In the hours that passed, Mara paced restlessly from one end of the room to another. She behaved as though she didn't want to let Sean out of her sight. She twisted her fingers as she waited for him to wake up. In fact she was twisting them so much the joints in her hands started feeling numb.
She tried to do everything she could think of to revive him. Nothing worked. Until the last moment before her resources were exhausted, she reversed some of her methods. Still, zero. Eventually the contents of her kit were depleted. What worried her more than anything was the increasing pallor of his skin...as though all his blood was slowly, deliberately being sucked out of him.
Please.
Crouching down next to his pallet, she pressed her fingers on his wrist. At least his pulse was steady. So was his breathing. It was just that he was so pale. Before, his cheeks were flushed from being outside in the sun. Now he was an unhealthy shade of pale bluish-gray.
He looks like he's dead.
No, don't think that.
Well, look at him. Does that look like the visage of a living man to you?
There's something—
No. It's too dangerous.
What are you going to do then? Wait for his pulse to stop? Wait until he stops breathing? Then that will be another life on your hands.
Initially, she had thought that Sean fainted because of the flower he put under his nose. The pollen of the ertus blooms is very potent. She wondered if he was dreaming. Maybe, but the effects that she was seeing in him were a first time occurrence. Severe deliria and unprecedented violence were the usual suspects upon exposure. None of that was happening right now.
Well, there's a first time for everything.
She checked his pulse again. Still steady. This time, however, he grabbed her wrist and held on tight. The rest of him was still lying stock-still; it was only his arm that was flailing about as Mara struggled to free herself from his sudden grip. His brow furrowed as he uttered a single word. "No."
"Sean, let go of me," Mara said. She tried to pry his fingers off her wrist but that only made him tighten his grasp. "Sean!"
"You did this," he snarled. His voice sounded different, gruff...and there was anger in his tone. As though to emphasize that anger, his hand tightened further around Mara's arm. It was beginning to hurt. "I'm not going to let you live."
A thousand needles were beginning to prick her hand in quick, persistent intervals. On the upside, though, this interaction seemed to bring his skin back to a healthier shade. His cheeks were starting to flush bright red.
He's dreaming, she thought. She made a mental note to ask him about it later.
"Sean, I'm getting a very nasty feeling in my hand. I'd love to be able to keep using it after this so could you let me go? Please?"
Her little jibe didn't do anything. Her fingers were starting to get numb.
"Ok. Well, I was going to say, don't make me hurt you. But clearly you're asking for it." She was about to reposition herself when she felt Sean's hand twist at an odd angle. Then she heard the sound of something snapping like a twig.
