Page 76 of Hungry Like a Wolf
“Your throat is still dry?”
Again, she nodded and took the drink from him. This time, she took several big gulps.
“That’s good,” he said. “Are you feeling a little better?”
“My throat,” she said in a croaky voice as she circled her neck with her palm.
“Let me see.” Quickly, he lit a candle and held it by her face. “Open up.”
She did as he’d asked.
“Oh, that’s not good.” He shook his head. “You look like you’ve had a swarm of bees in there. It’s red and swollen and dotted with yellow stings.”
“It happened once before,” she said. “Like this.” She took another drink.
“It did?” And she’d lived to tell the tale. Relief flooded him. It was a welcome change from the fear he’d been carrying around all day like a huge sack of sand on his shoulders.
“Aye, it came from nowhere. My mother nursed me.”
“What did she give you?”
“Water with a wee bit of salt to wash my throat out and spit, and then hot water with honey to drink.”
“I can do that.” He gripped her hand. “And do you think that will heal you?” He could hardly say the next words. “Stop you from dying?”
She smiled weakly and touched his cheek. “I will not die. The fever has broken. It is just my throat that needs to heal—and it will.”
“You scared me so.” He kissed the center of her palm. “It came on so sudden. I thought… I thought…”
“Please.” Her eyes were soft. “If you could get what I need.”
“Of course.” He jumped up. “We have honey in our supplies, and I will boil water and get the salt too.”
Ravn raked through the box and found the honey, then hurried outside to put water over the fire. A sense of purpose was a much more welcome friend than fear and helplessness.
Carmel spent the next cycle of the sun sleeping on and off. When she woke, she gargled with saltwater and sipped honeyed water. Ravn hovered over her, quick to get anything she needed, quick to check on her as she slept.
He finished the chair. It was big and wide and he covered it in soft blankets and throws so it would be comfortable for Carmel.
Day barely turned to night once again, but the birds roosted for a few hours and a pink-and-lilac hue claimed the eastern sky. Ravn lay beside his wife and slept on and off, constantly aware of her breathing and dreading the fever returning to her soft, delicate skin.
At one point, he heard what he thought was an elk passing by. The crushing hooves on foliage gave it a way. Again, he thought of Astrid. She had a runestone she called “Algiz” and had said it represented an elk. When he’d once asked what that meant, she’d told him that it was a strong, protective rune that shielded a vulnerable person against evil with its mighty antlers.
And so right now, he was glad of the elk. His wife needed all the protection from evil she could get. Her disease had been swift, dark, and incapacitating. The elk passing by was a good omen, he was sure of that.
A little while later, he rose and bathed in the cool stream. He finally managed to eat some fish and berries, and then he prepared a little porridge for Carmel. That would be soft for herto swallow, and she did need to eat today. She was small enough. He didn’t want her to lose weight.
She was stirring when he went back into the pit house and he kissed her forehead, glad to find it still cool.
“Here.” He passed her water.
She took it, imbibing several mouthfuls before speaking. “Thanks.” Her voice wasn’t as croaky.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better. My throat is still a wee bit sharp, but I’m better than I was. Before, my head was spinning and banging like a drum and I kept thinking there were tiny dragons breathing fire on me, all over.”
“‘Tiny dragons’?”
