Reign of Shadows (Reign of Shadows, #1)(18)

Sivo stood in the corner, looking bleary-eyed. Luna was beside him, her arms crossed in front of her defensively as though she was trying to shield herself from me.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

Perla nodded to the boy on the bed. “His fever has spiked. I fear it won’t break. We’re losing him.”

Dagne choked on a sob, burying her face against where his arm rested limply on the bed, her fair hair a pale banner of gold against the bedding.

I searched Perla’s face, wondering why she was telling me this. If he was dying, there was nothing I could do about it.

“That’s too bad,” I heard myself saying.

If they were expecting sympathy, they weren’t going to get it. People died every day. This world was more about dying than living. The goal was that it just not be me lying fever-ridden in a bed—or becoming food for dwellers. Some days even that goal felt insignificant. Fighting for survival had become reflex and not something I even considered anymore.

“You sound real shaken over that,” Luna’s voice chimed in. My gaze shot to her. For a girl without sight, she pulled off the scathing glare rather well.

“Are you sorry for him then?” I challenged. “You just met him.”

“I am sorry for him, yes. Any loss of life is something to grieve.”

Dagne lifted her face, her cheeks wet from tears. “Would you stop it? He’s not dead yet. Stop talking about him like he is.”

“I’m sorry.” Luna shook her head, looking truly morose.

I snorted. Such a soft heart. She cared too much over one boy dying. Didn’t she know yet? People you loved, the ones you cared about the most, they all died eventually. No one was spared. When you lost them, everything you had, all of your heart, was lost, too. It crippled you. Left you an empty shell, functioning on instinct alone.

“You’re horrible,” she whispered, so softly that I perhaps wasn’t supposed to hear her.

My mouth kicked up at one corner. “You haven’t any idea what I think or feel. You live in your private sanctum. You don’t know what the world out there is truly like.”

Even if I wanted to care about someone again, there was nothing left in the shell of me. My heart might beat, but that part of me was gone.

Luna’s gaze rested in my general direction. “I’ve been out there—”

“Have you ever been a stone’s throw from this tower?” At her silence, I knew she had not. “When things get messy you dive back into your hole, right? You’re fortunate. You haven’t had a taste of what it’s really like.”

Color splashed her cheeks. “So if I did . . . I’d be as heartless as you?”

“Yes.” He paused on a breath. “If wise. Because the heartless survive.”

She inhaled a deep, rattling breath. I tried not to notice. Not this. Not anything about her. Still, my gaze assessed. As slim as she was, she had curves.

My gaze flicked to Sivo, noting the rigid set to his big shoulders. My assessment was not overlooked. Protective fury hummed from him. I understood the silent threat. He’d kill to protect her. I nodded once to him, letting him know he wouldn’t have to worry about me.

“You say that as though proud,” she accused. “How can you think that’s right? That being heartless is right?”

“Nothing about anything is right anymore.”

She shook her head. My words hung between us as I committed her to memory. Luna was all emotion, her face like a glimmer of daybreak amid perpetual night. She gazed at me, her eyes somehow fixed on me, her expression full of reproach.

Silence hung in the room, the faint sniffling from Dagne the only sound.

Sivo closed a hand over her shoulder and squeezed gently. She offered him a weak smile.

“There’s a chance for the boy yet,” Perla offered with a heavy breath. “Nisan weed.”

“Nisan weed?” I frowned, vaguely familiar with the herb. When I was a boy, my nurse had taken me with her to hunt for herbs at midlight. Nisan weed had been a prize find. I could still see her holding the little flower up to the feeble light, stroking its petals as though it were the greatest jewel. “Large red and yellow flowers with the dark centers?”

“Yes.” Perla nodded. “It works quickly, which is what he needs with a fever raging such as this.”

“I saw it on the way here,” I replied before I could consider what admitting such a thing signified.

“You did?” Sivo asked. “Not near here. I’ve picked it clean over the years.”

“Perhaps farther than you’re accustomed to traveling. It was about an hour’s walk from here.”

“You must go and bring it back,” Dagne pleaded, her fingers desperately clenching her brother’s limp hand.

I shook my head and faced Sivo. “I’m leaving at midlight—”

“Please!” Dagne cried, her face deepening to an even brighter red as new tears poured down her cheeks. “Do this one thing before you go.”

“You know the way?” Sivo pressed me.

“I can create a map directing you to where I spotted—”

“You said it’s an hour’s walk. Midlight won’t last that long. You could find the herb faster. You know directly where to go.”

I sighed, unable to argue with the truth of that. He would waste precious time searching.