He’s on me before I can do anything else, his big hands on my shoulders, holding me down.
“Get off.” I sound weak, my voice barely leaving a mark on the air.
“You must remain still. Lenka says you have a fever. Some sort of sickness from the bite.”
The bite. I shudder as I remember. Spiders, huge ones with silvery needle teeth and legs like thick black saplings.
“You must lie still and rest.” His voice is raspy, but his touch isn’t rough. If anything, he seems … almost afraid. Like he thinks he might break me. He’s not exactly wrong.
“I don’t think I could move much if I tried.” I wiggle the toes on the injured leg, and just that small movement sends another wave of pain through me.
The shadows jump around him, and I turn to see the fiery woman entering the bedroom. She’s carrying a wooden tray, but it doesn’t seem to burn. I blink a few times to clear my vision.
“Soup.” She slides it onto the bed. “Quit mauling the poor thing.” She smacks at the DragonKin’s leg.
I gasp and wait for him to strike her down.
He gives me a curious look, then releases my shoulders and steps back.
The woman sits next to me, her flames likewise not charring the blanket. “You did something very foolish.” She leans closer to me.
I stare at her, unsure of how she’s consumed with flames but not burning. The nearest thing I’ve seen to it is when they burned Prioress Lenitia in the village square for daring to challenge Lord Rayid’s hold on the church. She didn’t take the flames quite so well. I had nightmares for months afterwards, and my mother never forgave me for disobeying her and going to watch. But I was always a curious child, and perhaps seeing that horror andknowing what the nobles were capable of helped me learn to keep my head down.
“All Firefolk burn, child.” She takes the spoon from the tray and stirs the soup. “We’ve long kept the flame, and will keep it long after this world goes dark.”
I peer into her dark eyes, the flames dancing even in her pupils. “Does it hurt?”
“No more than it hurts for everyone.” She brings the spoon to my lips. “You need to eat. The fever is in your blood. Dreadspiders are filthy creatures. I daresay their venom isn’t the nastiest part of their bite.”
I accept the broth. It has a nice flavor, but I have a hard time swallowing. My throat is sore, my head pounding.
“Lenka?” Another fiery creature stands at the door.
“Yes.”
“Sprite sent a hobgoblin to the border for more of the vegetables, but he came back with some sort of root?”
“What does it look like?”
“Like a …” The creature scratches his fiery head. “Sort of like a dingle.”
Lenka groans and stands. “Feed her. I’ll be back soon.”
Vander glances at the tray and then to me.
I try to shake my head, but it hurts too much. “H-he’s a DragonK?—”
Lenka has already disappeared.
One of Vander’s eyebrows rises. “A dragon can’t feed you soup?”
“I …” I don’t have an answer for that. The constant thundering in my head takes precedence over whatever objection I might have.
He slowly sinks to the bed beside me and takes the spoon.
“I can feed myself,” I protest, but I can’t move my hand more than a few inches toward the tray. There’s no way I could hold the spoon. It’s like everything has been drained out of me.
“Just lie still. All you have to do is breathe and swallow.”
