Children Of The Sky (The Scripts Of Neptune, Book 2)

Chapter 29

Darcy shouldn't have been up when Harper came for her. She was glad for it, though, and for still being dressed, when a man dressed in dock-worker's clothing followed Harper in with Ely half conscious and leaning heavily against him.

"Found him on the deck of my boat, miss," he said, taking off his hat and rubbing his forehead as Darcy took Ely's arm to help him sit. He didn't seem responsive when she waved a hand in front of his half-closed eyes. There was a dark bruise on his left temple, and the nasty cut above it had bled into his almost-white hair and crusted in the strands. "He was muttering about the Eldins, miss, and said your father's name, so I brought him here. Guards let us through when they saw, so I supposed I was in the right place."

"You were right to bring him here," Darcy said, tilting Ely's head back to get a better look at his eyes. "Harper, would you send for the doctor? He's not looking good."

"Of course." Harper held the door for the dock worker as he left, eyeing Darcy with that focusless gaze. "Darcy, you said you weren't going to--"

"Hush," Darcy whispered sharply. "He needn't hear anything he shouldn't. We'll discuss that later, yeah? The best thing we can do now is get the doctor here."

Harper hesitated for only a moment before disappearing through the door like a wisp. Letting out a long breath, Darcy turned and went to her dresser, taking a handkerchief and dipping it in a glass of water she'd left out.

Ely blinked and came to a little more when she touched the handkerchief to the gash on his head, blinking and meeting her gaze with foggy eyes. He blinked again, brow knitting, and looked around before pushing her hand away and putting a palm to his head. Darcy sat back on her calves and let him sit for a moment, his eyes squeezed closed. He was trembling, ever so slightly, his free hand almost imperceptibly shaking.

"What happened?" he asked, a little slurred. "I remember being at--gods, my head hurts. Can you put out the light?"

Reaching over to turn the lamp down, Darcy tapped his hand away from his forehead and dabbed at the dried blood again. He watched her, gaze detached, the proximity bringing foolish color to her cheeks. "You were at the docks, I hear. Someone found you on the deck of his ship and heard you muttering enough nonsense to figure out you lived here."

Ely blinked at her again, squinting at her through his frosty eyelashes. "I..."

Smiling, she put three fingers to his lips to stop him. "You've likely got a concussion. The doctor's going to have a look at you when he gets here, all right?" Ely tried to nod, then winced and seemed to think better of it. Darcy smiled a little again and took the handerkerchief to his hair, staining the cloth copper-red with his blood. He shut his eyes as she worked, reaching up and touching his bruise carefully, pressing to find its borders.

"Gods, what did I get hit with?" he murmured, face pinching and paling as he leaned his elbows on his knees and carefully rested his cheekbones on his palms, looking at the floor. "I feel like death. Have you got a wastebasket?"

Darcy paused her work to look at him. "Why?"

"I'm going to throw up."

Crossing the room in two strides, Darcy only just managed to put the wastebasket under his chin before he heaved his dinner into it, coughing and shuddering. He took the handkerchief she offered when he'd finished, spitting into the wastebasket and slowly sitting back with his eyes closed. "That isn't good, is it?" he rasped.

"I don't think vomiting is good unless you've swallowed something you shouldn't, no."

Ely opened his eyes just slightly to glare at her. She gave him a winning smile, then reached up to finish cleaning the blood off his face.