ISLAND ILLUSIONS (#2 PARADISE ISLAND duology)

--sixteen--

Miles knelt down immediately, to move bunches of thick, icy blonde hair from Kera's face. If she was Kera—Miles couldn't be positive, because she was nearly unrecognizable.

But it had been her voice, a slither of what she usually sounded like. And in truth, who else could have crawled up to them and issued such a dire warning to not drink the water?

Only someone who knows the truth, and who knows us.

Sure enough, he deciphered more of Kera's facial features once he swept her hair aside. Her dark skin was cakey, kind of flaking off in places, as if she'd gotten a bad sunburn and was peeling to heal. But she didn't look like she was healing; she looked like she was dying. The mouth he'd kissed was dry, crackling, and everything about her made her seem like she was withering away.

"Vick," hissed Miles, grateful that Vick had snapped out of his trance. "Help me."

Stunned at the shriveled piece of human Miles had huddled in front of, Vick sauntered over, magically free from the water's spell. "Is that...?"

"Help me," insisted Miles, pointing at a corner of the cave, far from the sparkling waters that had called their names. "Let's get her over there so I can take a better look at her."

Together, they heaved a frail Kera over to the corner, with no protest from Kera herself. Miles propped her up against the rocky wall. The prismatic crystals overhead reflected all over her, allowing Miles a better view of her ailments.

And there were quite a few.

Though her skin was peeling off, it wasn't enough to expose her bones, which Miles silently thanked the universe for. He knew a little about medical stuff, thanks to his parents' research, but he was by no means a trained doctor, and would only be able to do so much for Kera if she was actually in danger of dying.

She wore the same clothes as the day he'd left her, only they were torn and shredded in places, leaving her to appear like she'd been through a garbage disposal and somehow survived. Her top barely covered her chest, but revealed how skinny she'd become in the past few days. He could see her ribs protruding and looking sharp enough to pierce through her skin. She was scraped, bruised, bleeding, and dehydrated.

Miles turned to Vick, who'd crouched beside him, squinting at Kera with obvious disgust. And that was when Miles noticed that Vick was wearing a backpack.

"Hey," Miles pointed at the straps over Vick's shoulders, "do you have any water in there, by chance?"

Vick scrunched his nose. "I do, but won't we be needing it?"

Miles held out his hand. "She needs it more."

"But she's already—"

"—she needs it more, and no, she's not dying. Not yet." Miles glimpsed her, watching as she struggled to let out a few shallow breaths, her eyes sealed shut. "Not if I can help it."

Groaning, Vick removed his backpack and extracted a medium-sized bottle of water, reluctantly handing it to Miles. "Hopefully she leaves us some," he mumbled under his breath.

Miles cursed Vick for being such a selfish prick; but then again, he'd actually brought the water. He'd come prepared. Miles hadn't.

Miles unscrewed the bottle and brought its rim to Kera's lips—chapped and stuck together. "Hey, open up," he said, gently taking hold of her lips to pry them apart. "This is water, regular water, it should help."

Kera was slow to catch on to what was happening, at first, but when she realized she was being given water, she drank. She drained three quarters of the bottle, slowly, swallowing with evident difficulty. There were deep gashes on her throat, most of which hadn't healed and had dried blood caking along her skin. Vick recoiled, but Miles gritted his teeth and tried to detach himself; to become a scientist studying a specimen he'd never seen before.