Voices of Humanity

Chapter Fifty

Though Magnus did all he could for me, my condition quickly deteriorated. I remember tossing and turning in the large bed, unable to find rest in spite of the comfort I was surrounded by. My pillows were drenched in sweat though I shivered constantly both too hot and too cold all a the same time. In my fevered visions I saw all those I had abandoned to death. They screamed in agony, tortured by those who should have tortured me in their stead. I saw Gregory, Dreda, and even little Lina, their faces distorted in pain, all staring at me, accusing me. I could do nothing for them and it was burning me from the inside as surely as the fever.

In my dreams I screamed for mercy, begging for forgiveness, but my mouth was dry. The words would not come. Cold blue eyes descended upon us all, hurling fire from grey-skinned hands. I could feel my flesh roasting.

I knew infection must have taken me. After my incarceration I was just so weak. I'd become mere skin and bones and could feel my ribs and pelvis sticking out strangely from within my haggard frame. The skin on my left leg was on fire, presumably one source of the illness that plagued my body. Though Magnus was by my side more often than not I could barely even register the details of his face as he tried to force me to eat and drink regularly. I knew I needed more than mere soup and bed rest, but refused to agree when he insisted on calling a Doctor.

What might a doctor do for a human so ill? The only medical professionals I'd ever known were harbingers of death and pain. Doctors were the ones to confirm pregnancy, to poke and prod you with needles and weigh children on scales and determine who was worth breeding, who worth culling. Doctors had no interest in helping humans recover from illness.

What if the doctor Magnus hired were to convince him to put me down immediately?

In leaving life so quickly I might never show my gratitude for the care Magnus had already offered me. Worse, selfish as it might have been, now that I had come so close to surviving my ordeal at the hands of the sibla, some part of my rebellious nature was all the more determined to live. I only wished I still had access to my own remedies. That I could find a human, like myself, trained in healing.

I thought of Dreda and how much I wanted her by my side. Of course that brought the inevitable crushing guilt. She had never done anything in her life except help as many as she could. She had suffered a horrific end and it was my fault...

In the end, it was Magnus who finally took action to save my life. I remember the day, though my mind was foggy with fever. He had come up to the room with a tray of soup and a plate of toast but I could not manage more than a few sips of water. I watch the worry knit deeply into his brow.

"Your leg is infected, Alice," he said. "You must know that. And you have a fever. I can't just sit here and watch you die. Please tell me what to do. I don't want to lose you."

The sincerity of his concern was undeniable. I felt tears slip down my face, overwhelmed with his care and still, I was not certain if he would be able to help me.

I'd seen the legions on my leg. They were indeed infected, but not gravely so. I knew of poultices that might draw out the heat and soothe the skin. As for the fever, there was a sibla medication I knew Dreda had begged off of her overseer on more than one occasion to help women who became sick during their pregnancies, the one exception to allowing true doctoring of humans on Dulane's estate. I knew how she' portioned the pills. But would Magnus listen to me? Trust that I might heal myself? More importantly, would he take commands from a human...

"If I were to tell you how to help," I managed, "would you." I stopped. It seemed ludicrous to ask a sibla to obey.

"I will do anything you ask of me," Magnus said, filling my silence. "If you know how I might heal you, give me the chance to try."