Page 89 of Suncatcher

She fumbled with the buttons on her waistcoat, far too hot and suffocating, her hands not functioning properly.

“What can I do?” Driz demanded.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Just need some food.”

Her throat itched and stung. Her mother always made her honeyed water when she was sick.

Pearl missed her mother.

No, she didn’t. The longing melted into anger and resentment as she remembered the last time she had seen her.

Pearl pushed herself up to stand, reaching for her boots, and suddenly she was lurching, the hard ground approaching. A strong hand caught her face a breath from the stone.

“Rest. I will hunt.”

Pearl nodded reluctantly, allowing Driz to guide her to lie back down. She coughed again.

“I will be back as soon as I can,” Driz promised, her voice far away as Pearl slipped into the darkness.

Driz had meant to go hunting, but as soon as Pearl closed her eyes, Driz knew something was truly wrong.

“Pearl?” Driz brushed the hair back from her face. Her cheeks and neck were flushed and too hot to the touch.

When Pearl didn’t respond or open her eyes, Driz’s wings flared in alarm, the gust guttering the fire.

“Please wake up,” Driz said, shaking her gently.

Driz had never been unable to wake her before. Pearl didn’t just need food. She needed help. But Driz knew nothing about human sickness. Panic filled her.

The other humans would know what to do.

She tried to finish pulling on the boot for Pearl, but Driz’s hands were clumsy in her distress, her claws puncturing the leather. Useless.

Driz tucked the boots into Pearl’s saddlebags instead, wearing them around her neck, and gathered Pearl up into her arms. She was limp and still far too hot.

“I am taking you home,” Driz promised, not certain if Pearl could hear her. Pearl might be angry when she woke. But Driz didn’t know what else to do. She was terrified of doing the wrong thing, and she had no one to ask.

She would not take the risk. Not with Pearl.

The night was too cold, and Pearl burned too hot as Driz flew as fast as she could back toward Salt Bluff. Since they had traveled mostly on foot, it thankfully wasn’t far, and Driz pushed her wings, uncaring of the strain in them.

She landed in the street in front of Pearl’s home. A woman shrieked, standing on the porch by the bright, noisy saloon.

Driz spoke to the wide-eyed young woman. “Help. Please, help her.”

The woman looked from Driz to Pearl and dashed inside.

The landing must have woken Pearl, because she stirred in Driz’s arms. “What’re you doing?” Pearl mumbled, her voice thin and weak.

“Getting you help.”

The doors banged open and several people spilled out toward them. In the front was Oak.

“Pearl.”

“Ma?” Pearl turned her head.

Oak strode right up to Driz, shoving the barrel of the gun into her cheek as she wrapped her other arm around Pearl’s shoulders, trying to take her from Driz’s grasp. “Let her go,” Oak growled.