The Library of Fates(42)

It was getting dark. I wondered when Varun would return. Something rustled in the distance and I jumped, my eyes scanning the woods. My heart raced, throbbing like fire in my ears. A small creature sprang from the brush, running toward us. I braced myself, swiftly grabbing a stick with my hands and getting back on my feet.

I squinted my eyes. A rabbit. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m so cold,” Thala groaned.

“I know,” I said, trying to hide the panic in my voice. It was cooling down, but it was still summer, balmy and warm.

I made Thala a nest of leaves and twigs. With a handful of grass, I crafted her a pillow. Since there was no one nearby, I removed the scarf from around her face and covered her with it. Then I took off my own scarf and layered it over the first one. I sat beside her, keeping watch. I was determined to keep her unharmed.

“If I go—” Thala started.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I told her, my voice firm. “We have a deal. You’ll be fine. We’ll go to Macedon and find your family.” I said it as though I believed it. I had to. “Varun will be here soon, with a medicine man. He’s probably on his way back by now.” I wondered if my words actually made a difference. If they gave her peace of mind.

Thala paused for a moment and gasped for breath. “This is why,” she said.

“What is why? What do you mean?”

“Why I’m desperate to go to the Library. This is why. I don’t just want to change the part about my being kidnapped by Sikander’s men, about being a slave. They started giving me chamak when I was nine. Now I’m sixteen. I don’t even know if I can live without it. Don’t you understand? If I don’t change my fate, I’ll never be normal.”

Her words caused all the air to escape from my lungs, as hot tears streamed from my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Thala. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I’m sorry I didn’t understand.”

She reached for my hand. “You can’t let him get control of the chamak. You’re right to go to the Sybillines. You’re right to warn them. It’s in Sikander’s interest to breed addicts like me. The sicker people like me become, the more powerful he is.”

It was horrific, what she was suggesting, and I felt an uncontrollable outrage toward Sikander. Everything bad that had ever happened in my life was because of him. And I imagined that it was the same for so many others.

“It’s hot. I feel like my hands and feet are on fire.”

I remembered what Varun had said about Thala’s body burning up from the inside out. How he had told me it would get worse before it got better. I needed to distract her. “Tell me about your mother,” I urged her.

Her breathing was rapid, her entire body drenched in sweat. I fanned her with a large leaf.

“She has red hair,” she said.

“Like yours.”

“And kind eyes . . . the best seer I ever knew. Maybe she can even see me now.”

“Thala, we’ll find that Library. I promise you. I don’t know how, but we have to.”

“I know we will,” she said. “I’ve known that from the very beginning. I just hope we find it before it’s too late.”

“What do you mean?”

“It was the very first vision I had when I saw you,” she said, and her eyes turned a clear green, the color of algae. “You were there. You’re the only one who can find it. He’ll let you in, I know it. But I don’t know if you’ll be able to get there in time to change my fate. I don’t know if it will be too late for me. If there’s a chance for me to change this one life . . .”

She didn’t finish. Instead, she closed her eyes, slumping back against the tree. I didn’t know whether she was hallucinating or if what she was saying was true, but I understood now why the Library was so important to Thala.

And I was afraid. Thala was shaking violently now, her whole body seizing with tremors. Small cries escaped her lips.

“It hurts,” she whimpered. “It burns!”

I grabbed the skin of water, poured some on my scarf, and tried to cool her down, but by now she could barely even speak. My heart raced with terror. I watched her eyes roll back into her head, leaving behind an ocean of white.

“Thala, it’s all right, just stay with me. He’ll be here soon, he’ll—” My voice was frantic, desperate, but it was no use. I wasn’t a healer. I dabbed the cloth on her forehead, panicked tears streaming down my face. “Just stay with me. Please,” I cried.

I wish I had somehow been prepared for the turn that took place then. I wish I didn’t remember her screams, her body convulsing in agony, as though she was literally on fire. Her cries were desperate, as if her skin was being lacerated by hot knives. Her hands shook. When her wails became so loud that they pierced the quiet of the forest, I had to cover her mouth, for fear that someone on the trail—possibly Sikander’s men—would hear us and find us.

I wondered, as I spoke to Thala in a soothing voice, trying to cool her down, if Varun had duped me, if I had been seduced by his attractiveness. Perhaps there was no medicine man; perhaps he simply fled at the sight of a messy situation involving two young girls he didn’t know. Maybe I had been wrong to trust him after all. What did I know of him? He was a stranger I had met on the path to Mount Moutza.