Chapter Thirty-Nine
Hope
Iain didn’t turn around when they ran into the clinic. “They’re asleep again,” he calmly stated, wiping his hands on a rag. The placed had already been scrubbed. No trace of the roaches’ attack remained. Lucien caught the sound of men digging on the other side of the wall.
Dropping to his knees next to Johna, he pulled off a glove and lightly touched her cheek. She was breathing regularly, and didn’t appear to be in any distress. More promising, her skin was no longer pasty white. He glanced over at where his father was lovingly brushing Atty’s hair away from her face, then up at the physician. “What happened?”
“I was tending to your mother and debating whether or not I needed to intubate her again, when she just opened her eyes and looked right at me. At first I thought she was still out of it, and it was a response to me touching her, when I realized she was actually looking at me.”
“Did she say anything?” Yulen asked.
“No. Nothing. But I saw clarity in her eyes. She knew it was me, and knew what I was doing. I can’t tell you whether or not she knew where she was or why, but I think she was aware of the fact that she’d been very ill.” Iain motioned toward Johna. “I went to check on her, and she showed signs of regaining consciousness. That’s when I ordered one of the soldiers working outside to notify you.”
“What’s your prognosis, Iain?” Lucien questioned.
This time, when the doctor heaved a loud sigh, they knew the answer before he told them. “I don’t know. This bumfuzzles me because I’ve never seen this kind of behavior, or heard of a survivor waking up just hours later. It’s normally several days later when they come to, and it’s at that time when we can determined if they’re Damaged…or not.”
“Would Liam or Dr. Fergus know?” Yulen inquired. “I’m not trying to second guess you, Iain.”
“I understand. They have decades more experience,” Iain commented. “To be honest, I’m curious to know if they’ve ever encountered this, or were aware of it, and simply didn’t tell me.”
“We’re at a crossroads, Dad. What’s our next plan of action?”
To his astonishment, Yulen threw the question right back at him. “What would you suggest?”
Lucien already knew what he wanted to do. Whether or not his father agreed with him didn’t matter, anyway. The odds were Mattox would become the next true battle lord, either when his parents stepped down or were killed, with himself and Mistelle becoming like Mattox’s seconds. Knowing how fiercely Yulen and Atty lived and loved, he believed they would see their end together, fighting alongside each other. Ultimately giving their lives for their beliefs, their family, and their compounds.
“I’d send a battalion ahead to scout out Green River, if for no other reason than to reassure myself that the place was another abandoned compound. Give myself a clear conscience. And because I’d be able to say I followed through with my promise to lend aid, in case there were survivors there. As for everyone else, I’d order them to head back to Alta Novis. I think the whole point of this trip was an attempt by outside forces to destroy us, and was never meant to be a rescue mission in the first place.”
Yulen reached down to caress his wife’s face once more before pulling his glove back on. “Those are my thoughts exactly. Let’s go listen to Teeterson. Find out what he has to tell us. I’ll then inform Grimsy that he and his men have one more duty to perform.”
“Maybe you could send some of Turenski’s archers with them,” Lucien added.
Yulen smiled. “You’re beginning to scare me, Luc. I was thinking about doing exactly that, as well.” The battle lord cast one more loving glance at Atty. “You’re more like your mother than you’ll ever know, son. Iain, have Destino’s men see what they can do to fashion together a couple of travois for your patients. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Not today?” the doctor wondered.
“No. Let’s give the Bloods a few hours’ head start before Grimsy and his men hit the road.” Yulen managed a wan smile. “I also need a few hours of rest. I can tell my mind’s becoming a bit foggy from lack of sleep.”
Lucien gave Johna a final look, then stood and followed his father into the dining hall.
* * *
The wind was brisk on top of the wall. Lucien breathed deeply of the subtle smells of earth and rock. They were so different from the smells he was accustomed to. Back home, the rich scents came from the forest land that surrounded Alta Novis. From the meals being cooked. From the wood smoke. Just thinking about it made him homesick.
He became aware of a presence walking up behind him. It stopped behind him but didn’t speak, and he smiled. “You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“Your mother is dreaming, and they’re entering my subconscious.”
He turned to give his father a curious look. “What kind of dreams? Or do I need to know?” he hastily added.
Yulen chuckled. “She’s hunting something. I can’t tell what, but it’s…fascinating.”
A thought struck him. “If she’s dreaming, could that be a sign that her mind’s intact?”
“I asked Iain that question. He said we can’t pin our hopes on it. It could be she’s reliving an event that happened in her past, which could mean she’ll still have difficulty coping with the present. The Damaged are like that. They can’t distinguish reality from fantasy, or past from present.”
Lucien studied his father’s face. “But you don’t think she’s Damaged.” When his father didn’t answer, he pressed the issue. “Have you ever dreamt her dreams before?” He knew his parents had a unique connection, but this was the first time he’d heard of this happening.
“No,” Yulen replied softly. “This is a first.”
They stared out at the empty landscape. Yulen moved up next to his son and placed his hands on the top of the wall. “Luc, I want to talk to you about affairs of the heart.”
Lucien propped an arm on the wall and leaned against it. “You mean Johna.”
“Yes. Her. Luc, how do you feel about her?”
“Are you asking me if I love her?”
“Do you?”
“I think I do.”
“But you’re not sure.”
Lucien made a disparaging sound and shrugged. “Kind of hard to claim to love someone when I’ve never felt like this about another woman before. How do I know it’s love?”
“You’re confused. Uncertain.”
“Yeah. We haven’t known each other that long.”
“Tell me. When you’re with her, when it’s just the two of you, how does she make you feel? Does she make you smile?”
“Yes.”
“Does she make you laugh? Does she surprise you? Do you enjoy being around her to the point where you seek her out when she’s away?”
Lucien grinned. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about me and Johna?”
“Because I want you to realize that what you’re experiencing isn’t unique to just you. You’re uncertain as to whether or not what you feel for her is love. Just answer me one more question. If she should turn out to be Damaged, would you be able to kill her to protect others?”
He felt the blood drain from his face and congeal inside his stomach. The look of devastation on his face wasn’t lost on his father.
“You’ve already been thinking about it, haven’t you?” Yulen gently asked.
He couldn’t deny it. His parents had always been able to read him, as well as his two siblings.
“Well?”
“Yes.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. Hot tears rose into his eyes, but he forced himself to keep his hands away from his face. He wouldn’t cry. Not now, and not in front of his father. “Yes, I would.”
“Why?”
He stared angrily at the man. “Why? Because no one else has that right but me.”
“You mean no one else loves her the way you do. And maybe because she may not want anyone else to do it.”
It took him a moment to swallow around the lump forming in his throat. “Yes.”
Yulen patted him on the shoulder. “You’re at a cusp, Luc. You and Johna haven’t known each other that long, that’s true, but that doesn’t meant what you’re feeling isn’t the forever kind of love you want in your lives.”
“Which we may never have.”
“There is that possibility. But you can’t give up on her. Not yet. There’s still hope.”
Lucien studied his father’s face. “What makes you so sure?”
His father tapped him on the chest. “Because I believe your blood is the cure. Your mother and Johna are alive and getting better because of you. You’ve seen it for yourself. Even Iain’s commented on how quickly they’re recovering. That’s enough to give me hope they’ll both come out of this sane and whole.” Giving him another clap on the shoulder, the battle lord turned to leave. “I’m going back to try and get another hour or two of sleep. I suggest you do the same.” Without waiting for his son to comment, he descended the stone steps.
Lucien turned back to the barren landscape. The stars overhead seemed unusually bright. Only a small corner of the broken moon was visible.
Hopeful.
There’s still hope.
I believe your blood is the cure.
“So do I,” he murmured. “I pray I don’t let you down.” Taking a deep breath, he swiped the tears from his eyes and left the parapet.
When he entered the clinic, he noticed his father already sound asleep, spooned against his mother’s back. Iain was absent, probably gone to tend to the soldiers who’d been wounded in the skirmish. He also noticed that the crack in the wall where the roaches had retreated was now blocked by several large rocks.
Going over to Johna, he joined her, taking her into his arms the same way Yulen held Atty. Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, he murmured, “Get well, Johna. Be well. There’s so much I want to share with you.” She moved slightly, but remained oblivious.
He joined her less than a minute later.