Then I was alone.
I gripped the sword to my chest and finally let myself breathe, practically hyperventilate, as I stood between the trees, truly let myself feel the fear now that my life had been spared. But within seconds, the urgency of my mission returned, and I sheathed my blade and headed to the group of flowers that could save Morco.
I sliced them all at the root and stuffed them into my pack, taking every single flower I could, harvesting at least a dozen. I wanted to search for more because this opportunity might never come again, but every second was precious.
I returned the way I’d come, trying to be quiet but moving quicker than I had before, knowing I could sprint back to the hole if I were being pursued. I passed the rocks then entered the forest, and the closer I came to security, the faster I moved.
When I had eyes on the crack in the rock, I ran for it.
Caius’s face became visible, and he stepped aside so I could make my way in.
He pushed hard on the rock and rolled it across the hole, blocking the crack from sight or entry. “Did you get it?”
“Yes. Hurry.”
We ran back without stopping, making the return trip quicker than the journey there, and when we rowed across in the boat, Caius got us there in record time. When my feet hit the earth, the fatigue struck me like a rock to the head, but I pushed on.
We ran down the path from the shore and made it inland, and the second we were there, I dropped my sword and my pack on the table.
“What now?” Caius dropped his things where he stood, his face caked in sweat, his clothes damp.
I removed the petals from the bag. “Mortar and pestle.”
“What?”
“I need something to grind this down.”
He ran off to retrieve the proper tool.
I removed the petals from the stems and set them on the table. Other people were at the Gathering, but it was dead silent. They didn’t seem to understand what was happening, like Morco’s sickness had been kept a secret.
Caius returned with a circular rock and a plate.
I started to grind the petals, breaking up the surface to unleash the chemical properties inside. The residue was yellow like the streaks, and then the stench wafted up to my nose. I broke them down until the purple color faded, and then I lifted the plate. “Come on, let’s go.”
We ran to his cabin, and I was careful not to spill the precious flowers I’d risked my life to get. We reached the door, and Caius threw it open first then stepped aside for me to enter. Morco was unconscious in bed, shirtless and coated in sweat, his facial features tight in pain. An older woman was at his bedside holding his hand, and I assumed she was his mother.
“Move.” Caius grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away.
“She’s returned,” she said with a gasp.
“I need him to ingest this,” I said.
Caius grabbed Morco’s jaw and forced it open.
I packed the contents into his mouth, giving him the biggest dose I could, considering the progression of his sickness. It might not be enough. Every Pedalium flower might not be enough in his case.
Caius got the contents down by pouring water into his mouth and forcing him to swallow.
Morco tried to cough, but Caius cupped his mouth so the medicine wouldn’t escape. Morco didn’t fight it, drifting back off into a sickness-induced coma.
“His arm.” I left the rest for the wound, knowing it had burrowed deep within his flesh. “I’ll need to cut through the webbing to get the medicine to the source of the sickness. I need gauze to stop the bleeding.”
The maid left to get what I asked for. Liam produced a dagger and handed it to me.
A rush of guilt surged through me for what I was about to do, but Morco’s life hung in the balance. I gently sliced the blade acrossthe thick webbing that had grown over his skin and encountered another layer below. I had to keep cutting until I found the flesh underneath, and a large amount of yellow pus poured out of the wound and dripped down his arm. I continued to slice, removing the excess tissue that had made a home in his skin and hacked it away, taking off layer after layer like a peeled onion until I reached the flesh and blood underneath. The smell was repugnant, enough to create a rush of bile to my mouth.
When the infected skin had been removed and I had access to the tender flesh, I applied the crushed petals all along the opening and into the cut, coating it everywhere like a lotion to hydrate the skin. There was little blood, and I was glad I’d spared him further injury. “Bandages.”
