When Pharis set his feet on the ground, Papa collapsed.
Thankfully, Pharis’ hands were still beneath his armpits, supporting him. Pharis looked at me and shook his head in a shared moment ofwhat are we going to do about this?
“I could hear him groaning as we were riding today,” he whispered in my ear. “He’s trying his best to hide it, but he’s getting worse.”
I whispered back, “I know.” I felt so helpless.
After instructing me to remove his cloak and spread it in the grass, Pharis laid my father’s crumpled body on top.
I went to him, sitting beside him, my stomach twisting in anguish at the sight of his drawn facial features and the way he curled in on himself as if trying to disappear. He looked ten years older than he had at the start of our journey.
“Papa,” I said, stroking his face. “I’m going to let you rest here while Pharis makes a fire and sets up the tent, but then I want you to try and eat something, okay? You’ve hardly eaten the past few days, and it’s not good for you. Your body needs sustenance.”
“My body is finished,” he said in halting words followed by a gasp.
“No,” I said automatically. “You’re going to be fine. You just need—”
“Listen to me, girl,” he interrupted, and I went quiet so I could hear his barely audible speech.
“You have to leave me.”
My heart stuttered to a stop. He couldn’t mean that.
“Papa,” I protested.
He reached out a hand and gripped my wrist weakly.
“Let me finish while I still have the breath,” he said. “I can’t let what happened to your mother happen to you. I’m putting the girls and all of you in danger because I’m slowing your travel. You’re going to be caught because of me. You have to leave me.”
The tears gathering in my eyes spilled over. I placed both hands on my father’s chest. “I can’t do that. I can’t leave you here, alone and helpless. You’ll die.”
“It’s going… to happen… anyway,” he rasped. “And soon. It’s better… for the girls not to see it.”
His eyelids closed, and his body went lax as he passed out.
Covering a sob with one hand, I looked up and around for the children.
They had run off to find a spot to relieve themselves as soon as I’d set their feet on the ground and were now floating leaves in the small stream running through the vale. They must not have seen Papa collapse.
I got to my feet and swiped my sleeve over my face to wipe away the tears. “Tindra, Turi, come here please,” I called.
They ran over to me, and I instructed them to sit on the cloak with our father.
“I will be right back,” I said, trying to control the sound of my voice. “Keep an eye on Papa, okay?”
“Are you crying, Raewyn?” Turi asked.
Neither of my sisters had ever seen me cry before—I rarely allowed myself the luxury.
Tindra’s little forehead crinkled. “Why are you sad? Is Papa sick again?”
“No,” I lied because I didn’t know what else to say. “He’s going to be fine. He just needs to rest and have a good meal. I’m not crying—I just… I’ll be back soon.”
Practically running to the other side of a small copse of trees, I leaned back against one and let the tears flow. I had no choice—they would not be stopped.
I held both hands over my mouth, trying to cover the sound, but I wasn’t sure how successful it was.
Apparently not very because after about a minute, Pharis appeared, his teeth bared and his eyes wide with alarm.
