THE LIGHT OF A'LEST

CHAPTER 8

     A light... Pain. A light again, more pain. A bench, a chair.

     Light again, more pain. Keko cried out as the world around him slowly took form. A soft voice. A touch. He could feel himself calm down, but he didn't know why. His skin was on fire. Every movement, no matter how small, brought more pain. His sweat mixed with the stagnant stench of the fever and forced him to writhe as it met his nose. He thought he heard himself cry out but could not tell for sure. Rest. The cage. Panic, more light, more pain. He was delirious, of that much he was certain. All else was tenuous. He felt awful. Worse than he had ever felt in his entire life. His mind became an endless circuit of light, pain, and night terrors. The concept of time escaped him, his whole existence fluid and without form.

     Slowly, it subsided.

     He was in a room. It was mostly empty except for the soft light of a single candle that sat on a small wooden bench to his left. The faint glow did little to reveal the contents of the room. The flickering little light seemed to dance and struggle against the dark like some hunted thing. He heard a groan to his right and realized he wasn't alone. It took every bit of strength he had to wiggle and writhe, but eventually, he was able to turn his head and see the two figures lying under white cloth beside him. One seemed to be a woman, or close to it. Her hair was the color of wheat, her slight but supple features clearly visible beneath the white linens strewn about her. She was slim but not unpleasant to the eye. The other form was a boy. He had to squint to see that his chest still rose and fell. His light brown hair was greased with sweat. His skin was pale. Neither of them looked familiar.

     A sudden creak emerged from the doorway, causing him to snap his head in the direction of the sound and simultaneously grip the damp sheets that covered him. The darkness of the room reminded him of the cage, and although his mind saw it for the dream it was, his body seemed to be still coming to terms with that fact. A slender man in a green Tian tunic entered the room and made his way over to him. Above the man's left breast was a small brown serpent eating its tail. The mark of his house. This was one of his father's men. As he saw it, the building tension in his muscles began to relax. The man approached and began examining him. The man's piercing stare was blank, but somehow Keko felt like he could communicate with but a glance. The thin line of the man's mouth moved, and he became aware of muffled sounds. They crested above his thoughts like waves over rocks, but for the life of him Keko could not decipher their meaning. They were far off. Broken sounds that pitched and fell. Without warning his eyes became heavy; they burned and began to sag. As he fought to remain conscious, he took some comfort in the realization that he was alive, and that helped him ignore the fact that his arm felt as if it were submerged in flames.

     Three weeks passed before he was finally discharged from Copper's care. At first, he could do little more than squirm and shuffle, but slowly with aide, he was regaining his strength. Now able to stand and walk around, he hobbled into the main hall of his father's estate. Settling into a green leather chair, he unbandaged his heavily damaged arm. A cruel wafting of foul air met his nose. The hideous webbing wound stank and wept, but Copper assured him that it was healing. He hastily rewrapped the wound as he heard the unmistakable sound of his father's footsteps approach. It was a confident cadence. One you could set a clock to. His whole body tensed as the sound got closer, sending a shot of searing pain up his arm and causing him to swallow a wave of bile as his father's brawny frame emerged from down the corridor.