Page 45 of Into The Green

No. Nope. No way. "Yeah," I said, giving him a tight smile. "I have Onyx and my fireworks, we'll be fine."

"I'll be back before nightfall," he vowed and moved off, leaving me alone with nothing but my thoughts.

I ripped a long strip of material from my dress and wrapped up my ankle, silently praying it was just twisted and not broken. Not that it made a difference. There was nothing to be done for it even if it was broken. If there was one thing I missed about the human realm, it was actual medicine. I wondered if Jasper would make it without real medicine. And even if the natural stuff did work, how long would it take? Days? Weeks? Would we be stuck there uselessly while any traces of Jade disappeared? And even if he did recover from his beating, if we didn't find Jade, that might just kill him anyway.

I sighed, moving over toward Jasper and getting onto my side facing him, preventing him from moving that way either. I closed my eyes to quiet my thoughts, but with my hand on Jasper's arm, I drifted into a deep dreamless sleep.

It was the shaking that woke me up.

It was slowly at first, a distant acknowledgment of the sensation, like a phone vibrates on the nightstand and wakes you up slightly before you pass back out again. My eyes fluttered open slightly to find everything dark. Then the clarity hit me hard and fast.

Jasper was shaking.

I shot up, looking down at him. His skin was glistening with sweat and when I reached toward him, I found him impossibly hot. He had an infection. I looked around frantically, trying to find Doyle, but he was nowhere. Onyx sat up. "Go find Doyle," I demanded. He whined at me and the message was clear: he didn't want to leave me. "Please, please I need him."

Responding perhaps to the sheer desperation in my voice, he shot off.

With no water, no fresh yarrow, no nothing, all I could do was sit there and worry and watch Jasper suffer, my heart and stomach in knots.

Hours passed. The sun started to peek through the trees. Then and only then did I hear footsteps. But from the wrong direction. My forcefield shot up instantly, reaching wide, half covering Jasper along with me.

Onyx bounded into view first, half a dozen gourds around his neck. Fresh water. Doyle moved in next and the forcefield dropped. "Sorry. I know, I know," he rushed, dropping down with me. "But I knew it was bad and I don't know anything about this. Jasp is the one who knows herbal medicine. So I needed to go get help."

"You got a healer?" My heart swelled at the idea. "Where is he?"

"It doesn't work that way," Doyle said, laying out some fresh yarrow, roses, chamomile, and fresh cloth. "They just give you satchels of shit and you figure out how to use it."

"Okay," I said, taking a breath, trying to not be disappointed. Medicine was medicine even if I needed to administer it myself. "What did you get?"

He pulled out little cheesecloth-like bags. "Cinnamon, mint, ginger, garlic, turmeric..."

"That's it?" I asked, helpless to know what to do with any of that.

"Cayenne pepper and honey."

My head snapped up. Red pepper and honey. Cayenne pepper was used by hikers and campers. I dated an outdoorsy type in high school who used to have it in his camping bag. It was small and easy to carry but, when put on cuts or wounds, it healed. It burned like a mother, but it healed. The honey too had antibacterial properties. The rest, I had no idea what to do with, but I could at least use those two.

"This is going to suck," I told Doyle, moving behind Jasper and pulling off the cloth which pulled most of the yarrow with it.

"Oh fuck," Doyle said, mirroring my thoughts as I tried to keep my stomach contents down.

Every cut was literally weeping with infection. I took the water, washing as much away as I could, then ripped the pepper baggy from Doyle and started pouring it. Jasper roared in his fever dreams in response and Doyle had to hold him still as I finished then covered the powder with the sticky honey. I piled on more yarrow, just to be safe, and put fresh cloth over the whole of it.

"What about the rest of this?" Doyle asked, motioning toward the baggies of spices and herbs.

It couldn't have all been meant to use as a poultice. So if it wasn't for that, maybe... "Is there anything you can use to boil water around here? I think this is supposed to be made into a tea."

Doyle looked a little bemused for a second, going into his backpack and producing a small mason jar. "He gave me this too. I didn't know what for. Guess it's good you did. I'll start a fire."

So then we filled the jar with water, dropped in cinnamon sticks, a hunk of garlic, pieces of ginger and all the spices and let it steep until it looked as awful as it smelled. We strained out the big pieces and poured the finished product into an empty gourd.

"That should be fun to get in him," Doyle said, moving to hold his friend still.

"Here goes nothing," I said, lining the tea up to his lips and pouring some into his mouth. He coughed and spat immediately, splattering my face with the mix.

"Told you," Doyle said, trying to keep things light.

But I was determined. I reached with my free hand and pinched his nose, waiting a second, then pouring until there was nothing left. Some slid down his face and chest, but a good amount got inside.