Chapter 14 #3
“Lucky we ended up near this,” Alina said cheerfully. “Making a fire without proper fuel would have been too great a tax on my resources, probably, once the shield is up as well.”
“No shield,” Xavier kept the words brief, given his last meal was trying to escape along with them. “Just the fire.”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Alina said soothingly. “I won’t overdo it.”
Xavier groaned, wishing he had the ability to stop her. But he could barely move.
“Don’t tell Theo and Mim about this,” he murmured.
Alina laughed. “Poor, charming, capable, much-admired Crown Prince Xavier. It’s quite a blow to the pride, falling afoul of an alicanto and a basilisk in the same day.”
He kept his eyes squeezed shut, so had no warning before he felt her leg against his back and her hand on his forehead again.
“I shouldn’t laugh,” Alina said repentantly. “I really am sorry for how you must be feeling. It’s just…a basilisk, Xavier?”
“I know,” Xavier sighed. “Even children know better than to look right at a sand-colored snake.”
“On the bright side,” she said cheerfully, “you’re probably feeling so sick in your stomach that you won’t regret the lack of any food tonight.”
He opened one eye, peering up at where she’d settled herself behind him on the sand. “But you will,” he said. “I wish I had something with me.”
“I’ll be fine,” Alina assured him. “I’m used to more meager fare than your royal self.”
That didn’t comfort Xavier at all, but he didn’t have strength to fight. He felt horribly weak, and his throat was burning.
“We didn’t even bring water,” he murmured.
“You’re parched,” Alina realized. She brightened. “But we do have water! Zuzu!”
“No,” moaned Xavier. “I don’t want to drink cat-bird water.”
“Don’t be silly,” Alina scolded him. “It’s perfectly clean.”
Xavier held out for another hour, but eventually his thirst got the better of him.
The anzu was absurdly proud of being asked to produce water, and although he complained that it had fur in it, it was only for effect.
In fact, it was cool and fresh, and tasted cleaner than any water he’d ever drunk.
Alina had become quiet, and with an effort, Xavier roused himself enough to squint up at her face.
Darkness surrounded them, only the dancing light of the fire revealing her features.
She looked other-worldly, perfect. Like the heartbroken dreams his young self had held about her, come to life just to torment him.
“Are you all right?” he murmured.
“Of course,” she said.
The words lacked her usual energy, and his brow furrowed as he studied her further.
“You’re doing the shield, aren’t you?” Agitated, he tried to sit up, and her hands were on his shoulders at once.
“Lie down,” she told him. “You’ll make it worse if you move around.”
He wanted to fight, but he had no energy.
He let her guide him back down, not realizing until his pounding head was still that his cheek was now cushioned on her lap, not the sand.
He felt like he could lie there forever, until he died.
He would die content, at least. Sluggishly, he tried to recapture the thread of what he’d been protesting.
“This is wrong,” he said. “You’re lost in the desert because I dragged you into all this. I should be protecting you. I hate that I can’t even lift my sword to defend you if we’re attacked.”
“We won’t be attacked,” she said reassuringly.
“Because you’re draining your life away to do a shield.” There was too much passion in the words—his aching head protested against the exertion. He hated feeling so powerless.
“I’m not,” she promised. “Don’t worry about me, Xavier. I know my limits.”
“It’s too much energy,” he insisted. “At least tell me you’re using half the magic for your energy, like you’re supposed to.”
“I’m using enough,” she said, her voice alarmingly soft. Just how depleted was she already?
“Alina, please.” He knew the strength of his emotion was too revealing, but he couldn’t figure out how to protect himself, not when he was so sick and his thoughts so scattered.
“I can’t bear for something to happen to you.
I was a shell of myself when you left me last time, and you’d only moved away.
If you died, and it was because I was too weak to protect you—”
“Xavier.” She cut him off firmly. Her tone reminded him of how she’d spoken to him back when they were close. Like they were equals, not prince and subject. It calmed him more effectively than her words. “I swear to you, I’m in no danger. You can rest, there’s nothing to worry about.”
Xavier let out a soft sigh, but he knew he had little choice but to accept her words.
“You’ll stay with me, right?” he said, flinching at how pathetically weak his voice was coming out. “Don’t slip away.”
He laid a hand lightly on her knee, needing reassurance that they were still connected, and no magic would lure her off into the desert without him.
“Yes, I’ll stay,” Alina said. “I promise.”
Forever?
Fortunately, Xavier retained enough awareness—and enough pride—not to give voice to that last addled thought. His head pounding and his stomach cramped and tight, he somehow managed to escape into the merciful oblivion of sleep.