I hear Oak whisper something to one of the healers beside the bed, but I can’t make out the words, as if the daze I’m in is dulling all my senses. The large wooden door creaks open andis quickly shut once more, as if she is alerting someone in the hallway to my growing consciousness.
“Maines,” Oak whispers, but I keep my eyes shut. His hand travels back down to mine, and his rough fingers wrap around it like a perfect fit.
I don’t respond, partly because I’m not sure if I can, but instead, I squeeze Oak’s hand twice. I hear a muffled sob escape his throat as he stands, moving even closer to the bed this time.
“Maines Madden, open those beautiful eyes, darling,” his calm voice calls. “Please.”
I feel myself drifting back into the darkness of sleep, as if someone else is calling to me, pulling me deeper into thoughts of nothingness. I try to speak this time, but the pull drags me further down, and I can’t fight the sleep knocking at my mind. But fear floods me, because my last conscious thought is,this isn’t sleep.
Seconds, minutes, hours pass—I’m not sure which—and I feel myself resurfacing into reality again. I return to the pain and my own body, where I sense the ever-present light—Oak—surrounding me once more.
Another opening of the door catches my attention, and I hear footsteps approaching the bed. Oak lifts his head from the sheets once more to greet whoever is coming. The familiar smell of fresh florals mixed with a dark amber fills my nose, and I know who stands at the end of the bed.
Briar.
I slowly crack open my eyes, and the bright light blinds me momentarily. I squint against the contrast of the darkness I’m used to, and she comes into focus. Her beautiful black hair falls to her waist, and it’s soaking wet as she wears a face of concern. I smile, unable to resist the sight of her before me.
A rat.
She looks like a soaking wet rat.
I let my lips part, and a soft smile spreads across my face. Briar moves around the bed and sits next to Oak. I slowly shift my gaze until my eyes find his. Oak’s eyes are red and swollen, and a pang of hurt fills my heart, knowing I caused the worry reflected in his expression. His usually cheerful, handsome face is now clouded with anxiety and unease.
“There you are,” Oak whispers. “Thank the fucking Gods.”
He leans forward, kissing my forehead and nose, then moves to my lips, even as exhaustion washes over him. Oak’s kiss is tender and perfect like usual, yet I can taste the desperation on his lips, as if he never believed this would happen again.
I say a silent promise to myself that I will never cause him pain again until the day I die.
“I’m… here,” I respond.
Through the worry, he smiles, and I feel the pain in my legs disappear as happiness spreads through my body like wildfire. His dark eyes burn into mine, and I take a deep breath. Oak gently brushes my hair from my forehead, and I can’t help but let myself beam with love for him.
I’m safe.
I’m not sure what I’ve done in my life to deserve Oak Hombern, but I thank the Gods every day for him. He quickly stands and helps me sit up a bit in bed to get a better look at my friends before me. I can’t help but make a joke about Briar’s rat-like state, and her laughter fills the air like a wonderful dream.
We engage in a conversation about the chaos I caused, and I learn all the information I missed while I’ve been asleep. I try to stay alert and as cheerful as I can, but the pain is nearly unbearable. Every time I wince, Oak is right there, checking in or ensuring I can shift in bed to keep me as comfortable as possible. Without him, I doubt I would be here now.
The healers approach the bed, slowly lifting the sheets to examine my legs, and I fight the urge to give them orders, as if I’m back at the House of Hedro working on my own patients.
With each question I pose to Oak and Briar, I’m met with resistance, as if the true news they possess would overwhelm me too much. Exhaustion hangs over me like an ever-present veil, and I can’t shake the feeling of darkness coursing through my veins. Everything hurts, but this only amplifies my discomfort.
“You rest right now,” Briar says. “I love you, Maines.”
I smile and watch their faces fade as I close my eyes, only pretending that I’ve fallen asleep. I can hear them rustling around the room, and their voices begin to fade. Briar likely pulled Oak to a corner of the room to give me the quiet I need to rest.
Yeah, right.
I hear them begin to speak about me in hushed voices that I can barely make out. Their voices are filled with concern, and I fight the urge to open my eyes to announce that I’m not asleep and they should stop talking about me as if I’m dying. However, I guess I’ll cut them some slack, because I almost did.
The door opens once more, and I hear another person enter the room. Darkness envelops the space as it always does when he enters a room, and I recognize who has crossed the threshold.
Silas Nastronde.
I remain completely still, not alerting them to the fact that I’m awake and listening to their conversations. I hear Oak and Silas drift into their usual annoying banter while Briar huffs atthem to pay attention by snapping her fingers in their face. I fight back the urge to giggle.
A discussion arises about the recent events. They share their findings about the book, the ancient language, and how Oak’s grandfather can likely assist with the translation once we reach the mainland again.
