Esaias attempted a laugh, but he erupted into a coughing fit. He tried to sit up. The quilt fell from his chest, revealing the beginnings of black lines running like veins across his chest.
“Esaias.” Theo’s voice was breathless.
He dropped back to the bed, his hand reaching for his heaving chest. “I know,” he whispered. “Scrying fever.”
“How is that possible? There hasn’t been a case in Godwin for years.” Theo pulled his shirt over his face and stepped back. The only cases of scrying fever he’d ever encountered were in Mosfelkov during the war when it wiped out half a company.
“Theo, I need you to do something for me.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Theo shot at him. “You’re not dying.”
“Please,” he whispered, his voice raspy. Esaias turned away, coughing into his elbow.
“Why has no one sent for Amaris? Why was Onika even in here?”
“I tried to throw her out, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”
Onika wasn’t one to take risks. She may have sailed with them during the war to assist the mystiques and perform other duties, such as cleaning and cooking in the camps, but she was often far from the fighting.
“What can be done?”
“Nothing,” Esaias said.
“There can’t be nothing. What about Cornelius’s journal? Has Onika looked in there?”
He’d attempted to find a treatment during the war and spent countless hours concocting various tonics.
“I’m not sure.”
Theo sat back, running his hands through the strands of his hair. He couldn’t lose Esaias. No one else, never again. “Amaris must know something. She saved me for realm’s sake.”
“It’s useless,” Esaias mumbled. “Burn my body, and all my possessions while you’re at it, to keep it from spreading.”
Rather than argue, Theo ran out the door and headed toward the library.
Chapter 18
Amaris
Amaris was attemptingto keep count of the days with small tally marks she’d dug into one of the legs of the worktable, but with getting knocked out and forgetting here and there, it was hard to tell.Nine or ten days? Maybe more?
Pricilla didn’t seem to understand personal space when she visited Amaris almost every day to go over the various herbs and where to go about finding things around the tower. Her company, however, was better than Theodoric’s. Amaris refused to utter a word to him, and he retaliated with beastly grunts the few times they’d run into each other.
Sephardi was the one who picked her up from her room to grab breakfast each morning before settling her into the mystique tower. Amaris had first thought Sephardi was going to be like the rest of them, but she had an interesting nature about her as she smirked and sat in one of the chairs by the fireplace. She wasn’t one for conversation, though, as she shuffled through various pieces of parchment.
An echo of heeled boots rang through the stairwell, and Amaris and Sephardi both turned to find Adelaide with a large wicker basket restingon her hip. “More herbs for you.”
Adelaide gave her a funny expression, likely because Amaris was staring at her as if she were a figment of her imagination. She hadn’t seen her since that first time, and since she wasn’t a soldier, Amaris had lost faith she’d help her escape.
Sephardi offered Adelaide a quick nod as she plopped the basket on the worktable and whistled, taking in the room. “You cleaned.”
“There isn’t much else for me to do.”
“Besides argue with my brother.”
Amaris didn’t bother entertaining her comment as she began sifting through the basket of new herbs. She hadn’t recognized a single one in all her cleaning, but with Pricilla’s help, maybe she would find a good place for them.
“Theo isn’t much for talking these days,” Adelaide continued.
