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Cass did exactly what I told her, in time for Luke to vomit into it. When he was done, he struggled through labored breaths, and I knew that something was terribly wrong.
I wrapped my arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer to me. He was burning up, the back of his neck already sweating profusely.
“Cass, go and get the castle doctor,” I urged her.
I didn’t need to tell her twice. She rushed over to the door and disappeared moments later. We could hear her hurried footsteps echoing through the hallway.
“Just stay awake, Luke,” I told him, noticing that his eyelids were becoming droopy. I had no idea what was wrong with him, but I knew that I couldn’t let him fall asleep. “You’ll be fine. Just stay awake, OK?”
He managed a weak nod and an even weaker smile, his eyes reflecting both gratitude and fear. “Thank you for being here, Lil.”
“Don’t be silly, Luke,” I gripped his shoulder reassuringly. “Where else would I be?”
Once again, guilt clenched around my heart. This man loved me. I could tell as much. I tried to ignore all those subtle signs he used to show me that, for him, I was more than a friend. But I didn’t feel the same way and I doubted I ever would.So, it was easier to just ignore this. Now, knowing that I had done something behind his back, something that would hurt him immensely if he found out about it, made me feel like the worst person in the world.
I tried not to think about it at the moment. This was neither the time nor the place for that. We needed to find out why Luke was feeling so bad. I sat by his side anxiously, as we awaited the arrival of the castle doctor. I wanted to talk to Luke, to keep assuring him that everything would be alright, but something prevented me from doing it.
Luke leaned his head on my shoulder again. He closed his eyes. His breathing was still shallow. He would frown occasionally, his hands still pressed to his stomach. I could see little droplets of sweat beading on his forehead. There was a sickly sour smell about him, and that made me very concerned.
Finally, the heavy doors swung open and the castle doctor, Doctor Zalkind, emerged from the darkness of the hallway behind him, with Cass following closely behind.
Doctor Zalkind had been our castle doctor for over thirty years now. As always, he entered dressed in flowing robes of rich burgundy, adorned with intricate patterns symbolizing his expertise. According to Father, he was the embodiment of ancient wisdom and modern medical knowledge, as he had studied abroad and then returned here to serve the king.
I remembered watching him as a kid, as even then, there were lines of wisdom etched across his face, as if he had never been a young man, but only less old. Those very same lines were a testament to countless hours spent studying, observing and treating a myriad of various ailments.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice a melodic baritone, which carried authority, yet possessed that soothing quality that instantly comforted those in need.
“I don’t know,” I was the first one to reply, as I stood up. The moment I did that, Luke’s body slumped down onto the sofa. He was barely breathing. “We were just having coffee and then, this happened.”
Doctor Zalkind glanced at the coffees. “Did everyone drink it?”
“Yes,” both Cass and I said at the same time.
He put down his black leather bag and began a meticulous examination. As always, he was very careful. His every move was deliberate, as if he were unraveling a complex mystery, which was actually what it was. We had no idea what had caused it, and our concern was multiplying by the minute. With each examination, the doctor seemed to nod to himself, hopefully piecing together the puzzle of Luke’s current condition, in search of those vital clues that would be the final revelation.
“Stick out your tongue, please,” Doctor Zalkind asked of Luke, who immediately did as he was told.
I almost gasped, because his tongue was swollen and of a purplish hue. It hadn’t been like that a moment ago.
With a grave tone, the doctor finally delivered his diagnosis. “I’m sorry to say that Mr. Hemlock has been poisoned.”
“Poisoned!?” I exclaimed, gasping in shock. Cass was so stunned that she wasn’t able to say anything.
“Yes,” the doctor nodded calmly, as it was expected of him. “You mentioned the coffees.”
It was then that Cass and I exchanged wide-eyed glances, our hearts sinking with a mixture of shock and disbelief. We also drank that same coffee.
“But we feel fine,” Cass shook her head incredulously. “He drank it at the same time. If we had been poisoned as well, wouldn’t the poison already have showed itself?”
“Yes, it would have,” Doctor Zalkind nodded. He then got up and pointed at Cass’ cup. “Is this his?”
“No, that’s mine,” Cass corrected him. “This one is his.”
“I will need to take it with me. I need to do some tests,” he explained. “For the time being, you need to follow my advice closely, if we are to have young Mr. Hemlock get over this without any repercussions.”
Both Cass and I nodded at the same time. Doctor Zalkind then proceeded to outline the urgent steps which were required to address the poisoning.
“We must act swiftly and decisively to counteract the poison coursing through Mr. Hemlock’s system. First, we have to administer a targeted antidote intravenously. Simultaneously, we will initiate supportive therapies to aid his recovery. This includes providing intravenous fluids to maintain hydration and support vital organ function. During this time, it is of the utmost importance that he remains here at the castle, where we can closely observe his vital signs, including his heart rate, blood pressure and oxygen levels.”
