’s funny?” He shakes her shoulders lightly, but she doesn’t answer. Instead, her head lolls back, and a soft snore shudders from her open mouth.
She… fell asleep? Just like that?
I don’t like it. Something about the timing and speed of it all settles wrong in my gut.This is not normal for humans.
“Willow? Wake up, lovely. Open your eyes for me, please.”
“Huh? Whaswrong?”
Willow’s eyes struggle to focus on either of our faces, and when I press a hand to her forehead, the heat radiating off her skin nearly makes me flinch back.
She’s burning up.
“What’s wrong with her?” Rhune whines, pulling her upright against his chest. He slides his hand over her sweat-slicked forehead, a deep crease building between his brows. “Why is she so warm?”
“I don’t know!” I snap, fear for Willow causing me to lash out. Rhune’s expression flashes with hurt, and I turn from him, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I don’t know,” I repeat, calmer. “I’m going to get her some water.”
