Page 8 of Awariye

Furling my fingers through the water as if I had my Gallic harp with me, I summoned my inner strength and began to sing:

As long as you live, be happy.

Do not grieve at all.

Life's span is short.

Time exacts the final reckoning.

"That one's better, young bard," Sigrid encouraged, and I beamed under her praise.

Igor's expression had softened, his smile almost disbelieving as he seemed to draw strength from the song. "That's it. I remember it so clearly now."

I hoped that recollection did not bring him pain.

"Danke," he thanked me.

"Bitte bitte," I answered in kind. "You do not need to thank me."

Sigrid saved me by declaring my bath over and soliciting Igor to help me out and into the guest room. The heat from the water stayed in my body long enough for me to get into some clothes Wren had brought for me and into the hallway, hopefully out of earshot of Sigrid.

"Faster, please," I whispered as Igor helped me along. "I'm about to catch chill."

I didn't know how else to describe it, but I could feel it coming, and fear coursed through me.

Igor didn't comment, but thankfully he listened and hustled us along.

Just as we got into the guest room and a guard dog plopped outside our door, a piercing cold slammed into me like a wall of water and I groaned. "Ugh, nngh."

"What is it?" asked Igor.

"Bed, now. Please, I'm so cold."

This was something I'd experienced on my travels: not just of being unable to keep warm, but of not getting enough nutrition and medicine into my system for my body to be able to maintain a comfortable temperature in a healthy way. These chillshurtand became inescapable once they got started, then took a long time to abate. It was impossible to sleep through them.

"Agh!" I cried as Igor rushed me to the bed, threw the blankets aside, and allowed me to scramble onto the mattress. Then he covered me with all the layers in the room and slid on top of the bed himself, hugging me from behind to trap the heat in.

"Danke, nngh," I thanked him and swore between rounds of heaving shivers that made me quake.

"Alles okay," he repeated over and over, squeezing me and forcing the warmth into my chilled limbs.

Blessed comfort began to trickle in oh so slowly, and with that tiny relief, I passed out.

CHAPTERSIX

AWARIYE

"He was groaning like he was in pain, but I couldn't wake him," I heard Igor say.

"I came to check on him, and he looked like this, doctor," said Wren.

I opened my eyes, but I was not in my body. I was floating above my body, my consciousness still attached to physical incarnation by means of a silver string stretching from my solar plexus, the energy center where the sides of my rib cage joined. Indeed, I did look the worse for wear. I'd known I was in trouble because I hadn't eaten well for a good handful of days. But having not seen a mirror in quite a while, I didn't know I looked so wrung out and had such dark circles under my eyes.

Then I took in where I was in surprise. Igor was sitting up on the edge of the bed and held me in his lap. He looked up at the elderly doctor next to Wren, Ulbrecht, and Ingeborg with worry on his face. Wren's mentor Ingeborg was someone I had met previously whenever she’d visited Diana Monastery to see Wren. Now serving as Ulbrecht's personal magician, she locked bright green eyes on me and gave a smile and a wink, conveying that she could see me but would keep my secret.

The doctor touched my forehead, and I marveled that although I was watching everything from an arm's length above Igor's shoulders, I couldn't feel what was happening to my body.

"He has lapsed into a fever and will likely hallucinate and dehydrate, which could end him if it lasts for too long," the old doctor said frankly, causing Wren to gasp. "Keep him as hydrated and comfortable as you can. Give him broth, juice, medicinal wine, and water infused with what herbs you have—I will make a list—then come for me when his fever breaks."