Before She Ignites (Fallen Isles Trilogy #1)(38)

Treatment?

Vaguely, I became aware of a faint pressure against my inner elbow, and strength flowing in. I could breathe easier. My heart beat at an even pace. Drowsiness made my thoughts float away, but the panic had subsided.

I must have moved or made a sound, because Altan said, “Good morning, Fancy.” Fingertips grazed my forehead, like he was brushing aside a loose strand of hair. Disgust rolled through me, but I couldn’t find it in myself to move away. His presence was paralyzing. “Certain people thought we’d lost you, but I knew better.”

A shudder ran the length of me. That wasn’t true. Altan didn’t know anything about me.

My mouth still felt too dry to speak, but even if I could have, I wouldn’t have known how to respond. At least I could open my eyes now.

Two people stood over me. Altan, of course, wearing his customary smirk. A middle-aged woman I didn’t know, and didn’t want to; a scowl looked permanently etched onto her face. A tall wooden stand held a canvas bag aloft, and a thin tube ran from the bag and met its end at a needle, which pressed into my arm.

“Coconut water.” Altan watched my gaze. “Inserted directly into your veins. Commonly used to revive warriors and trainees who collapse from heat and dehydration.”

I’d heard about that, actually. Doctor Chilikoba had been called to Khulan to consult on whether the Khulani doctors should be allowed to continue this practice, though I’d never been told the decision reached. When she’d returned, she’d spent our entire visit telling me why she liked the theory behind this, but not the technique used. “It’s a quick way to rehydrate someone, but there’s not enough prevention of air bubbles from being introduced into the blood. Even a small bubble could kill someone. It’s a brilliant idea, but Khulani doctors need to perfect the treatment before continuing to use it on patients. They risk killing as many as they save.”

Her lecture had been distantly interesting, but I’d never thought it might apply to me one day. I’d always assumed Doctor Chilikoba would be the only doctor looking after me.

But the Pit changed everything. What if the liquid ran out and they had to add more? What if they hadn’t been careful filling the bag in the first place? Anything could add a bubble of air that moved directly into my veins.

Considering how concerned they were about my life and health, this seemed like an unnecessary risk. With my free hand, I reached for the needle.

The frowning woman slapped my fingers. “Don’t touch.”

A whimper crawled out of my throat. I did not want that thing inside me. Yes, it was saving me right now, but every second it stayed there risked a surprise death.

Altan gestured toward the scowling lady. “This is Rosa. Yes, she’s Daminan. No, she won’t help you escape. She works for the Pit infirmary.” He offered a cup. “Drink.”

The coconut water cloyed on my tongue. I’d never liked it, even as a child. Too sweet. But now, I emptied the cup in seven long gulps. The cool liquid flowed down my throat and stomach, repairing the damage done by days without a drink. As I lowered the cup, I finally got a look around the room.

I was in an infirmary. One I’d cleaned before. Four stone walls, five empty beds, two observation windows, and one open door with a retreating figure. The woman Altan had been talking with before he noticed I was awake? It hadn’t been Rosa; her voice was too rough.

Two more cups of coconut water went down before my throat no longer felt like a desert.

I wished I didn’t know about the missing dragons. I wished for ignorance. For the freedom to continue life as before, with my mother and father and sister who didn’t understand me, with my guard and friend who knew me, and with my tiny dragon who meant everything in the world to me. I wished for that innocence again.

If I hadn’t snooped in places I didn’t belong, I wouldn’t be here now. Starved. Dehydrated. Dirty. Miserable. Trapped. The unnatural sensation of liquid dripping into my arm, a small bubble of death ready to strike any second.

Altan stood over me, tall and imposing. “What did you think of being alone?” A muscle ticked by his jaw. Two, three, four times. His eyes were narrowed, all humor pressed out of them.

Strength through silence, like Aaru had said. If I refused to respond, nothing I said could be used against me. Of course, it was my silence that had gotten me locked in my cell. Alone. And starving.

Four days. It had seemed like so much longer.

“How did you like the dark?” Altan’s voice deepened as he leaned toward me, more dangerous than ever. “Were you lonely? Afraid? Hungry?”

A low groan built in my throat. I didn’t want to think about the nightmare of that isolation. My body didn’t obey, though. My hands shook and my heart sped, warning of an attack. I fought to steady my breathing, in through my nose and out through my mouth. One. Two.

Three. Four.

Five. Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Please, Damina.

Nine.

Please.

Ten.

But my head buzzed and my vision tunneled, like the anxiety didn’t care that I had no energy for another attack right now. The anxiety never cared.

“Maybe we don’t have such different goals.” Altan stood straight and shook the danger from his tone, confident I wouldn’t forget the threat. He gestured to Rosa. “Will our guest live if you remove the needle now?”