Bastial Frenzy (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 4) (17 page)

Cleve stood, dizzy and weary. He’d turned too many times when it was dark to know which direction was west. Panic came next. But then he saw something that almost made him cry with joy.

Around a knoll was Lake Kayvol, sparkling with serene beauty. They were in Kyrro. Fifteen, maybe twenty more miles and they would be in Kyrro City. The wind was dreadfully cold, but they were so close, and there was no rain.

“Rek.” Cleve knelt to touch his arm. “We’re going to ride again.”

Rek grumbled, then whispered, “Don’t think I can stand.”

As Cleve retrieved the last of their water from his bag, his cracked lips and dry mouth begged him to drink before giving it to Rek. But he ignored the urge.

“Drink this,” Cleve said. “There’s only about a gulp left, but we’ll be in Kyrro City before the end of the day.”

He held the water pouch to Rek’s mouth before he could object.

“Can you eat?” Cleve asked next.

“Don’t know. Feel sick.”

Their bread was stale and wet, but Cleve forced Rek to eat some nonetheless. He woke Nulya next and offered her the rest of their apples. She ignored his meager offering and nibbled on the grass instead.

Cleve ate the apples himself. He knew he must’ve been famished, but he was too exhausted to tell. Just the little energy he’d expended since finding Lake Kayvol had made spots appear wherever he looked.

After he got Rek onto the saddle, Cleve nearly was overcome by dizziness. He needed a moment to steady himself before climbing on the saddle next.

Rek was slumped forward, barely able to keep himself upright. Cleve gently pulled Rek back to lean against him.

“Sleep if you can,” Cleve suggested.

But Rek was already out.

Nulya puttered forward, and then Rek let out a scream. “My shoulder,” he cried.

It had been pressed against Cleve’s chest. Somehow he’d forgotten. He couldn’t even recall how he got Rek on the saddle. He turned Rek slightly to relieve the pressure. Nulya balked when Cleve urged her to go faster. She clearly was exhausted, and he decided not to push her.

They rode in silence. When Cleve nearly tumbled off the saddle, he realized he’d fallen asleep. They were coming up to the lake. He steered Nulya toward it so she could drink.

Cleve knew he wouldn’t boil the water. He didn’t have it in him to make fire.

“Rek, don’t fall off.”

Rek mumbled something and then stiffened his upper body.

Cleve dismounted and filled his water pouch. He drank the whole thing, then refilled it and offered it to Rek.

The Elf was swaying back and forth in the saddle, his eyes closed, his breathing heavy. Sweat lined his forehead. He didn’t even know Cleve was there.

“Rek, can you hear me?”

He didn’t respond. Cleve led Nulya away from the water and climbed on her back. He held the pouch to Rek’s lips. But he wouldn’t drink. When Cleve forced his mouth open, Rek finally swallowed some before he began coughing fitfully.

They continued west, the sun brightening the horizon with a yellow crown.

“It looks like there won’t be any rain today, Rek. The clouds are thin, and the sky is blue. Can you see?”

Rek said nothing.

Cleve once more urged Nulya to go faster, and this time she listened. Her pace quickened to a trot.

Again, Cleve nearly slipped off the saddle as he struggled to stay awake. Something was different about this weariness, though. It seemed to strike him suddenly, like the need to sneeze or cough. His heart jumped with his next thought.

Am I losing consciousness?

He tried to remember how long they’d been riding. He could recall being at the lake, but not much else. He wondered if it was possible that he hadn’t slept at all the night before. He couldn’t remember eating anything either.

The sun was over his head. Wasn’t it just in front of him moments ago?

Rek’s neck was sweaty. Cleve asked, “Are you hot?” He was surprised by the sound of his own voice. It was weak and strained.

Rek didn’t reply.

Cleve removed Rek’s coat, putting it around his own shoulders instead. Sweat stained Rek’s lower back and armpits. Cleve considered removing Rek’s shirt too, but it wasn’t warm out.

Nulya was at a slow trot, grunting. She was sweating worse than Rek.

The only thing keeping Cleve conscious was his constant worry that they weren’t going to make it. He could see the city before him now. Oakshen was just behind them, to the south. If he’d known any chemists who could help Rek, he would’ve aimed the horse there instead. The thought of food and water almost made him do it. But Rek needed potions to save his life.

Still, Cleve was struggling to keep not only Rek on the saddle but himself as well. He couldn’t lift his head without feeling dizzy. Bubbles of light were popping around the top of his vision. Every so often, they slowly sank to block his view entirely. He felt nauseous when that happened, and time would slip away.

Nulya pushed forward. They were in Raywhite Forest now. It had become dark.

Cleve leaned to the side, preparing to retch. His stomach heaved, but nothing happened. How did night come so quickly? He barely could see where he was.

They should be close to Kyrro City. He couldn’t lift his head to check without dizziness taking him off the saddle. But he had to see where they were going.

Then he realized they were barely moving. Nulya was huffing loudly, and her legs were shaking. She seemed to trip on something and started to fall forward. Cleve grabbed Rek, but he couldn’t do much more than that.

Nulya collapsed. Cleve hit the ground. He had his arms around Rek’s stomach, but the Elf still didn’t say anything. Nulya was whimpering, her chest heaving with each breath.

Cleve tried to stand but didn’t have the strength. He couldn’t even lift his head.

He grunted as he tried once more, using his hands and knees to push off the ground. Then he was up. He bent down and lifted Rek, letting out a scream from the strain of it.

One step was all he took. Then his muscles gave out and Rek slipped from his grasp. Cleve tripped over him and fell flat on his chest.

He felt pain and nausea as darkness closed in again.

Chapter 14:

CLEVE

He heard voices and felt hands on him. Was it Rek trying to wake him up? He couldn’t tell. He struggled to open his eyes.

He was somewhere else now, lying on his back with someone trying to open his mouth.

“I think he’s awake,” a woman said. “Cleve? His name is Cleve, right? Cleve, can you hear me? I need you to drink this.”

He barely could open his mouth. Something tangy and salty touched his lips. He swallowed.

“You’re sick with a fever. It could be from exhaustion, malnourishment, or some illness, but whatever it is, this will help.”

Rek, Nulya, he wanted to ask about them but couldn’t.

“Drink some more. I’ll be back later.”

“Does he know what he’s drinking?” a man asked.

“I don’t think he even knows where he is,” the woman replied.

Cleve couldn’t hear the rest, for he already was falling out of consciousness again.

Dreams took over. He was running, trying to reach Kyrro City. But walls had been built while he was gone. There was no entrance.

“Cleve.” It was Reela’s voice. She was on Nulya, pointing to the Academy. “This way.”

He wanted to follow her, but he knew she was wrong. “I have to get inside Kyrro City.”

“The King will punish you if you try. Come with me instead. I’ll take you home.” She reached out her hand.

Nothing did he long for more than to feel Reela’s touch. He couldn’t resist. As soon as he took her hand, he floated onto the saddle. Reela pressed her palm against Nulya’s side, and the horse galloped toward the Academy.

The smell of Reela’s hair enveloped him, like tea with honey. He began to kiss her cheek. She giggled and ran her hand through his hair.

“There will be plenty of time for that later,” she said. “I’m trying to steer the horse.”

“Rek!” Cleve just then remembered the Elf. “I need to—”

“He’s right behind you.”

Cleve felt Rek’s hand on his stomach.

“You didn’t notice me here?” Rek seemed insulted, but at least he looked healthy again.

“Where are we going?” Cleve asked.

“Home,” Reela said.

Cleve assumed she meant the Academy, but as he looked over her head, all he could see was open land and the horizon.

“We’re already home,” Cleve said.

Reela turned and smiled. “I know.” But her mouth quickly became twisted. “Cleve, your skin!”

He looked at his arms as he felt cold creeping over him. A silver liquid was spreading, covering his fingers down to his elbows.

“It’s the medicine,” Reela said. “They’re experimenting on you.”

“Chemist bastards!” Cleve shook his arms, but it was no use. The glistening silver liquid spread to his chest and climbed up his neck.

He awoke sitting up, checking his arms, feeling his neck.

It was just a dream.

He felt odd, not so much feverish but…different. His hand rested on his leg, but his own touch felt foreign.

He touched his arm next. A giggle burst from his mouth. He knew he was acting strangely, but he didn’t care.

Then he realized he didn’t know where he was. He was suddenly excited to find out.

With an open mouth and childlike wonder, he inspected his surroundings. He was on a bed so soft and warm that he had the urge to crawl under its covers headfirst.

The only reason he didn’t was because something else was too interesting to ignore. There was a bookshelf nearly as tall as the ceiling, but it didn’t hold any books. This was a special bookshelf. It had potions of all colors, some red—most of them red, actually. Why were there so many red potions? Cleve wanted to see more of the blue ones. He found only two. One was light, the color of a clear sky. The other was dark like the Starving Ocean, reminding him of Jessend and Captain Mmzaza.

He felt the need to put the two blue potions together. They belonged next to each other.

“Don’t touch that!”

He gasped and turned, clutching the dark blue potion to his chest.

“Cleve, be
very
careful with that potion.” The woman was talking to him as if he were a baby. She wore a long white coat that identified her as a chemist. The glasses barely clinging to her small nose made her eyesight poor. And the twist of her mouth made her concerned. Cleve was so good at picking up clues. He wanted to tell her this as proof that she didn’t need to speak down to him. But he had trouble putting it into words.

Instead, he stomped his foot and said, “I am being careful.”

She cautiously approached with her hands out. “You're not yourself. Your judgment is poor right now because of the medicine we’ve given you. Let me have the potion.”

“No. It belongs next to the other blue one. I’m going to put it there.”

“I leave for one minute…” she muttered. “Cleve, listen to me.” She reached for the potion, but he twisted away. She held up her hands. “I won’t grab it. Just make sure you don’t drop that.”

Her words made Cleve realize he didn’t know what it was for. Now there was something else more important than putting it next to the other blue potion. He had to drink it. He pulled off the cork.

“Don’t do that!” She grabbed it. The liar grabbed it.

He pushed her away. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“If you drink that, you’ll die.”

“Die…?” Cleve started shaking with fear. He tried to put the cork back in but spilled some of the potion onto the wooden floor.

He heard a sizzle. Smoke followed. The blue substance turned red. It betrayed him! It was red just like the others. He wanted to break the bottle. The woman was running the opposite way, grabbing the sheets from the bed.

Cleve felt heat around his bare feet. The blue—no, red—potion had caught the floor on fire. The woman dove on top of it, smothering it with the sheets, ruining them.

“I was going to get back into bed!” Cleve complained. “Now I don’t want to.”

“Bastial hell, give me the potion right now!” She held out her hand.

Cleve handed it over, his eyes falling to her feet where she stood on the bed coverings. “I’m sorry. I can tell you’re upset because I’m good at figuring these things out.”

“There’s no point in talking to you while you’re like this. Follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’re going to stay in another room and sleep while we wait for the medicine to wear off. Then you can eat.”

Cleve suddenly was drooling. Eating was the most wonderful concept he’d ever heard. “I want food now.”

“Only after you sleep will we feed you.”

Cleve whined.

“If you don’t want me to be upset again, you’ll do what I ask.”