Venom (Book I) ✓

Chapter Twenty-One

"How is he doing?"

Appa sighed heavily into the fire before turning to meet the inquisitive and watery gaze of the woman who had been lingering around his house like a plague. She stood in the doorway clutching a lace handkerchief to her chest, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

"Much like he was doing the last time you were here, which I will remind you was scarcely an hour ago." He answered patiently.

The woman's face pinched and she let out a wail. "Oh, why is this happening to us?" She keened, sagging in the doorway, "Let me see him sir, please, just let me see him."

Appa sighed and shook his head, "Ma'am, you know I can't let you do that. The boy is sleeping."

"He is always sleeping. Let me see my son Appa, just for a moment." She pleaded, stumbling forward into his house.

"He's sleeping." He repeated firmly. "Do you want him to survive this or not?"

She let out a dramatic sob and crumpled to the floor. "It's all I want. Sir, keep him alive."

"I am working on it." Appa answered, irritation tainting his words for the first time. "Of course it would be significantly easier if you weren't always here disturbing him." and me.

"Tell me how to help. I'll do anything."

"Go home. I have it under control here, you have another child to care for. Where is she now?"

The woman looked up wide-eyed. "Mourning like the rest of us. It may look different, but there is a sadness in her eyes as she reads her life away now."

"THE BOY'S NOT DEAD YET." Appa roared, startling the woman to her feet. "Go home and clean yourself up and for God's sake woman, put on something other than black."

She squeaked in fright and scampered to the door, leaving Appa to seethe. The whole village had been just a little bit off since the attack. It was beginning to grate on his nerves. Their trust in Ruby was such that even he found himself wondering at times what was taking the child so long. Still, he knew that she was on her way, she would be back, just as she had promised.

With a sigh he turned back to the boiling pot over the fire and ladled a portion into a bowl. He carried the steaming meal carefully to the room Edward was occupying. When he entered the boy was sitting up and looked remarkably lucid. Appa sighed in relief, the boy had been in and out of consciousness and had been experiencing recurring bouts of complete insanity. More than once Appa had been forced to tie Edward's wrists down to keep him from injuring himself.

"Good to see you up." Appa said gently. He knew that the boy did not remember any of his outbursts. It was a symptom that he had never seen before.

"What day is it?" Edward asked, turning expectantly to the older man.

This was also a good sign. When he was in his right mind he always asked this first. He did not care to know that it was Tuesday or the second of the month. He was asking how many days he had survived.

"Eight." Appa responded readily, offering up the steaming bowl.

"Don't you ever eat anything solid?" Edward muttered, accepting the bowl with a scowl.

"You're sick. Soup is good for healing."

"I don't think a bowl of soup going to fix me." Edward retorted, but he downed the meal obediently.

"I can't hunt boy, you should know that." Appa answered.

"It's not so hard really."

"My bones are too old."

"You're playing at being much more frail than you really are."

"You still haven't gotten it through your head that you know nothing of me." Appa stated, his demeanor still cool and unconcerned.

"What is there to know?"

Suddenly Appa got the sense that he was not doing the world so much good at all as long as he was keeping the whiny boy in his bed alive. However, rather than make this thought known he sat in the chair behind the bed and sighed. "Your mother was here again."

Edward's eyes widened. "Did you send her away?"

"Of course. You do know, don't you, that you'll have to face her sometime?"

"You've seen how she is! Can you really blame me for wanting to die in peace?"

"No, but I do think you'll be doing your sister a great disservice."

Edward's face hardened and he turned away. "I can't help her. Nobody can."

"You could."

"How?"

"She's not ill, just young and energetic. Of course she can't sit through lessons, she's a child. She's curious. Take her into the woods. Share your adventures with her. They'll do her much more good than those books she's always so invested in."

"It's too late now. I don't have much longer to live."

"You won't die this time. Not now. Ruby's on her way."

"Even if she was...She can't possibly make it far. Coming out is much harder than just waltzing in."

"Don't act like I don't know that. But she can do it. I know she can. In fact, I'm sure she'll be running through that door at any minute brandishing her knife and the head of your beast. Surely by now she's become quite the hunter out there. Don't you think?"

Edward didn't respond, but Appa hadn't expected him to really. After all, what did this coward know of heroes and hunters? As far as he could tell, not even what it took to trust in one.