Cinder removed her glove and placed the back of her hand against Peony’s forehead. Warm to the touch and damp. The third stage of letumosis.
She spread the green blanket over Peony, then stood, wondering if she should wake her or if it was better to let her rest. Rocking back on her heels, she looked around. The bed behind her was empty. The one on the opposite side of Peony was occupied by a petite form turned away from her, curled in a fetal position. A child.
Cinder started as she felt a tug on her left wrist. Peony was gripping her steel fingers, squeezing with the little strength she had left. Her eyes watched Cinder, pleading. Afraid. Awed, as if Peony were seeing a ghost.
Cinder swallowed hard and sat down on the bed. It was almost as hard as the floor in her own bedroom.
“Take me home?” Peony said, her voice scratching at the words.
Cinder flinched. She covered Peony’s hand. “I brought you a blanket,” she said, as if it explained her presence.
Peony’s gaze fell from her. Her free hand traced the texture of the brocade. They said nothing for a long time, until a shrill scream reached them. Peony’s hands clenched as Cinder spun around, searching, sure someone was being murdered.
A woman four aisles away was thrashing in her bed, screeching, begging to be left alone as a calm med-droid waited to inject her with a syringe. A minute later, two more androids arrived to hold the woman still, forcing her down on the bed, holding her arm out to receive the shot.
Feeling Peony curl up beside her, Cinder turned back. Peony was shaking.
“I’m being punished for something,” Peony said, shutting her eyes.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cinder said. “The plague, it’s just…it isn’t fair. I know. But you didn’t do anything wrong.”
She patted the girl’s hand.
“Are Mom and Pearl…?”
“Heartbroken,” said Cinder. “We all miss you so much. But they haven’t caught it.”
Peony’s eyes flickered open. She scanned Cinder’s face, her neck. “Where are your spots?”
Lips parting, Cinder rubbed absently at her throat, but Peony didn’t wait for an answer. “You can sleep there, right?” she said, gesturing to the empty bed. “They won’t give you a bed far away?”
Cinder squeezed Peony’s hands. “No, Peony, I’m not…” She looked around but no one was paying them any attention. A med-droid two beds away was helping a patient take a drink of water. “I’m not sick.”
Peony listed her head. “You’re here.”
“I know. It’s complicated. You see, I went to the letumosis research center yesterday, and they tested me and…Peony, I’m immune. I can’t get letumosis.”
Peony’s tense brow melted. She scanned Cinder’s face, neck, arms again, as if her immunity were something visible, something that should have been apparent. “Immune?”
Cinder rubbed Peony’s hand more quickly, anxious now that she’d told someone her secret. “They asked me to go back again today. The head doctor thinks he might be able to use me to find an antidote. I told him that if he finds anything, anything at all, you have to be the first person to get it. I made him promise.”
She watched, amazed, as Peony’s eyes began to fill with tears. “Really?”
“Absolutely. We’re going to find one.”
“How long will it take?”
“I-I’m not sure.”
Peony’s other hand found her wrist and squeezed. Her long nails dug into Cinder’s skin, but it took her a long time to register the pain. Peony’s breath had grown rapid. More tears pooled in her eyes, but some of the instant hope had faded, leaving her wild with desperation. “Don’t let me die, Cinder. I wanted to go to the ball. Remember? You were going to introduce me to Prince—” She turned her head, scrunching her face up in a vain attempt to hold in the tears, or hide them, or squeeze them out faster. Then a harsh cough burst from her mouth, along with a thin trail of blood.
Cinder grimaced, then reached forward and swiped the blood off Peony’s chin with the corner of the brocade blanket. “Don’t give up, Peony. If I’m immune, then there has to be a way to defeat it. And they’re going to find it. You’re still going to the ball.” She considered telling Peony that Iko had managed to save her dress, but realized that would require telling her that everything else she’d ever touched was gone. She cleared her throat and stroked Peony’s hair off her temple. “Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?”
Peony shook her head against the worn pillow, holding the blanket against her mouth. But then she raised her eyes. “My portscreen?”
Cinder flinched with guilt. “I’m sorry. It’s still broken. But I’ll look at it tonight.”
“I just want to comm Pearl. And Mom.”
“Of course. I’ll bring it to you, as soon as I can.” Peony’s portscreen. The prince’s android. The car. “I’m so sorry, Peony, but I need to go.”
The small hands tightened.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”