Eliona's War 3: Lethal Healer

Ch. 22

Seth bolted up, heart in his throat. Wait no, that actually was bile. He turned, blindly reaching out for something, and found a plastic bowl within reach. He grabbed it just in time, for his stomach immediately threw a tantrum and regurgitated everything from now to last week.

"Bleeegh!"

He curled around the bowl as if it were the only thing keeping him from floating out into space. He wasn't sure why he was sick. Nor was he entirely sure where he was. His mind was too fuzzy and his guts too unhappy.

"Take it easy," soothed a familiar voice. Someone patted his back, before rubbing in large circles. It helped, and some of the fog began to lift.

"Beakor?" he mumbled.

"That's right, kiddo."

He frowned at the mess in the bowl. "Are we at your place?"

"Nope. This hovel is all yours."

"Oh."

Very slowly, the light bulb in his mind began to glow with a weak light. There had been something about Mrs. Beakor staying over to watch him while he was logged in to Eliona. He hadn't been too fond of the idea, but now, considering his condition, he supposed he didn't have any room to argue.

"You all right, kiddo?"

His head felt about a hundred pounds too heavy as he turned it towards her. She had somehow pulled the easy chair from his living room and plopped it beside his bed. It made an already tiny room absolutely cramped.

He blinked slowly. Wait a second...

He didn't own an easy chair.

"Did you-" he paused, wet cracked lips, then continued, "did you haul that chair over from your apartment?!"

A slow, unsettling grin spread across her face.

"Don't worry about it," she patted his knee. That only made him worry about it even more. "You finished with that?"

Seth considered the bowl. He still didn't feel very good, like he'd eaten three turkeys too much, but his stomach seemed to have settled.

"I think so."

"Good. Go clean yourself up."

She took the bowl and left his room.

Seth rubbed at his eyes. When he peered at the clock, he almost fell out of bed. It was nearly eleven o clock, almost a full hour after his alarm was supposed to go off. Had she turned it off?

"Thanks a lot," he grumbled. Now he only had a mere hour to get ready and bike across town to get to the Grubbery in time for his shift.

Still muttering under his breath, he dragged himself out of bed. A shower helped him feel human again, and by the time he went into the living area, he felt mostly okay if he ignored the ever-present weariness and bloated feeling.

Mrs. Beakor already had coffee brewing and was pulling out things from his fridge that definitely weren't there last night. Did she somehow go grocery shopping in the middle of the night, too? Was that before or after she had lugged furniture around?

"Take a seat, kiddo." She jabbed a bony finger at the table. "You're gonna have a proper breakfast today."

Seth grimaced. "Not really hungry."

"Coffee will be ready in a minute." She didn't seem to have heard him.

He flopped into a chair, knowing there was no point arguing. He leaned his head on a palm and watched as she set about making some kind of smoothie. It should have been weird having the weird neighbor lady from downstairs taking over his kitchen, but oddly enough, it wasn't.

Maybe he was just used to her barging in and doing whatever and wherever she pleased.

I never did give her a key to my apartment either, he mused. Though if he had, he wasn't even sure she'd use it. What use was a key to someone who didn't even seem to know locks existed?

"Does that happen often?" she asked.

Now she was spooning globs of plain yogurt into the blender.

I have a blender? Or had that come from her place as well?

He rubbed his eyes. "What?"

"Getting sick like that?"

"Not always," Seth admitted. "I usually feel crappy, but it's not like this."

It was unusual, even if his time in Eliona had been rather busy. There'd been the dungeon runs, the Knight attack and getting thrown into jail, and then hanging out with Agadhi—it had been a full day. Oh, and the weird clan dinner afterwards.

Leave. Leave now! Hurry!

Dark eyes stared at him, a memory so sudden that he froze where he sat. He even forgot to breathe, because everything came rushing back. The knocking. Mouna's hand, warm and calloused, gentle against his face.

He flushed instantly. No, that wasn't what was important to remember. It was the knocking, the impossible arrival of strangers who weren't supposed to know where the Veiled House was. It was the odd greeting, and the even stranger response from Agadhi. And even more concerning was Mouna's-

Head resting against his, awkward and uncomfortable and nice.