“The plan is excellent,” said Graely. “Darielle can remain here in Laegenshire and beckon us back if Kaevin somehow returns with Alora on his own.”
“You are still assuming he will recover from his sickness and the ill-timed transport,” said Laethan.
“He will recover. He is not dead and he will not die. He simply cannot die.” Graely’s voice cracked. “For I do not believe I could bear it.”
The other council members exchanged wary glances, but no one spoke in rebuttal.
*****
“You wouldn’t let go of his hand,?
?? said Beth. “It was like there was glue between your fingers. Wesley finally got the idea we could roll both of you onto a blanket and drag you inside.” She looked pointedly at Alora’s hand. “You could let go now,” she suggested. “He seems to be breathing.”
Alora lay on the floor in front of the fireplace, next to Kaevin, who was still unconscious. She noticed for the first time her hand was gripping his so tightly her knuckles were white. And her headache was gone. She relaxed her grip, but left their hands intertwined.
“Or I guess you could just keep holding his hand.” Beth’s eyes roamed the ceiling. “If you let go, is he going to disappear like he appeared in the first place?”
Alora blinked at Beth. “I don’t know. I’m kind of afraid to find out.”
“Ahem.” Wesley cleared his throat. “Hi. How are you feeling?”
Alora felt the blood rush into her cheeks. She’d almost forgotten he was in the room. “Thank you for saving me. You’re my hero. If you hadn’t carried me out there, I’d never have made it in time.”
Wesley’s face turned beet red, and he muttered something about “no big deal.”
“In time for what?” Beth asked, her forehead creasing. “What’s going on here? This guy’s had his eyes closed since he got here, but I’m betting they’re green. Right? I see he’s tall and has long brown wavy hair.” She put her hands on her hips. “So what did you do? Dream up some guy and then conjure him out of thin air? Are you a witch or something?”
“No,” croaked a faint voice. “She’s a bearer.”
“Kaevin!” cried Alora. “Are you okay? I was so afraid when I saw you last night. I could tell you were sick, and you couldn’t even hold your eyes open.”
“I’m pretty sure I was dying,” he rasped. “My head certainly felt like it was going to split open.”
“Mine, too—but it’s gone now. I think it was a migraine.”
“What’s a migraine?” he asked.
“Forget that!” Beth waved her hand in irritation. “How about, what’s a bearer? And who are you? And how did you get here?”
“I’m so weak. I think I may have been unconscious for a long time.” Kaevin struggled to sit, still keeping his hand clasped tightly around Alora’s.
“I’ll get you some water.” Wesley dashed off to the kitchen, returning with two glasses of water, passing one to each. Kaevin frowned, examining the glass in his hand.
“What is this?”
“It’s water,” said Beth. “What do you think? That we’re trying to poison you?”
“No, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’ve simply never seen a clear cup before. What kind of firing process do you use?”
“I don’t know,” said Wesley. “We’ve always just bought them from the store. I’ve never thought about how they’re made.”
“What’s a store?” asked Kaevin.
“Where did you come from?” asked Beth. “I thought we were pretty remote in Montana, but if you’ve never even been to a store...”
“Montana? Is that the name of this shire? Or is Montana the territory, with different shires in Montana?”
“Uhmm, Montana is a state in the USA. What country are you from?”