“What could affect your mind like that?” Sage demanded.
Merletta shook her head helplessly. “I don’t know. But it was just as they described, wasn’t it? Hallucinations, panic, then illness.”
“Are you saying,” Sage sounded more frightened than ever, “are you saying that whatever happened to the guards really did happen to you?”
Merletta glanced around to make sure they were still alone, then met her friend’s eyes seriously. “Except I didn’t die, did I? I feel fine. Which supports the theory that the guards were killed, rather than dying of the ailment, whatever it is.”
“If someone was going to kill the guards to silence them,” Sage objected, “why not just do it? Why not attack them when they were next out on a patrol? What’s the point of making them sick first?”
Merletta thought it over for a moment. “I suppose,” she said slowly, “the point was to discredit whatever they’d reported by making everyone think they’d been hallucinating. And,” she added, on a sudden thought, “to make everyone more afraid than ever about going near land.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” said Sage reluctantly. It was clear to Merletta that part of her friend still wanted to believe the whole thing was just a big misunderstanding.
“Of course it does,” said Merletta, pushing herself to a sitting position at last. “The idea of losing your mind to an invisible and incurable sickness is enough to terrify anyone. It terrified me when I was delirious. I know better than anyone that land sickness isn’t real, but even I started to believe I had it. I almost said it aloud. I was regretting going to the island on my rest day, and I nearly said that, too.”
“You went to the island on your rest day?” Sage repeated, sounding horrified. “And you didn’t tell me?”
But Merletta was barely listening. She felt her eyes go wide as the implication set in. “Whoever caused my delirium must have known it,” she whispered. “They must have been trying to discredit me, maybe even to use the false illness to prove that I’d been near land. And it almost worked—I almost blurted it out. But I was so careful on rest day,” she muttered to herself. “I was sure no one was following me.”
“Merletta, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’d been—”
Sage broke off abruptly, and Merletta looked up to see the last merperson she expected float into the room.
“Emil,” she said blankly.
His gaze flicked to Sage, then returned to Merletta, looking her over calmly. “You’re awake. That’s a good sign.”
“I…yes,” said Merletta lamely. “I feel fine now.”
He nodded wisely, drifting over to float near Sage. “That’s good to hear.”
“What are you doing here?” Merletta asked blankly, looking between the two of them. “And come to think of it, where is here?”
“You’re in the Center’s infirmary,” Sage explained quickly. “And Emil has been here a lot since you collapsed. One of us has been with you all the time. You’ve never been alone.”
“What do you mean since I collapsed?” Merletta asked ominously.
“The memorial was two days ago,” Emil said.
“I’ve been out for two days?” Merletta demanded.
“I believe you were given a sedative when you were brought in here,” said Emil, still placid. “But as Sage said, one of us has been with you at all times since then.”
Merletta stared between them. “Thank…you?” In her confusion, it came out like a question.
Sage gave a tight smile. “It was Emil who suggested we shouldn’t leave you alone,” she said. “He seemed to think you might be in danger.”
Merletta looked at the young record holder in amazement. “What made you think that?” she asked, as innocently as she could manage.
Emil lowered himself onto an empty hammock beside Merletta’s, his face even more serious than usual. “It struck me,” he said evenly, “that you displayed symptoms similar to the ailment that gripped that unfortunate guard patrol. And they, as we all know, died shortly after falling ill.”
Merletta stared at him. Was he acknowledging her theory? Did he know what had happened? Or was he just sharing her suspicion? Either way, she was completely stunned to hear him expressing such thoughts.
“Well, I haven’t died,” she said bluntly. “And it occurs to me that I may well have the two of you to thank for that.”
“Perhaps,” said Emil, looking thoughtfully at Sage. “Perhaps not.”
Merletta waited, but it seemed he wasn’t going to elaborate. After a prolonged silence, he said, still in his usual calm voice, “Am I right in guessing that prior to your collapse, you experienced some kind of hallucination?”