Chapter 7 #3
Salem pressed the back of his hand to Aurin’s forehead anyway.
He was hot. Damp. And beneath the blankets, Aurin shifted restlessly as if he was struggling to hold a stable human form.
Then there had been the involuntary shifting—fingertips briefly webbing, patches of iridescent skin flashing along his ribs before disappearing again.
Aurin groaned. “Everything aches.”
“I know.” Salem sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “You scare me when you are this unwell.”
That was putting it mildly. Cephamorphs were rarely unwell. Usually it was the human form that suffered, as was the case with Aurin now.
Salem lingered, watching, monitoring, and waiting for Kellan to arrive. Which wasn’t happening fast enough, Salem thought, growing impatient.
“Stop sighing,” Aurin said faintly.
Salem put the back of his hand to Aurin’s forehead again before quickly replacing it with a damp washcloth.
Aurin, of course, pushed his hand away and curled tighter beneath the blankets. “You keep staring at me.”
“Because I’m worried about you.”
“You’re hovering.”
“Yes,” Salem said immediately. “I am. And I’m not leaving.”
That earned the faintest huff of laughter.
For a moment, the only sound was the wind outside and the water lapping at the pylons below. Aurin’s breathing had gone uneven again. His hand drifted unconsciously toward his abdomen.
Salem noticed. “Does it hurt there?”
“…Kind of.”
“Sharp pain?”
“No. Just…” Aurin frowned, searching for words. “Pressure? Weird cramping. Like whatever I ate doesn’t agree with me at all.” He made a face etched with pain and distaste. “Blergh.”
Salem went very still.
This wasn’t good. Something was very wrong. Cephamorphs didn’t get sick...
“Oh, don’t make that face,” Aurin muttered, barely opening his eyes.
“What face?”
“The terrified one.”
“I’m not terrified.”
“You look like you’re about to flee.”
“Never,” Salem whispered as he brushed Aurin’s hair off his forehead just as there was a soft knock at the door.
Kellan entered carrying his medical bag and wearing a sympathetic expression. He was in doctor mode and entirely unflappable, which Salem appreciated because someone in this room needed to remain sane.
“How is the patient?” he asked, then answered his own question. “Not great, I can see.”
“He has abdominal pain,” Salem said. “Perhaps it is appendicitis. Or his spleen. He’s running a fever, and he’s very stubborn—”
“Okay,” Kellan said as he gave Salem a pat on the arm, but there was concern in his eyes as he studied Aurin. He sat on the side of the bed and stuck a thermometer in Aurin’s mouth, then pressed his fingers to Aurin’s wrist.
“I’ll be fine,” Aurin mumbled around the thermometer.
Kellan took it out and read it. “You’re not fine. You have a temperature and your heart rates are elevated.”
Aurin groaned and tried to sit up. “I have things to do today. I have to get my things to set up this house. I need to get this place ready.”
Kellan gently pushed him back down. “Ready for what?”
“I don’t know. For us. Ready for us. I need to... I need to make it ours. I need to make it cozy and safe.”
Kellan glanced at Salem before pulling the blanket down. “I’m going to feel your abdomen, okay?”
Aurin grumbled and relented, wincing as Kellan pressed, and he shimmered as if his freeform was fighting to win.
Salem noticed Dylan and Hendrix were at the door then, looking at Aurin, worried. “Is he okay?” Dylan asked quietly.
Kellan stood up, his expression grim as he met Salem’s eyes. “He needs to get in the water, now.”
“Wh-why?” Salem was confused. “What’s wrong with him?”
“If it is what I think it is, he needs to be in freeform, right now.”
Panic seeped into Salem’s bones, cold and awful. “Kellan, you’re scaring me.”
“Help me get him up,” Kellan said, taking Aurin’s arm, but Salem simply scooped Aurin up into his arms. “Into the water,” Kellan said, unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ll follow you in.”
Aurin moaned in pain, and Salem didn’t stop to ask any more questions.
He simply carried Aurin out the door, stepped onto the pier, and into the water.
Salem morphed immediately, but Aurin seemed to struggle, his abdomen distending somewhat painfully before he finally managed to take his cephamorph form.
Salem wrapped all his arms around him, holding him gently. I’ve got you. You’re okay.
Aurin relaxed, and they sank down to the floor of the cove, and barely a second later, Kellan rocketed down to meet them.
Aurin, do you feel better in this form?
He took a moment to answer. Yes, I think so.
Any pain? Discomfort? Nausea?
He paused another moment, as if taking stock of his body. I don’t know. I feel... weird.
Kellan, please, Salem demanded. If you know what’s wrong with him, you must do something.
Kellan looked at them both and smiled. Well, the good news is that Aurin is not dying.
That’s comforting, Aurin mumbled.
Salem held Aurin a little tighter, laser focused on Kellan. Then what’s wrong? You can fix him, yes? This is treatable? Does he require surgery? How do we even prepare—
Kellan put a reassuring tentacle on Salem’s, and glanced between them, pausing as if trying to determine how best to phrase what he had to say. So, uh... How familiar are you both with cephamorphic reproductive cycles?