“You want me to tie a rope around your middle and drag you up?”
“Yes.”
“Not going to happen. Come on.”
Toran was slow moving up the stairs. The staircase was too narrow for them to climb side by side. He had to take the steps one at a time, shaking hands pressed to the walls on either side while she climbed behind him, a steadying hand on his back. They reached her bedroom, and Toran braced himself against the doorway. Nes’s bed was made, the sheets clean. Suri’s doing, no doubt.
Genna was huddled under a pile of blankets on Suri’s bed. Toran walked to Nes’s, quaking hands gripping the thin bedpost.
It hurt to see him so fragile. She ached for him to throw her a smile, but his lips pressed together hard, as if he feared they’d fall off should he open his mouth.
She rifled through Suri’s clothes, searching for something for Toran. Suri, for reasons she chose not to share with Nes, owned clothing of nearly every size. Pants three sizes too big and shirts six sizes too small. Even multiple sets of undergarments meant for men and women and some things Nes wasn’t sure were actually meant for people.
When Nes had asked Suri about the clothing, Suri had simply said, “It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
Prepared for what, she didn’t know. She found a pair of pants and a shirt that looked close to Toran’s size and placed them on the bed in front of him. Toran reached around and deposited her cloak, stiff with chill and well water, into her open hands.
“I’ll wait in the hall while you change.”
Toran gave her a jerky nod, and she left the room. She didn’t close the bedroom door, instead choosing to stand a few steps away, her back to the doorway. She tapped her thumbs against the tips of her fingers and waited.
He would call her back when he was ready.
A thud—solid and loud—echoed through the floorboards and walls.
“Toran?”
He didn’t answer.
“Toran?”
She risked a glance over her shoulder. Toran lay on the floor, curled on his side, completely naked. The new pants she’d left for him lay next to the wet ones he’d discarded before collapsing. She raced into the bedroom, her heart galloping.
“Toran!”
She knelt beside him, a hand to his chest. Eyes ononlyhis chest.
His breaths were slow, barely lifting her hand, and his heart beat erratically. She tried to catch her own breath, but it seemed intent on slipping away.
“Oh, Goddess.”
Nes whirled. Suri stood in the doorway, a hand over her mouth,the other clutching more blankets. In the light, the full horror of her expression was a brick to Nes’s gut.
“Help me get him into bed.”
Suri didn’t protest. She rushed to Toran, grabbing his feet as Nes hooked her arms under his armpits. They lifted him onto the bed. Nes pulled blankets up over his body, tucking them in around his sides, but he still shook. On the other side of the room, Genna’s form quaked.
“It’s not enough,” she whispered.
“I don’t think we can carry them both back downstairs to the fireplace,” Suri said, a crack in her normally steady voice.
“We can’t.” It was a fact. And the blankets—no matter how many of them there were—weren’t enough.
“What do we do?”
Nes pulled her shirt over her head and unbuttoned her pants. A chill ran through her as she shoved her pants to her ankles. She glanced at Suri, then to Genna and Toran. “Warm them up.”
Suri followed Nes’s lead and began stripping the clothes from her lithe body.
