Bisma rushed down to the main room, then dashed to the kitchen, where Mei was lying on the floor.
‘What happened?’ she cried, falling to her knees by Mei’s side. Mei was unconscious, her silky black hair spread around her head like spilled ink.
The veins of her arms were an unnatural dark blue. Bisma had never seen anything like it before. The girls were right; it was a poisoning. It could not be anything else. Rage whipped through Bisma, fire-hot.
Mei’s chest gently rose and fell; Bisma forced herself to focus. At the very least, Mei was breathing. The girls were all gathered around her: Luna’s eyes were wide as she held sleeping baby Deeba; Azalea looked horrified, a hand covering her mouth; and Nori was pulling at Mei’s hand with both of hers.
‘Mei, wake up,’ Nori said, her little voice worried.
Bisma felt the skin of Mei’s arm, which was freezing cold. She ran a hand along Mei’s dark veins, which were raised. She didn’t understand the symptoms.
‘Get blankets,’ Bisma said. ‘And a pillow for her head. Did she fall?’
It wasn’t good that Mei was so cold.
Azalea ran to get blankets, while Luna said, ‘I think so but I’m not sure, none of us actually saw. I heard a thud and when I turned around she was on the floor.’
‘I asked her to bring me a snack,’ Nori said, eyes welling with tears.
‘Shh, it’s okay,’ Bisma said, putting her hands on Nori’s shoulders. ‘It isn’t your fault, sweet.’
But whose fault was it?
Who would poison Mei, and how did they do it?
Bisma set those questions to one side; she had to focus.
‘Get her up onto the sofa,’ she ordered. ‘And get her warm. I’ll be back.’
Mind racing, Bisma ran down to her garden. Wind howled around her as she went directly to her cart. Bottles clinked together as she rummaged through potions, trying to find something, anything.
Finally, she found a generic cure-all that she sometimes sold with her poisons, especially to mothers with small children who were afraid of their children accidentally ingesting poison. The cure-all wasn’t guaranteed to be an antidote, but it was better than nothing.
Grabbing the dark pink bottle, Bisma ran back up to the main room of the treehouse, then dashed to the kitchen. The cure-all was made of gullshamdani, a purple flower with hairy-toothed leaves; the root was dried then crushed, but to be effective it needed to be mixed with milk and sugar.
‘Baji,’ Nori called, her voice worried.
‘Just a moment,’ Bisma said, making the mixture, using her magic to stir it more quickly. ‘Done.’
In three large steps she was back in the main room, where Luna had set Deeba down and was sitting beside Mei, holding her hand as it dangled off the sofa. Bisma went down on her knees beside her, lifting Mei’s little head up, Mei’s dark hair soft in Bisma’s shaking hand.
‘Azalea, Luna, help me hold her up,’ Bisma said.
Azalea did as she was told, holding Mei up from the other side, while Luna held Mei’s head from beside Bisma. With Bisma’s free hand, she opened Mei’s mouth and with the other, dribbled in some of the cure-all. Pink liquid wet Mei’s lips, a drop falling down her chin and onto her dress.
‘Tilt her head back a little,’ Bisma ordered.
The girls did as they were told, and they watched with bated breath, waiting to see if Mei would swallow.
At last, Mei’s throat moved.
‘Sit her up,’ Bisma said.
Azalea and Luna helped lift her up fully and Bisma sat on the sofa behind her, so Mei could lean against her. The weight of her sister felt both too heavy and too light. ‘Nori, angel, can you rub Mei’s feet please?’
Nori nodded. Reaching under the blanket, she rubbed Mei’s feet as Bisma waited. ‘Luna, Azalea, her hands,’ Bisma said, and they began to rub her hands.
They all held their breath, watching.
