Paxton stared longingly up the hill where the Ascomannians were disappearing into the dark, freezing rain.
“Leave me,” Harrison said. “I’ll be fine. They won’t wait.”
“No.” Paxton’s face was tight with resignation. “It’s useless to track in this weather.” He got under one of Harrison’s arms and Tiern automatically moved to support his other side. “We’ll find some semblance of shelter until daylight.” They’d been hiking half the night, but were still barely into the ridgelands.
Tiern pointed toward the rockier area. “Perhaps through there.”
Paxton nodded, and off they went. Walking with an invalid in the freezing cold was neither quick nor simple. They maneuvered clumsily through the trees and over debris and rocks. A thin layer of ice had accumulated over everything, and Tiern found himself shivering once again. His teeth chattered against his will, and Harrison’s joined his. After an agonizing hour they found a high rock that jutted out with an overhanging tree, providing a few feet of meager shelter.
“Let Tiern be in the middle,” Harrison said. The brothers lowered him to the edge of the dry patch and Tiern practically fell beside him. The three of them huddled together, not moving for the first time in hours, and soon Tiern’s body completely overtook his mind. Next to him, Harrison’s head slumped in immediate sleep. Together they shivered, but Tiern’s body quaked violently after having run and hiked for hours in the cold. He looked down at his hands and was somewhat amused to find that he couldn’t bend his fingers. His toes wouldn’t move inside his boots either. He laughed aloud, or maybe it was in his mind. Tiern vaguely noticed Paxton staring at him. Such a worrier, that one.
The world went in and out of focus.
“. . . need a bloody fire,” he heard Paxton muttering to himself, turning out his pockets and cursing once again. He wanted to laugh at the sight of Paxton on his knees, gathering a pile of soaking, icy twigs. Paxton glanced up at Tiern, who could feel his own head tilt to the side, leaning against Harrison’s. He couldn’t read Paxton’s expression at first, but when it hit him, it fractured something inside him.
His brother was afraid. But . . . Paxton wasn’t afraid of anything.
Tiern’s body quaked, and his eyes fluttered. He stared at Paxton, who watched him fight to stay awake. Tiern failed, his eyes shutting, but he struggled against the complete overtaking of sleep, too shaken by the look in his brother’s eyes. He heard an ongoing hiss, then a crackle. Tiern’s eyes cracked open and he slowly understood how dire his situation was.
He was hallucinating. He blinked, but the strange sight was still there, Paxton hunkered down, his fists tight around a handful of twigs, and smoke seeping from the ends. Each angle of his brother’s face was stern with concentration. It looked as if Paxton were drying the sticks. And then, one by one, he lit them aflame.
With his hands.
Sudden warmth hit Tiern’s skin, causing his body to jolt in reaction. So this is what it feels like to go mad. . . . His eyes rolled back as he passed out.
Chapter
29
“Please!” The woman’s shaking hands were splayed across her swollen belly as she begged Paxton’s grandmother. “I know you’re Lashed! My own mother told me. I know you can feel for its heart and . . . and . . .” The woman began crying. “This is my sixth pregnancy. None have lasted this long. Please . . .”
His grandmother’s face was fearsome. “If I help you, I will be killed when they do the census. I have grandsons to care for. I cannot risk it. Please . . . you must go.”
The women hadn’t noticed young Paxton sidling closer, watching their interaction and soaking in their shared desperation. The answer seemed simple in his mind. This woman needed help. Who could fault someone for helping?
Paxton had never seen a pregnant stomach before. He found himself face-to-face with the intriguing bulge, and without thought, he gently placed both his hands on it. Immediately he felt a natural heat flow through his body, pounding inside his hands, emanating from him. The woman gave a giant gasp, which was followed by his grandmother’s own intake of air.
“Pax!”
“Don’t touch him!” The woman screamed, covering Paxton’s small hands with her own. His grandmother covered her mouth, her eyes watering. Paxton closed his eyes, lost to the sensation. It was as if he were searching for something through a dark maze, using only this internal sense, seeking around inside this mass in front of him, and when he found it, like a star of waning energy, his hands heated again, infusing something into this woman, into the small body that lay curled in her womb. Her stomach jumped under his fingers, and his hands cooled. A rush of energy buzzed inside him. He lowered his arms and watched as the woman ran her hands across her rounded belly. The laugh she let out, and the beaming smile she gave him was like a gift.