Emille

Chapter 15

"Peter. Wake up. Peter, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake up. Your three day nap is over."

"Leave him alone."

"If I don't get to fall into a short coma, neither does he."

"You put him in the small coma."

"I saved his life, witchling. The slight overdose of sleeping draught was a minor oopsie."

"A three day oopsie."

Good lord. Peter would reanimate his aching sack of bones if only to shut them up.

"Good morning."

A surprised yelp came from the two girls as Peter opened his eyes and greeted them. He winced as light seared into his eyes.

"Three days, you said? What did I miss?"

Natalia didn't need any more of an invitation. "What didn't you miss? Emille's been avoiding us like the plague because you scared the crap out of her, I'm still fighting off a banger of a healer hangover, the journal's been hopping around the room, we have no way to reach Arthur thanks to your little adventure, and you've wet the bed at least eight times. Oh, and Emille has a tether now. It's the same charming little roach that tried to chow down on you."

"Not a roach," Isa corrected. "Also definitely not little."

"Fine, a mutant roach."

"I think it's cute."

"You didn't have to draw its nasty venom out of wonder boy's arm."

Peter finally managed to get a word in. "Pardon?"

Natalia and Isa turned their attention to him once again, as if remembering the person they'd been here to see in the first place.

"You're going to have to get a little more specific than pardon," Natalia said.

Peter sorted through all of the information that had just been hurled at him. The bedwetting he'd never speak of again. He didn't feel wet, which meant that someone had cleaned him. How had he even peed? Where was the water coming from? He looked down at the mint green sheets, and cringed. This was Isa's bed. He'd peed all over Isa's bed. Did Isa...?

"Who took care of me?"

"Me," Natalia replied, much to Peter's relief. His fragile mind couldn't handle the thought of Isa changing his soiled clothes. "You woke up enough to drink water, but not enough to open your eyes or eat food."

With the mention of food, Peter's stomach caved in on itself. Three days. Even for a constant meal skipper, that was a long time.

"Here," Isa said, handing him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Peter gulped it down gratefully. As he chewed, he felt his thoughts start to assemble themselves.

"Don't go crazy, or you'll puke," Natalia warned. Peter's stomach twisted in agreement. He set down the sandwich, all appetite lost. He didn't need a vomiting incident to further his humiliation.

"The journal has been jumping through space?" Peter asked, sipping cautiously from his cup of water. Natalia nodded. "That's not good," he mused. "That means it's starting to feel the lake's pull."

"We know," Isa said. "We've been working on some ideas to slow it down until we have a better plan."

"What ideas?"

"No," Natalia interrupted. "First you have to explain your little stunt. Why did you use Emille as bait? You've fought kimpies before, and you never mentioned live bait."