Chapter 6: Tavern District, Stone City, Harvest Moon Waxing
The fever worsened through the morning, and by the time Kajja and a Stone City healer arrived, Hendrik couldn’t string together a coherent sentence, let alone engage in conversation. He drifted in and out of consciousness, accepting and swallowing anything Dagan pressed on him, occasionally muttering about oddities that, a day ago, might’ve sounded surreal. Fire and oil, burning bodies, melting stones, collapsing buildings, mouths that stretched wide to tear into throats and drink and drink and drink.
“How long has he been like this?” Kajja asked, biting at her forefinger nervously as the healer poked at Hendrik’s leg.
“Hours,” Dagan replied. “He was mostly lucid when he woke up just before dawn. Himself. But not since.”
“He’s going to be so mad if he loses that leg.”
“Actually, he might not be,” Dagan said slowly. “I mean, it could’ve been the fever talking, but he told me all he cares about is being alive.”
Kajja’s dark eyebrows went up. “He said that?”
Dagan nodded. His eyes burned, but he was mostly confident he literally could not cry anymore, by then. His eye sockets felt full of sand.
She considered Hen quietly for a few moments.
Dagan asked, “How’s it going out there?”
“Do you want to come and see?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’d just want to be back here the whole time.”
“You’re sleeping and eating though, right?”
“Yeah. Of course.” Maybe not enough, but there’d be time for that. Later.
“I can help. Like maybe take it in shifts to sit with him.”
“If you want to come, come.” Dagan frowned then, realizing. “If you want some time alone with him, of course I’ll go.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” Kajja sighed and sat gingerly at the foot of the bed. “Every now and then one of us thinks about you two stuck here all alone and we just feel bad. Everything’s so vibrant out there right now. Scary as all the hells, but people are excited, you know? People who believe what’s really going on, anyhow.”
“And the people who don’t?”
“Mostly holed up still. It’s going to be the longest siege ever unless we can figure out how to get in, and all three of their strongholds are pretty watertight.” Kajja sighed. “Piret will probably come by tonight. She’s worried sick.”
“She didn’t look great either,” Dagan pointed out.
“She needs a moon-long nap, for sure.” Kajja shook her head. “Innan too. I really—I really thought you were all gone. Forever. I’ve never felt so empty. I never knew I could feel that empty. I don’t think I had a single thought until I saw you alive.”
Dagan held out his hands.
She let him pull her up and into his arms easily. She rested her head against his shoulder and said, almost in a whisper, “Thank you for saving them.”
Dagan barked out a laugh, surprised. “Innan saved us.”
“They said you did. Your quick thinking and sheer pig-headed drive to live.”
Which couldn’t have been further from the truth, though Dagan was beyond feeling ashamed of it, by then. Too many other feelings that should’ve taken precedence all along were in the way; maybe that’s why he hadn’t wanted to let them in. “They would. Trust me, it was all Innan.” He squeezed her a little tighter. “I was busy losing my mind, and Hendrik was delirious with pain.”
She squeezed back. “We’re bound together. All of us. You can’t escape me now, Dags.”
“Why would I ever want to, you lovely, perfect, genius thing, you? You were amazing down there in the tunnels, too.”
“Was I?” she sounded genuinely surprised to hear it.
He squeezed her tighter. “You went so calm while you were facing that thing. The rest of us were an ass-hair from losing our shit, and there you were, just talking to that creature, keeping it distracted. You were more than amazing.”
She pulled back, hands on his shoulders, and gave him the sweetest little smile, bright eyes crinkling just like Hen’s did when he was at his most sincere. “Thank you. I was pissing myself, though.”
“You’d have to be dead not to, sweetness.”
Kajja laughed and turned back to her brother and the healer fretting over him quietly. “Kon and Alara want to visit, too. They were trying to come with me today, but I wanted to warn you first.”
This was a little bit absurd for Dagan, because, “They’re his parents. They don’t need to warn me if they want to see him.”
“Oh. Well, okay then, but Alara might try to stick around. I told her you had it under control, but she never got to mother him much, so she might put up a fight.”
“He’s her son,” was all Dagan could say. By all the gods, these Stone City folk were strange about families.
“Right, then. She’s gonna love you. Just as a warning, though: She’s not really sure about all the, uh, political things right now. She’s conservative-minded. But she’s also inclined to believe her perfect son can do no wrong, so that helps.”
“And her perfect daughter?”
“That’s more Kon’s area.” She chuckled. “Though I forgot how much he looks like Hen with a beard. It’s wild.”
“Hen is extremely handsome with a beard,” Dagan assured her. “Even a terrible forest hermit beard.”
