“You scared me.” His voice is tight and thick. “Don’t do it again.”
I do laugh, just a little. It takes a few clearings of my throat to manage, “I didn’t plan for this, you know.”
He kisses my temple. “Humor me.”
I tug on him and shift the blankets so he can slide down next to me. I tangle all of our limbs so we become a knotted pretzel, all one piece and impossible to separate. “What happened? I can’t remember much.”
“I’ll always find you, Chloe. Always.” He kisses me slowly, trying to distract me, but as nice as this is, I need answers. He sighs and continues, “It was a miracle we found you when we did, though, because if even a few more hours had gone by, you would’ve been . . .”
His words fall away, replaced by silent agony that he struggles with.
“Dead,” I finish for him. And I realize it’s true, and yet, I don’t really feel anything for that word now. Like it’s behind glass, untouchable even though I was drowning in it recently. “But I’m not, so don’t even go there.”
He shudders in my arms. “You were hallucinating when I found you, singing about rabbits and rainbows and metal umbrellas. The Shamans on the ground said you were severely dehydrated. They had to hook you up to an IV, which was drastic, because apparently using ‘normal’ medical devices like that are considered archaic to Shamans. They acted like it was the same as using crystals or voodoo spells. But they were able to counter everything else the moment you hit the hospital two days ago.”
Whoa. Two whole days of being asleep? I look down at my hand; it’s smooth, unmarked. There isn’t even a hole or a bruise to mark where the IV would have lain. “Where’s Kellan?”
He’s silent for a long moment, like he’s deciding whether or not to tell me. But then, “Next door. Before you ask, Kel isn’t awake yet.”
All of my fears over Kellan sleeping in the cave rear their ugly heads. My fingers dig in as I grip his shirt. “Why?”
I feel Jonah’s sigh before he shifts and props his head up on his hand. “I’ll tell you, but you need to listen to everything I have to say and not freak out. The moment you do, I’m going to stop, because the Shamans have warned me to not get you upset. Okay?”
Telling me not to panic is pretty much the best way to get me to do so. So I say, “I need to hear everything. If you think I’m panicking, do something to stop it—but you will tell me everything.”
This surprises him, because it’s rare he uses his mojo on me. But he does as I ask. “I’m sure it comes as no surprise that Kellan was much worse off than you were. I mean, he knew that was a risk when he used his powers over you like he did for two straight days.” His voice lowers. “He was pretty much down to nothing. It was scary, especially when he . . .” Jonah blows out a hard breath. “He’s in a coma. He held out long enough to make sure you were okay, and then he . . . he couldn’t hold on any longer.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, and the panic takes hold. Gentle hands wrap around my head and the anxiety ebbs, but it’s the knowledge that it should be there that gets me, as well as a word that is beyond terrifying.
“Honey,” Jonah says, soft and soothing, “he’s here in this hospital, in the next room, with the best Shaman in all the worlds working on him. I’m told that right now, the coma is his body’s way of getting the rest he needs. Do not stress over this. I’m keeping a very close eye on him and am driving everyone insane with my insistences and questions.”
“Why can’t they just wake him up? They’re Shamans! They should be able to fix everything—”
“Not everything. You know that. No Magical’s craft is absolute.”
“Comas,” I say, and the word tastes bitter as it leaves my mouth, “are things that they should be able to fix.”
“Not always.” His fingers are gentle against my cheek. “It’s a testament to his strength that he held out as long as he did, when most people would’ve succumbed much earlier. The Shamans insist he will be fine. They could force him out of the coma if I demanded it, but it was suggested to let him remain in one until his body chooses to wake up. Sometimes the body knows best. And I wouldn’t let him stay in it if I thought it was going to hurt him. You know this.”
I stare at the door he’s indicated. “He’s through there?” Jonah nods. “You said I’m good, that I’m all better?”
He nods again, smoothing some of my hair down. So I will the door out of existence, needing to look into the next room.
Kellan is in the distance, uncharacteristically pale against the pillows and white sheets. His head is tilted towards one side, angled toward the windows. If I hadn’t just heard what I had, I’d assume he was napping. There is no IV, no machines, no nothing.
Just a boy in a bed. Sleeping.
I force my attention away from Kellan, back to Jonah. “How’d you find us?”