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4.) What Must be Done

They didn't have time to process what had happened before people started moving around them. Gendra's father and a few other villagers helped carry Khilan's body back to the cottage, while the others searched the area to make sure the Leech was really gone. It had been left to Gendra to look after Ferren.

"You're still bleeding," she said quietly, as they walked through the grove, following along behind her father. "We should get you cleaned up and treat your wound."

Ferren's right hand lit up blue and she swiped it over her shoulder, smearing the blood but sealing the bite closed with magic.

"I need to prepare to leave, immediately," Ferren said, her eyes focused ahead on the men carrying Khilan's body.

Gendra's head whipped towards her. "What?"

"As soon as we get back, I'm packing provisions for a journey to Jemorae. There's no time to waste."

"What are you talking about, Ferren? Why would you be going to Jemorae?"

Ferren shook her head. "It's too much to explain and not enough time, just know that—"

She faltered for a moment, stumbling.

"Whoa there," Gendra reached out to catch her, helping her back to her feet. But, before Ferren could take another step, her eyelids fluttered and she collapsed into Gendra's arms.

"Ferren? Ferren!"

Gendra struggled under her weight, lowering them both slowly to the ground. Ferren had gone frighteningly pale, as if the blood had suddenly drained from her body. She patted at her face frantically, but it did nothing to stir her. Her skin felt feverish.

"Ferren! Please wake up..." Gendra looked ahead, but her father and the others were already out of sight.

Blast my useless hands... She shook with fear and frustration. If only I had magic like Ferren, maybe I wouldn't be so worthless at helping the people I love.

Ferren's eyes blinked open and she stared up at her through a glassy haze.

"Gendra?" she murmured.

"Oh, thank the Ever Mother, you're alright!" Gendra cried. "Can you stand? Are you hurt anywhere?"

She helped her gently return to her feet, but Ferren's legs were much too weak and wobbly to carry her on their own, and she was forced to use Gendra for support. They slowly made their way back to the cottage. Finally, Gendra set her down on the wood-chopping post.

"What happened?" Gendra asked, kneeling in front of her friend. Ferren's skin was still pallid and her hands shook as she ran them through her black hair.

"I-I don't..." Ferren shook her head, a hand moving to grip at her chest. "I'm not sure, but..."

"What is it?" Gendra asked desperately. "Tell me what's wrong!"

They sat there in silence for a long moment, Ferren rubbing a hand over her chest and Gendra staring at her helplessly. Ferren's eyes wandered back towards the grove, staring past Gendra.

"I tried a spell," she finally said, her voice barely audible. "A protective spell, on Khilan." She choked on her brother's name. "But it didn't work. At least, I thought it hadn't..."

Gendra reached out and gently grabbed Ferren's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "And what if it did?"

Her eyes—clear and pulsing like the rushing stream through the grove—met Gendra's. "It means I'm doomed."

***

A month. Maybe more, maybe less. That's how much time Ferren thought she had left.

"The only one who knows how to help me now is the Ever Mother, herself," she explained as she rushed around her and Khilan's room in the cottage, scooping up various items and tucking them into a canvas pack. Dark, bruise-like circles had formed under her eyes as if she hadn't slept in weeks, though it had only been a day since their encounter with the Leech in the grove.

"What about the burial?" Gendra pleaded with her from the doorway, watching her friend scurry around the room. "Can't you at least stay for your own brother's—"

Ferren raised a hand, silencing her. "As I said before, there's no time to waste."

Gendra couldn't decide if she was more exhausted or annoyed. She groaned and wandered into the room, settling down on the edge of the bed Ferren and Khilan had shared only one night ago.

"At least take my father with you," she said quietly, staring at the extra pillow on the bed. "It's not safe for you to travel so far by yourself. You could get lost, or robbed, or—"

"There's no way I can take your father away from his crop and drag him all the way to Jemorae. I'll be just fine." Ferren turned to the small wooden desk in one corner of the room and pulled open a drawer, producing a stack of yellowed, bundled papers. "My father traveled to almost every corner of Hailiah. He wrote all about it to my mother, and she used to read these letters to us all the time when we were little. He drew maps and pictures for her, too. It'll almost be like I'll have him with me as a guide."

"This is insanity," Gendra shook her head.

Ferren only turned and tucked the letters safely into her pack. "I don't expect you to understand. But I need you to at least trust me. This is something I have to do. Or I'll be dead."

They stared for a long, silent moment at each other. Gendra let out a heavy sigh.

"All right. But I'm coming with you."

Ferren shook her head. "Gendra, you can't--"

"Ah-ah, I don't want to hear it," she wagged a finger at her. "I'm coming, whether I have to chase you all the way to Jemorae or not."

Ferren's pursed lips twisted into a smile.

"Than I guess it's settled. Get your things ready and packed. We leave today."