The Witch of Webs: Book 12 (The Wandering Inn), page 3
“My authority here. If you—”
“Complexion’s poor…what should I write…?”
“…asking about you, Durene.”
“Further south? Dead gods, what is Tyrion—”
“…here. Continue your conversation—”
“Not getting better? Maybe if…”
“…Another healing…you mad?”
“—No! Drop…and she will die. You…down now and leave my—!”
And then at last, a voice broke through the fevered mists.
“Durene. Laken’s doing well. He’s coming back as fast as he can.”
“Laken?”
Durene opened her eyes. She heard an exclamation. Wiskeria was looking over her. Durene blinked. The [Witch] bent hurriedly.
“How do you feel? Durene?”
“I’m okay. I just had a—nap. I’m hot.”
There was a strange look on the [Witch]’s face.
“You’ve had a fever.”
“Oh. Good I didn’t have a potion. That makes it worse.”
“Yes…you should rest. Laken will want to hear you’re awake. Healer Pirose? Hold on, Durene. Let me just call her.”
Durene put her head back. She shook it gently. Her chest hurt, and it was hot. Not as bad as the night, but her lips were parched.
“I don’t need a healer. Just a nap. I’ll get up tomorrow. Can I have some water?”
“Of course.”
Wiskeria grabbed a pitcher from the bed and offered Durene a cup. The girl drank thirstily and laid back.
“I’ll be fine. Tomorrow…I heal fast.”
“I know.”
Durene closed her eyes. The world swam. She licked her lips and raised her head.
“Can I have another cup of water?”
But Wiskeria was gone, so Durene lay back again. She was hot, then cold. The world swam, and the fever and the pain in her chest began to ebb. Too slowly. She licked her lips, wishing Wiskeria would return. She was a bit too—too weak to grab the pitcher herself. Which was rare. Durene murmured into the air as the night returned.
“Thirsty.”
Day 3 – Durene
The rain woke her up. Durene licked her cracked lips. She heard it pattering overhead. On a roof of some kind. Not hers; she knew the sound the rain made when it hit her thatch. This was different.
Slowly, Durene opened her eyes. She was hot all over. And…weak. The fever hadn’t broken yet. But she was oh so very thirsty. And someone had put a bandage on her chest. Durene frowned at it. She couldn’t ever remember having a cut that needed anything like that.
Normally, even the worst cuts she’d had closed in a few days. And were they tending to her with a [Healer]? She vaguely recalled Wiskeria saying that. That was…nonsense. All Durene needed was some broth, some time, and she’d be right as rain. The worst of the fever was over.
The patter of rain distracted Durene. She sat up unsteadily. The world swam, but she was very, very parched.
“Thirsty.”
She didn’t remember getting out of bed, but she did feel each step in the unfamiliar…room? Yes, it was a room. And here was a door. Durene pushed it open. The rain. She just had to find—
The room past her bedroom looked foreign. New. One of the houses in Riverfarm? Someone had set up a lot of strange equipment here. Clean linens, needles, glowing potions—even scissors and a thin saw for some reason. Strange. Durene stared at it all and then saw the door. It was so close.
Step. Step. Durene chanted to herself, grabbing at a passing chair for support. It groaned under her weight.
“Door. Thirsty. Step. Door—”
And there it was. Durene leaned on the handle, and it opened. She saw the rain coming down in sheets. The landscape was dark, and a bolt of lightning arced down in the distance. It threw the world into relief. Durene saw a row of houses opposite her. A familiar mountain in the distance. Yet the houses were foreign. But the rain was familiar, and when she stepped into it—
Durene sighed. It cooled her skin, soaked the bandage on her chest and her light clothing. She opened her mouth, letting the rain fall into it. How long she stood there, gulping down rain, she couldn’t have said. But then Durene heard a scream.
“Monster!”
Someone shouted it from afar. Durene’s eyes opened with a snap. She looked around. A monster? Instinctively, she looked for the long greatclub she’d been using. But it was gone. Durene’s hands curled into fists. They would do. She stepped forwards—
And saw a girl pointing at her down the street. The child was standing in the door of a house down the street, light at her back. Pointing at Durene. Slowly, Durene stopped. She saw someone rush to grab the girl, a man, and more doors flicker open. The call of ‘monster’ was taken up for a second by another voice, and then someone roared.
“Durene!”
Swaying, the half-Troll girl turned. Prost ran towards her, ignoring the rain that soaked his clothing. He grabbed at her as she leaned on the doorframe.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m thirsty.”
He stared at her. Durene blinked at him. Her chest felt worse than before. The dull pain was back, and the water wasn’t helping. He looked around.
“Get the [Healer]. And shut up whoever’s shouting that. You five, help me bring her inside.”
“I can walk.”
Weakly, Durene protested. Prost looked at her. Durene shook her head.
“I don’t need to be a bother, Mister Prost. I can walk back to my bed.”
“You’re sure?”
Durene smiled. The concern in Prost’s voice reminded her of…a long time ago.
“Yeah. I’ll just—”
She took a step and let go of the doorframe. The world spun.
Day 4 – Durene
The next time Durene woke up, it was in her bed. Her bed…no normal bed could fit her. Wrong house.
She stared up at the ceiling and realized the rain had stopped. This time, she felt much, much more awake. And finally, there was someone in the room. A woman with her back to Durene, dressed in green and yellow clothing, was mixing something in a bowl behind Durene. The girl blinked at the unfamiliar back and sat up.
“Um. Hello?”
The woman whirled about, jumping in shock. She had a stern face. Her eyes widened as Durene swung herself out of bed.
“You’re awake.”
“Yup. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
Durene didn’t know how they’d gotten her back into bed. But she felt better after another sleep. Not as thirsty. And much cooler. She got to her feet. The woman’s eyes widened.
“You shouldn’t be able to get up! We haven’t been able to treat your wound with healing potions, not since it was infected—lie back down!”
“I’m fine. It doesn’t feel bad. I don’t want to be a bother.”
Durene muttered as she looked around the room. She shook her head; her legs felt wobbly, but she felt sure she could make it back to her cottage at least. She walked around the bed, and the woman blocked her.
“Absolutely not. You’re finally getting better, but you’re far too weak.”
“I can walk. Really.”
Durene sat on the bed because the only other option was to pick the woman and put her to one side, and that was fairly rude. The woman—was she the [Healer]?—pursed her lips.
“You can talk and walk. That’s impressive, I’ll grant you. I wouldn’t expect even a Gold-rank adventurer to do that so soon.”
“It was just a fever.”
The half-Troll girl smiled uncertainly. The [Healer]’s brows shot up. Durene anxiously looked down at her chest. But the bandage on her chest had disappeared, and the red gash on her front was only a tiny bit enflamed. The [Healer] noticed the look and nodded.
“You’re pulling together faster than you have any right to. Conscious and able to get up?”
“I can walk if you want me to.”
Durene informed the woman calmly, a bit nettled by the strict tone. Maybe the [Healer] was used to patients other than [Farmers]. She was fine. Three days out of commission was bad enough. The [Healer] just shook her head.
“Lie back down.”
“But I—”
“No arguments. If you can get up tomorrow, I may let you move about. Your injury closed in two day’s span from what it was. That’s healing power. And if that’s so…one day of rest.”
“A day? In bed?”
The thought horrified Durene. She moved to get up again, but the [Healer] placed a hand on her shoulder.
“[Healer]’s orders. I insist.”
“I understand, Miss. But I can’t just sit here and—”
“[Order of the Samaritan]. Lie down.”
The woman’s eyes flashed. Durene found herself laying back and pulling the sheets over herself before she knew what she was doing. She blinked up at the woman. The [Healer] sighed.
“You used a Skill on me?”
“I’ll use more if I have to. I don’t intend to lose you, not after a battle that hard-fought.”
That seemed like a poor reason. Especially because Durene had lost that battle. So had the army. The half-Troll girl closed her eyes for a moment, remembering. That was why the woman was here.
“Fine. I’ll stay in bed. Don’t worry about me. You’re tending to the others, right?”
“Others?”
The woman looked blank as she reached for her poultice or whatever was in the bowl. Durene’s head rose a bit, and she frowned.
“The others from the battle. How’re they doing?”
The [Healer] had a very odd look on her face as she turned.
“Them? They’re fine. I’ve seen to them already.”
“Oh. Well, don’t let me keep you. I’m right as rain. Sorry I walked out yesterday.”
“Of course.”
Another frown. The woman felt at Durene’s brow. Then she shook her head.
“Your fever’s broken. Tomorrow, if you’re well, we’ll let you stand up. Please don’t get up. I’m tired of having to chase you down.”
“You’ve done it before?”
“Six times already. You don’t remember? You keep looking for your cottage. Or this [Emperor] of yours.”
The woman smiled drily. Durene blushed. She lay in bed as the woman checked her scar and then dabbed something cool from the bowl over it.
“I’m sorry. But I’m awake now.”
“Yes. You are. And since you’re still awake, I suppose you could do with some food.”
Durene considered that.
“I am hungry. Do I have to stay in bed for that too?”
“Yes. Although you may sit up.”
So saying, the [Healer] left the room. Durene sighed and sat up. After an interminable amount of time where Durene just stared vacantly at the weird mixtures and the mortar and pestle on the table across from the bed, she heard the footsteps and saw the [Healer] come into the room with a large bowl.
“A stew. Let’s see you keep this down.”
“That’s not much. I could eat three bowls. I’m ravenous.”
The woman blinked at Durene. The girl blushed. She ate a lot, but it wasn’t as if she gained weight—well, not fat. The [Healer] shook her head.
“No matter how you feel—here. Do you need a hand?”
Durene shook her head. She took the spoon, lifted the bowl up, and began to eat. There were bits of meat floating in the lentil stew. It was hot, good—she barely tasted it. The stew would have burned Laken’s tongue, but Durene had finished the bowl in under a minute. The [Healer] looked shocked. Durene smiled a touch smugly.
“Told you.”
“Can you keep it down?”
“Of course!”
The woman folded her arms.
“Give it fifteen minutes.”
“Can I stand up while I wait?”
“No.”
“Then can I do something? I’m bored.”
The woman considered this.
“Wait.”
She left the room and came back quicker this time. Silently, she handed Durene a book. The [Farmer] turned [Paladin] blinked at it.
“What’s this?”
“A book. If you need to entertain yourself, use this.”
Durene hesitantly stroked the cover. The book was bound expertly, and it wasn’t nearly as worn as the trio of books she’d seen on Miss Yesel’s shelf. She opened it and saw a lot of neat words arranged on the page. They blended together seamlessly on crisp paper. Durene’s eyes widened.
“This must be expensive!”
“Mildly. You may borrow it. I’ll take your bowl.”
The [Healer] did just that. She left the room and came back to see Durene paging through the book restlessly. The girl closed it, embarrassed, and the [Healer] frowned.
“Not to your taste?”
“No…but it’s just that it’s a lot of words. And I can’t—er—”
“Ah.”
The woman looked at Durene’s blush, then the book. She instantly understood what Durene was saying. Durene hung her head in shame. She couldn’t read it. She knew her basic letters and numbers, but a book wasn’t something she’d ever owned. She didn’t know if anyone in Riverfarm—the old Riverfarm—could read that well either. Mister Prost could, and a few others, but reading wasn’t a necessary skill. The [Healer] briskly took the book back from Durene.
“That’s fine. I suppose there’s no help for it. If you wish, I will read to you. Otherwise, I can ask and see if there’s something you can do with your hands. Knitting? Carving?”
“I wouldn’t mind knowing what the book was about. If it’s no bother, Miss.”
Durene blushed again. She had to admit she dearly wanted to know what the lovely tome contained. The front was a title—she could make out a few words, but the fancy calligraphy and the plain, pale-purple binding didn’t tell her much. The [Healer] nodded.
“Very well. It is something of a good story. I’m rather taken with it myself. This is a chronicle of an adventurer’s life. Not an adventurer, but…the tales of Thivian Stormless, the famous hero known as the Lightning Thief. Do you know of him?”
Wide-eyed, Durene nodded. That was an old name. An adventurer who’d passed away not too long ago. One of the names everyone knew, of course. He’d died when she was…eight?
“He has a book? I remember hearing about him dying. They said he died at sea, fighting a horde of sea serpents. And they said he could still steal lightning as it fell from the sky. Even Archmage Amerys’ lightning! Is that true?”
The [Healer] smiled.
“I think he died in his bed. But I do recall him as well, and I even had the privilege of seeing him at a banquet once. He was a talented [Thief]; he stole any number of hearts even in his late years.”
“You saw him? Really?”
The [Healer] coughed, a blush rising to her cheeks.
“It was what prompted me to get the book. I will read it if you’d like.”
“Please. But—can I have another bowl of soup?”
On cue, Durene’s stomach rumbled. The [Healer] blinked.
“You’re hungry still?”
Durene’s eyes darted to the bowl. It wasn’t a bowl meant for a single serving; you could fit half a pot in it. It was probably meant to hold salad, not soup. Durene was embarrassed, but nodded.
“I’m sure I can keep it down.”
“Well…let me get another bowl. I’ll read to you, and if you’re still hungry…”
The [Healer] took the bowl and left. Durene sighed and sat in her bed. She felt at her chest; her skin was still tender. The injury really had been bad; normally, her skin could shrug off even her kitchen knife when it slipped. That Hobgoblin with the axe…Durene closed her eyes. Then the door opened.
This time, the [Healer] was back with a bowl of soup and half of a rounded loaf of crusted bread. Durene’s stomach rumbled loudly, and she reached out. The [Healer] blinked as Durene tore into the bread. She kept the bowl and watched as Durene ate the loaf down.
“Eat slower. You’ll give your stomach a cramp.”
“I always eat like this. And I’m hungry.”
Durene complained. She reached out, and after a moment’s hesitation, the woman handed her the bowl. The soup went down slower this time, but still quick. Durene tasted it and savored the bites; the bowl was gone in a few minutes. The [Healer]’s eyes widened as Durene handed her the bowl back.
“You weren’t exaggerating, were you?”
“I said I was hungry. I could do a third bowl. Probably.”
The woman opened her mouth. Then she just shook her head.
“You’ll wait an hour this time. But if you’re still hungry then, I’ll get you more. Dead gods. Have I been underfeeding you this entire time?”
“Everyone thinks I eat less than I do. It’s fine.”
Durene sighed. She sat back, and the [Healer] sat across from her. The woman eyed her, then opened the book she carried.
“Well, you’re certainly the most lucid I’ve seen you. Incredible, really. Your fever broke yesterday, and you’re already able to stand.”
“That’s normal.”
“Not for someone who’s gone through what you have.”
Durene supposed that was true. An axe blow to the chest would put down most people, healing potion or not. She shrugged.
“I could really walk around. Honest.”
The woman pursed her lips.
“Tomorrow. As I said. You’re not to leave this bed except to use the bathroom.”
“Fine. But what will I do?”
“Listen. I’m going to read this book to you, unless you object?”
The woman’s brows raised. Durene yelped.
“What, for the rest of the day? Until I go to sleep?”
“That’s part of my job. And it’s why I’m here. I want to see how long you can stay up.”
“I can stay up all day, thanks. You’ll read that entire book and then some.”
The half-Troll girl folded her arms. The [Healer] just shook her head.
“That remains to be seen. Now, sit there until your stomach’s digested that food. Don’t lay back or it may come up.”
She opened the book. Durene settled against the headboard comfortably. She felt odd and couldn’t place why. Then she realized that not once had the [Healer] looked askance at her skin. And she looked completely normal around Durene. Well, she had been tending to her for three days. The [Healer] opened the book, licking one finger as she flicked to the first page.
