Anna hurried to them, carrying Harper’s canteen. The nun had already emptied the water out. Without hesitation, she dunked the bottle into the black slurry and filled it to the brim. Once done, she rushed back to Jason.
Elle followed, while Omryn returned to guarding the door.
Anna handed the canteen back to the doctor, who looked dismayed.
“Do we bathe his wound with this?” Harper asked. “Force him to swallow it?”
Elle lifted her palms. “We’ve come this far. Do both.”
Harper nodded. She grabbed some gauze sponges and soaked them thoroughly, keeping her nose turned away from the stench. She then placed the dripping compresses over the puncture wound under Jason’s jaw. She left them there and shifted over to fill a measuring spoon from her med kit. Grimacing, she dribbled the sludge past Jason’s lips, across his tongue. He failed to swallow, so there was no telling if anything reached his stomach. It appeared most of it drooled back out.
Anna knelt next to him, one hand clutching her throat with worry.
Elle resumed her pacing.
Harper checked Jason’s pulse and blood pressure.
“His vitals are getting worse,” the doctor concluded.
Anna covered her face. “Then it’s been a waste of time after all.”
Elle didn’t have the strength to console her. Anna sought solace elsewhere and shifted her hands to lips, whispering a prayer.
Still, Elle knew their effort hadn’t been a total waste. The exertion, the movement, even the flicker of hope, had stirred her enough to think more clearly, to push her panic further back.
She took a deep breath and pictured that steamy garden. She remembered her earlier quandary, wondering how such a garden could be so deadly, so invasive, yet the ancient gardeners here had harvested those fields on a regular basis. And from the old Greek legends, Hyperborean emissaries had visited foreign lands. Yet, none of those stories told of a sporulating affliction that spread wider.
“Maybe the Hyperboreans were naturally resistant to the toxic spores.”
Harper heard her. “What are you getting at?”
“I don’t know. Somehow the Hyperboreans were able to live with thesarkophágosspecies and not fall ill. Back at the garden, I saw copper boats that the harvesters must have poled across those hot mudflats. And there were those hanging leather outfits, likely meant to cover skin. Still, the gardeners must have occasionally gotten stung by those poisonous tendrils.”
“I would think so,” Harper admitted. “If the Hyperboreans were smart, they’d have had an antidote handy. Back on the beaches of Australia, during the summer months, we’re plagued by box jellyfish, which deliver a burning, deadly sting. Kills people. So the beaches installed these metal stanchions full of vinegar bags to counteract the venom. Saves many lives.”
Elle nodded, then more vigorously. “Of course...”
“What?” Harper asked.
“Remember, the Hyperboreansweresmart.” Elle turned to Anna. “I need your help. I’m not sure how much I can carry on my own.”
Anna looked confused, but she stood up. “From where?”
“We’re going back to that infernal garden.”
Elle rushed for the exit, drawing Anna with her.
Harper called after them. “Hurry. His body’s starting to tremor.”
Elle glanced back. Jason’s arms and limbs were quaking against the stone. She turned to Omryn. “Help hold him down. Keep him safe until we return.”
She didn’t wait for confirmation and set off at a fast walk, then a run.
Anna chased after her.
Elle didn’t slow when she reached the chamber with the mudpot. She angled to the side and over into the vine-encrusted corridor. She continued along it, breathing hard, driven by fear, but also by hope.
The distance to the garden was easy to gauge. The reek of decaying flesh grew richer with each passing meter. When it finally watered her eyes and churned her stomach, the end of the tunnel appeared.
