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Iwake up from what feels like my fifth nap of the day to find dinner sitting on the bedside table.
The plate holds a different kind of meat than what I’m used to. This juicy hunk of beef is thick, marbled with fat, and seared to perfection. Next to that, there’s a heap of what appears to be mashed potatoes and a bowl of orange fruit with whipped cream on top. Then there’s a separate little saucer with a tiny vanilla frosted cake.
I sigh, both happy about the dessert and disappointed in Ellister’s constant absence.
I haven’t seen him since yesterday. After he vortexed himself to a bunch of places to collect scrap metal, he allowed me to be in the barn with him while he built the distiller because he needed my guidance.
Somehow, he found a steel barrel, and that’s our base. He said it’s small, but that just means he’ll have to refill it with fresh water more often. Constructing the funnel on top was a bit more difficult. Honestly, we need a welder to melt the metal and seal the pieces shut, but without tools and without someone with fire power, we had to get creative. Ellister went to Dawn and Dusk to scrape some bark from the trees there. The pulp from the inner layers of the trunks is sap-like, and it acts like a pasty glue that’ll work in the short term.
Neither of us are engineers, but I think we made a pretty solid machine.
Against my better judgement, I tried to seduce him after we were done.
I thought once we made some progress on the distiller, he might relax a little with the no-touching rule. But nope.
Even after some begging and fondling myself in front of him, he sent me to bed. He walked me to the bedroom—keeping a good distance between us—and tucked me in snugly under the covers like I was a naughty kid staying up past my bedtime. And he managed to do it without touching me once.
He’s been avoiding me ever since. When he’s not walking to the pond to collect water, he’s sneaking food into my room. He only comes in when I’m asleep to drop off my meals, which are becoming more extravagant each time.
Obviously, he’s trying to strengthen me—and cheer me up—with food, but I’d rather have him.
I look at my appetizing spread.
Even though I’m nauseous, I get to work on my food. I’m just about finished when a windy gust rattles the shutters outside the window.
Ellister must’ve returned from his latest trip. When I push up on an elbow and look out the window, I catch a glimpse of his backside as he carries a long metal hose into the barn.
The tubing at the top is the last step. That means he collected enough Day water to fill the tank. Next, we’ll need to get the fire going, and my spirits lift a bit because my input is needed.
Motivated by the thought of being near Ellister again—even if it’s just for a brief time—I wiggle my toes and stretch my legs to test my symptoms.
I know how this illness goes, the order of things. Headaches, dizzy spells, and fevers. Organ failure. Tingling numbness and blurred vision. Hair loss.
The first three are happening now, but the rest are blessedly absent.
Combing my fingers through my hair, I pull my hand away to observe the damage. Only a couple strands are loose. Totally normal on any given day.
After a trip to the chamber pot, I pause to inspect my urine. Remembering my mom’s pee interrogation, I determine it’s a little yellow, but that’s probably because I’ve been sleeping so much that I haven’t had time to drink a ton of water.
I need to hydrate, so I go over to the pitcher Ellister left for me on the kitchen counter. After I pour myself a glass, I take a sip.
The liquid on my tongue is surprisingly cold and refreshing, and as it goes down my throat, it settles into my stomach, still icy.
Instantly, I feel like my fever is reduced. My sweat dries up, and the hot flush on my cheeks cools.
I look into the pitcher, half expecting to see some sort of glittering coming from inside because whatever I just drank is magic.
What kind of water is this?
I need more.
I down the entire glass within seconds, then I refill my cup.
I’m about to gulp it down, too, but Ellister comes through the front door.
He notices my excessive drinking and smiles a bit. “Waterfall mist. I’m hoping it will help you. Just like Day water, it has healing properties.”
“You went to Dawn and Dusk again.”
