Chapter 26

Emmalee

I’d always taken my family’s love for granted. A given.

Benjamin and Angie’s protectiveness after the canisters had fallen was sometimes a source of annoyance for me.

Now I understood. I would do anything, and I mean anything to keep them safe. Even if that meant protecting them from our own father and brother. And of course, especially Barty’s-a-shit.

BACK AT BASE CAMP

The feel of the slimy coating covering the fyre eggs felt odd. Cool and slippery, and very thick. As I dug my thumbnail into the spongy…goo…for I had no other comparison, and sloughed off the residual whatever the water reed had deposited onto the eggs overnight, I tried not to think too much.

I was glad that Barty’s-a-shit had gone with the others. I still hadn’t reconciled myself to the fact that there might be more to what I’d seen the day the canisters fell. More to Jake’s death.

I know I confused my sister Angie when I’d refused to go with the small group.

I would have loved to have gone. To have Car-, no Barty’s-a-shit describe what I’d been told were the most beautiful creatures in our world. I couldn’t. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

The fyre wings’ song didn’t sound right. I’d picked up the odd noise the night before while bathing in the stream with the other women and Mylane.

The usual bleep, bleep, pause had a rhythmic sound, soft toned, almost musical. A very pleasant, calming sound to my ears. This disturbing bloop, bloop, bloop I was hearing was fast, irregular, and hollow. An ugly sound, and it reverberated through me, making me edgy.

I’d wanted to warn Angie not to go. I can’t explain why I was suddenly so scared for my sister. She was tough and could take care of herself, still until she returned I knew I would worry. And besides if I’d said anything Angie would have made me reveal my secret. That I could hear the fyre wings’ song.

Okay, so my actions of gathering the basis for water reed salve wasn’t keeping my mind occupied and off of my worries.

I hated to admit it to myself. I missed Barty’s-a-shit’s voice. His excited tones when we were discussing some new find regarding the canister effects that Calvin had come across. His laughter when I’d said something that he thought was unexpectedly funny. But what I missed most of all though, was his soft murmurs of warm chitter-chatter. Barty’s-a-shit was constantly telling me what was going on. Filling me in on all the small details of life that I couldn’t see. Now that was all gone.

I shoved my sense of loneliness away. I focused my attention back to my task. It didn’t last for long.

I sighed. It bothered me that Barty’s-a-shit had spoken very little to me over the past few days. When he had his voice was, different, harder, and far sharper. The edge of impatience and anger clearly out there in the forefront. I was not pleased with the change. I told myself, what did I care? I hated him. Hated Barty’s-a-shit. Still I felt horrible and lost.

I’d been alone for the last couple of hours. Sitting on the sandy edge of the stream where Stevron had brought me. How many fyre eggs I had scraped and then placed the gooey substance into sealed containers, I’d lost count. When I felt for the edge of the pile, my waterlogged fingertips told me I still have plenty left to finish before my task was complete.

I heard my brother Jam long before he ambled through the dry grass to reach the rocky slope that edged down to the stream. His gait was measured, steady, and his breathing was slow and laboured.

I wiped my hands onto my pants. Felt my pruned digits grazing the coarse material as I rose to my feet.

I mentally counted the steps as I headed toward Jam. The ground was sandy. I felt my feet sink as I took each step. When I stopped hearing his feet slapping gently against the rocks I put out an arm. I smiled when he took my elbow. Now that I was standing next to him I noticed that his breathing was less shallow this morning. Stronger and punctuated with a little less pain. My brother was doing better.

He guided me back the way I had come. When he finally stopped I helped ease him down onto the sandy bank. I could now hear the gentle lapping of the water against the sandy shore.

“Would you put this into the water for me?”

Jam pressed a strip of cloth into my hand. I knelt and felt for the water’s edge.

“Do you think we’ll find some waxberyle bush?”

I squished the cloth around in the cool water and then wrung it out. “I don’t know,” I answered.

Waxberyle bush leaves were a key component to what made the water reed salve so effective. Once dried the leaves of the waxberyle would crystallize, enabling the tiny chunks to be crushed and mixed with the spongy goo I was scraping off of the fyre eggs.

Waxberyle had always been a rare plant to find. Making the little blue tablets called Waxberylant, made from both the leaves and berries of the plant, a highly sought after commodity.

It had been almost a year since our crew had come across any of the plant. I’d heard Donahue mentioning to Angie only this morning that he was almost completely out of Waxberylant. Another consequence of the Doorcou attack.

I turned to my brother and held out the cloth. Jam took it from my hand. A moment later I heard my brother’s muffled sigh.

“I don’t think it’s wise to put that cloth over your mouth. Stevron said the water isn’t fit to drink.”

Jam must have removed the cloth for his words were clear again. “He said breathing in the moisture droplets from a cloth would be good for my lungs. But only for a few minutes.”

I swallowed. Stevron seemed to know a lot about the area and this particular stream. I took him at his word. I trusted Stevron.

I sat down beside my brother since I had no sense of where the pile of fyre eggs I’d been working on were now located. I wasn’t prepared for his question.

“What did Jake tell you?”

The breath rushed out of me.

“About me? About my wounds?”

I licked my lips. My experience with Jake in my head roared back into my mind. The chaos, the anger…the fear, and oh yes, his pain. I felt myself shiver.

“Come on, Em. We both know he told you I wasn’t expected to live. Tell me how much time I have left? I have a right to know.”

“You’re going to be fine.”

I heard my brother emit a growling sound. “Em…”

I shivered again and shook my head. “I can’t tell you.”

“I’m your brother. What do I have, days, weeks…hours?”

“Jake didn’t tell me.”

“You’re lying, Em.”

©Legend of the Sapphyre Wings by Janet Merritt