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I strode up the staircase into the cathedral, and up the second staircase toward the bedroom corridor. When I reached Farryn’s door, I gave a soft knock before entering. A mound of blankets on the bed had me quietly prowling toward it, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep. I came to a stop alongside the bed and ran a gentle palm over the long, raven locks scattered over her pillow.
She rolled onto her back, her face a pale and ghostly white, but her lips stretched to a welcoming smile. “Hi.”
“Hi. You’re not feeling well?”
“Just my stomach.” A hearty cough jerked her body, and she twisted back around, curling into herself as she gripped her stomach with a grunt, then shivering as if she were freezing.
Slipping my arms beneath her, I lifted her up off the bed and carried her into the bathroom, her body trembling in my arms. On the edge of the tub, I sat down with her in my lap, and pressing my palm to the surface of the tub, I whispered, “Inflodiusz.”
Water poured in from the stone’s edges, filling the exceptionally large basin, the black surface emitting a soft glow that gave just enough light to see by. When I stuck my hand in, the temperature felt as inviting as the hot springs I used to enjoy when I was younger.
Farryn still shivered in my arms as I undressed her, and I imagined she must’ve been quite ill not to have mentioned a word about her father up until that point. She lifted herself up off my lap just enough to remove her panties, and once completely unclothed, I helped her down into the bathtub.
After she’d seated herself, I grabbed a washcloth from the linen cabinet and dipped it into the water, before dragging the soft cotton over her brow.
“Tell me how this happened?”
“I don’t know. It struck pretty fast.” She sat up, her eyes wide as she glanced around. “My father. Where is he?”
The dreaded question. I couldn’t bring myself to lie, but at the same time, I didn’t want to upset her and risk the consequences of stress. “Would you have him visit you while indisposed?” I asked with a feigned air of amusement.
“No, but I can get dressed.” Pushing up sent her backwards as if wave of dizziness had swept over her.
“I beg to differ.” I caught her by the back of her neck before her head could hit the stone and gently laid her back down into the tub. “Relax. Did anything precipitate this?”
“I went with Vaszhago and Vespyr into town. We st-stopped at th’bookstore, th’one you took me to, so that I could speak w’Catriona.” As if a sudden sleepiness weighed on her, her words carried a slight slur. “When I exit’d th’store, th’was a thick, white fog of ash.” She shifted in the water, flinching with the movement. “I cou’n’t see pas’it. Los’ sigh’of Vaszhago an’ Vespyr. And then ou’of th’blue, th’was a woman. Dressed ’na hooded cloak. But ’er eyes were black ‘s’night. Only jus’touched m’stomach ‘fore Vaszhago found me an’ sliced her han’s off. Burst ’nto flames afterward.”
“She put her hands on your stomach?”
“Yeah.”
On a forced exhale, I rubbed a hand over my jaw. “She could’ve been vocatori.”
“Wha‘sat?”
“A summoner. Fuck.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, doing my best to reel in the vexation brewing beneath my skin. “Did Vaszhago leave you at any time?”
“Wasn’ his fault, Jericho. Why’re you mad? Wha’s it mean?” She rolled her head against the surface of the tub, and I brushed away the wet hair plastered to her face.
“I don’t know. It depends on what she was trying to invoke. We’ll have you checked by a doctor immediately.”
“There’s a healer Catriona tol’me ‘bout. Her card’s in m’dress pocket. Maybe call her? Or … chalk ‘er. Wha’ever y’call it.”
Her slurring seemed to get worse by the minute, and I pressed a hand to her forehead, noting the intense heat that radiated against my palm. Stuffing my hand down into the water, I whispered, “Fri’guse.” The temperature cooled just enough to keep her warm without heightening her burgeoning fever. “I’ll take care of the summoning. I want you to rest.” I leaned forward and kissed her, the scent and taste of her drawing me out of the thoughts that had plagued my head the whole ride back to the cathedral.
“On’more thing … ‘n angel broke ‘nto m’bedroom.”
“An angel?” I couldn’t tell if she was serious or delirious.
“Vasz’go got ‘em. Down’na dungeons.”
Something dark moved through me, twisting my insides. “An angel here?”
“Yeah. Said he ha’da’m’sage for you.” A sliver of fear shined in her eyes as she stared up at me. “Jer’cho,” she whispered. “Y’think th’re c’ming f’me?”
With a gentle grip of her chin, I held her attention. “You don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of this angel. No one is going to touch you.”
“‘Kay. ‘M’so happy y’back.”
