Page 63 of A Wayward Movement

The sympathy in her voice did nothing to help Xavier’s bruised dignity as he lay in a fetal position on the sand, clutching at his stomach. Pain was shooting through it at regular intervals, and it was a struggle to keep down his lunch.

Alina moved forward, shifting his sword to a safer distance, then feeling his forehead with the back of her hand.

“This is going to be a long night for you,” she said apologetically. “Without a physician to treat the symptoms, we’re just going to have to wait it out. You should be more or less fine by morning, but you’re going to feel as sick as a dog until then, I imagine.”

He could already feel the fuzziness of the basilisk’s magic thickening his head and stealing his ability to think clearly. But not so strongly that he had no capacity for vengeance.

“Did you kill it?” he moaned.

“No, it slithered away,” Alina said, busily shifting him into a better position.

He gave another groan, not fighting her efforts. “Just perfect. Why didn’t you kill it?”

“Oh, well, you know basilisks,” Alina said matter-of-factly, as she gingerly lifted his sword. “They’re more scared of us than we are of them. It seemed mean-spirited.”

“Well, I’d hate to be mean-spirited toward the poor, defenseless, little thing,” Xavier grumbled as a fresh wave of agony lanced through his stomach.

He watched through a haze as Alina looked carefully between the sword and the tree, then shook her head.

“I doubt I can lop it off,” she muttered to herself. “Better to just set fire to it where it is, maybe.”

Zuzu curled up against Xavier’s side, purring gently and apparently untroubled by his plight.

“Get up, you lazy creature.” He prodded her with a weak finger. “You need to fly around so Alina can use your Dust to start the fire.”

“Oh yes, would you mind, Zuzu?”

Alina asked the question as if the anzu was a human, and it seemed to work. Zuzu’s feline orbs shot a look full of offense in Xavier’s direction, but she strutted toward Alina with every appearance of cooperating. The next moment, she’d taken to the air, flying in surprisingly graceful circles around them.

Xavier closed his eyes, his head too thick and his insides roiling too much to be able to focus on Alina’s craft as she manipulated the anzu’s Dust. A moment later, he felt heat flicker against his skin. Squinting through the fog of his mind, he saw the tree being engulfed by steady flame.

“Lucky we ended up near this,” Alina said cheerfully. “Making a fire without proper fuel would have been too great a tax on my resources, probably, once the shield is up as well.”

“No shield,” Xavier kept the words brief, given his last meal was trying to escape along with them. “Just the fire.”

“Don’t trouble yourself,” Alina said soothingly. “I won’t overdo it.”

Xavier groaned, wishing he had the ability to stop her. But he could barely move.

“Don’t tell Theo and Mim about this,” he murmured.

Alina laughed. “Poor, charming, capable, much-admired Crown Prince Xavier. It’s quite a blow to the pride, falling afoul of an alicanto and a basilisk in the same day.”

He kept his eyes squeezed shut, so had no warning before he felt her leg against his back and her hand on his forehead again.

“I shouldn’t laugh,” Alina said repentantly. “I really am sorry for how you must be feeling. It’s just…a basilisk, Xavier?”

“I know,” Xavier sighed. “Even children know better than to look right at a sand-colored snake.”

“On the bright side,” she said cheerfully, “you’re probably feeling so sick in your stomach that you won’t regret the lack of any food tonight.”

He opened one eye, peering up at where she’d settled herself behind him on the sand. “But you will,” he said. “I wish I had something with me.”

“I’ll be fine,” Alina assured him. “I’m used to more meager fare than your royal self.”

That didn’t comfort Xavier at all, but he didn’t have strength to fight. He felt horribly weak, and his throat was burning.

“We didn’t even bring water,” he murmured.