“That is a question for the ages,” Destiny said. “But you started out with a sword, so I’ll give you credit for both.”
He didn’t reply. She was so happy that he was alive and she was alive and they had won and he was holding her that she assumed he was just savoring the moment, as she was. His skin was so warm…
No. Not warm. It was hot. And getting hotter by the second.
Alarmed, Destiny broke free of their embrace to look at him. Ethan’s face was very pale, with a bright red flush along the cheekbones. As she watched, he broke out in a sweat.
“I think the herb’s wearing off.” He stopped to cough, a painful, tearing sound. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse and weak. “Goddamn it. I didn’t want to be a burden—”
Then his knees buckled, his eyes closed, and he started to collapse. Destiny leaped forward to catch him. He was a dead weight, nearly knocking her down. She staggered, then crouched and pulled him over her shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Then she stood up, lifting from the knees. She could carry him, but he was much bigger than her, and heavy. She wouldn’t be able to get him very far, very fast…
…but the real problem was that they had no good place to go.
I suppose back to the palace is the best of a bunch of bad choices, she thought. With any luck, Ayers is the only one who managed to track us here, and now he’s dead and can’t report back. And anyone else who comes hunting us will find us just as easily in the jungle as in the city.
She carried Ethan back along the streets. Her tiger’s presence was strong in her mind as it paced back and forth, its tail swishing with anxiety and unfocused anger, but it didn’t try to take over. Destiny was less worried now that it would attack Ethan, and more that it would decide to run off into the jungle to hunt when she needed to stay human to take care of him.
No, I won’t, growled her tiger, sounding exasperated. Would you run off when he needs you? If you wouldn’t, I won’t either. After a moment, she added hopefully, But fresh meat would give him strength. Shall we make a soft, safe lair, and then hunt for him?
Let’s see how he is when we get to the lair, Destiny replied. But you’re right, he probably could use some nice, nourishing venison broth. Though I don’t think the lair will be safe if we leave him…
Her tiger snarled angrily, as unable as Destiny was to see any way to keep Ethan safe if they left his side. For her own part, Destiny was afraid that he might not be safe no matter what she did. His skin burned hotter and hotter, and every breath sounded like it might be his last.
Weight or no weight, she flat-out ran back to the palace. She stopped at the drawbridge, listening for any sound of something inside.
Let me help, her tiger offered. I can hear and smell better than you.
You can’t shift, Destiny warned her. I’m still carrying Ethan.
I know. Just let me come a little closer to the surface.
Nervously, Destiny didn’t fight as she felt her tiger enhance her senses. Her hearing became much sharper, her sense of smell a hundred times more so. But hard as she sniffed and carefully as she listened, she hea
rd nothing but the whisper of wind, the flutter of leaves, and the labored rasp of Ethan’s breath, and smelled nothing but dust and herbs and Ethan’s sweat.
She laid him down on the floor to pull up the drawbridge. When she stooped to pick him up again, fear struck through her heart at how pale and vulnerable he looked. They might be safe from enemies inside the palace, but his most deadly enemy was inside his own body, and there was no fighting that.
Just like me, Destiny thought, trying to keep the thought in the back of her mind, safe from her tiger’s prying claws. Neither of us has ever been afraid of what’s outside. Only of what’s inside…
She picked him up and brought him back to his bed, where she took off his boots and belt and tiger claws, and tried to make him as comfortable as she could. Destiny hated to leave him alone, but all her supplies were in the kitchen. She left the tiger claws on the bed beside him, just in case; she couldn’t imagine he’d be able to use them, but if he woke up, he’d at least know she was near. No one else would know to leave them by his hand as a defense and a comfort. Then she bolted out of the room.
She hurried around the kitchen, making use of the herbs she already had and cursing her inability to go search for more. But she didn’t dare leave Ethan alone in the palace. She made some more syrup for soothing coughs and hot tea to keep him hydrated, feeling all the while like she was slapping a Band-Aid over a bullet wound. Then she cut up another mango, dipped some cloths in cool water, piled everything on a tray, and returned to his room.
He hadn’t moved from where she’d left him. She set down the tray on the table and stroked the damp hair back from his forehead. His skin was like fire. He turned his head slightly, moving into her touch.
“You awake?” she asked quietly.
His eyes opened slowly. His blue-green gaze was glassy and unfocused.
“Ellie?” he mumbled.
“It’s Destiny. Ellie’s not here.”
He didn’t seem to hear her, and he obviously wasn’t seeing her. “Ellie, call in to the base for me. Tell them I’m sick. I’m not…” He coughed painfully. “…not fit to ship out.”
“I’ll make the call. Don’t worry about it.” Destiny wiped the sweat from his face with a damp cloth, then coaxed him to take a spoonful of the cough syrup.
He swallowed it, then closed his eyes. She was debating whether it was worth waking him up to get him to drink some tea when he opened his eyes, pushed himself up on one elbow, and shouted hoarsely, “Valdez! Valdez! Stop fighting, we have to go back! Merrick, grab his other arm!”