Page 77 of Beast and Remedy
Beau’s thoughtful compromise works well for everyone, and they agree, but I can’t help but feel it is targeted toward me.
Does he understand? Can he see what I mean and why we can’t and shouldn’t be alone? Should I even say anything?
My mind wanders in circles with never-ending questions as Jules, Beau, and I stay behind, recording everything in my collection as the others head for the library.
The torture I am enduring today is only the beginning.
Correspondence from each kingdom filters in as my friends and I gather, collect, and note the possible outbreaks of infection. Palaena shelters our people in their lands and sends books and letters with their messengers. And Papa’s responses are one thing keeping Marian upbeat.
It was a relief to receive a response from Unterkirch, the kingdom where all healers traveled to learn the craft. Many students and professors in their region share their knowledge with us and offer suggestions for treatments.
Northtry, however, didn’t offer the same budding assistance. They simply wished us well and will await news with a solution. It struck me as odd to receive such a response, given the princeand the king recently visited. They were formal but seemed likely to help us should we ask.
But then again, they have always kept to themselves.
My eyes feel permanently glued open and fatigued from poring over texts from Palaena, letters from Unterkirch’s healers, as well as our own books and the ingredients on hand. It doesn’t help that Beau studies me day in and day out, nor does it help that Jean and Pierre berate me into updates at the end of each day.
We don’t have much to go off of, and the pressure buries me.
Beau has taken over monitoring Marian. His healing sessions with her will be easier to offer and allow him to track any changes.
But I haven’t been brave enough to ask him if he gained any insight while treating her. Being in close proximity to him may trigger warning signs of the deep affection we keep secret from everyone.
Yet, as I take turns helping everyone read, record, and list possible outcomes, nothing is happening. No mentions of new animal attacks or others getting infected.
It is a good and bad thing. Because I need more guidance, more information, moresomethingto help Marian.
It burrows deep in my chest as the days drag on, the anger of no progress driving me to a breaking point. My white-knuckled fists do nothing to help the tension growing in my head, the searing pain blooming behind my eyelids. The lack of sleep and food worsens everything.
“Vi?” Jules calls, pulling me from my dazed reverie.
“What?” I snap, harsh enough for everyone’s conversations to halt.
My friend studies me cautiously, and I rub my face, trying to breathe out the frustration in my heart at my own misgivings. It’s not any of their faults, and yet here I am, unleashing my fury.
“Sorry.”
My half-assed attempt at cooling off my temper makes the apology sound forced.
Dusk shimmers near the edges of the windows in the library, the horizon a reminder of another day wasted. The sign curls again in my head and stirs my magic to a boiling point in my core.
Realization dawns, and I flick my gaze to Marian, already hurrying to my side. “Vi, I think it’s—”
“I know,” I grind out, hating the lack of preparation on my end for another shift.
“What? What is it?” Christine asks, standing from the seating area she shared with Marcel to approach.
I lift a hand. “Don’t!” I sneer, not wanting anyone to be concerned, let alone see me in this state.
Everyone eyes me warily as Marian wraps an arm around my elbow, my heart speeding up for the impending transition. Panic surges up my throat as I realize I did not come up with a single tonic or medicine to try.
Sweet Makers, this is going to fucking hurt.
Fear crawls out my throat, heavy in my words, as I lean into Marian. “I-I didn’t make anything.”
She swallows. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” Beau asks, his smooth voice laced with worry and compassion.
