Howl's Twisted Castle

25: Liquid Courage

Hamish got to his feet with the grace of a man half his size and lifted Howl off me with little effort, allowing me a second to catch my breath. As I let Hamish prop Howl back up in his chair, I reached up and held his red cheeks in my hands. 

"Howl? Howl can you hear me?" my voice shook nearly as badly as my hands did, but he gave no response. Howls head lolled forward, eyes shut. His cheeks felt dreadfully warm, and as I touched his forehead with the back of my hand, I could feel the sweat beading off his fevered skin. 

Maggie appeared by my side, the laundry basket she had hitched on her hip tossed to the wayside. She covered Howls forehead with her palm and clicked her tongue, cursing colourfully under her breath.

"He's got a fever," she sighed. Using her thumbs, she opened his eyelids and scrutinized them. "Was he like this before?"

I stared at her blankly. Did Howl seem unwell yesterday? I wouldn't have thought so, not the way he acted last night anyway. He looked normal-- happy even, but certainly not ill. My eyes drifted to his right arm, a thought forming.

"He's been favouring that arm for the last few days," I admitted, "but I haven't a clue what happened."

Maggie shot a quick look at Hamish ushering him over to prop Howl up while she removed his jacket. The arm of his white shirt was completely stained with a brownish tinge, and I knew by the collective look on Maggie and Hamish's faces, it wasn't a good sign. 

"Hamish, I'm gonna need ye ta carry the young man upstairs and set him up in one of the empty rooms," Maggie said quickly, fussing over her apron.

Spotting the young boy who had been helping Hamish earlier, Maggie waved him over. She unpinned her brooch and twisted it until it changed into a different shape, almost like a key of some sort.  Pressing it into the boy's hand, she barked out more orders. 

"Colin, go out to the storeroom behind the inn and get some of the old linens and a bucket of hot water. Meet us upstairs once ye've got the lot."

"Yes ma'am," he replied. Clutching the brooch in his hand, Colin saluted smartly and dashed out the front door. 

"Old linens?" I asked, bewildered. "Why would he need those? He's hot, not cold." 

"My dear," Maggie gave me a grave look, "with a wound that size, he'll need fresh bandages."

My heart hammered in my ears, drowning out her voice. He was injured that badly? Why had he never said anything?

I looked up to see Maggie retrieve a bottle of spirits from behind the bar. She reached the staircase and beckoned me to follow, but my nerves got the best of me. My legs had turned into lead weights that wouldn't budge, and I had a faint buzzing sound in my ears that was beginning to make me feel queasy. Maggie's warm hand on my back guided me to a chair to sit,  offering me a comforting smile. 

"I know how you feel lass. It's not easy seeing someone that you care about hurt, but let's focus on one person at a time aye? I can't be taking care of the both of ye at once," Maggie cast me a stern, if not motherly look of concern.

"You're right," I breathed deeply. "It's just-- I'm not sure what to do in this situation."

She pulled the cork off the bottle with her teeth and thrust it into my hands. "I usually am and don't you worry, we'll be takin' care o' that arm in a jiffy. Here, have a swig of that and ye'll be right as rain."

I took a whiff of the bottle and felt it burn the back of my throat. I cast Maggie a wary glance, pinched my nose and pressed the bottle to my mouth. It burned as bad as I expected. I gagged and coughed the mouthful down, thrusting the offending bottle in Maggie's awaiting hands.