Hostage (35 page)

“I… don’t know. It feels… hard. I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of? You know how he feels. You know how you feel. Where’s the problem?”

“I don’t know. I just….” He sighed deeply and leaned back his head. “I wish I could go outside, just for a minute, to clear my head.”

“I know, hon, and I’m sorry, but that really wouldn’t be a good idea right now.”

“No. But I… I just can’t think.”

“What is there to think about? You don’t even have to talk.”

“I don’t?”

“Use your imagination.”

Coloring, Astrin turned his face away. “I can’t… not here.”

“There is another room.”

Astrin’s face twisted in an agony of indecision. “I can’t think.”

“I’m sorry, hon. I shouldn’t push you. This is something you have to come to in your own time. Try not to dwell too much on it. When the time is right, you’ll know.”

“I hope so. I just feel so tired… and it’s all swirling around in my head all the time. I can’t focus anymore, and my head hurts so much. If I could only get some fresh air.”

“Astrin, honey, can you look at me for a minute?”

Surprised, he complied.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing… nothing at all. I just think you’re exhausted and nothing much makes sense right now. Why don’t you lie down for a while? Perhaps your father can do something to calm your headache.”

“That would be good, but he’s busy. He’s always so busy.”

“Busy?” Neive laughed. “He’s bored out of his mind.” Astrin nodded, wincing since the movement hurt. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you sorted out.”

Astrin followed meekly as she led him up the stairs. He was surprised by how shaky he felt. Gods, he was letting this get to him way too much. He was going to have to talk to Rowan. Today. As soon as his father had fixed his head and he was feeling better.

Neive was right—it was good to stretch out on the bed and feel the cool cotton under his cheek. Neive stroked his hair, and he smiled at her.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart? You look so tired. Don’t let all this wear you out. You need to take care of yourself.”

“I know. I know I’ve been pushing myself too hard. I suppose now that I’ve stopped, everything’s catching up with me.”

“As it always does. Close your eyes for a few minutes, and I’ll go get your father. I’m sure he’ll have you back on your feet in no time, but there is no substitute for rest and sleep—not even excellent healing.”

“I suppose not.”

R
OWAN
WAS
curious when Astrin disappeared with Neive. He had an idea she was “having a talk” with him, which made him half-hopeful, half-fearful.

When Neive came back very soon afterward, he watched uneasily as she drew Hersten aside and spoke to him in a low voice. When both of them disappeared, his stomach turned over. Something was wrong. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. Something was wrong with Astrin.

Putting his plate down on the table, he followed Neive and Hersten out of the room and upstairs. Neive intercepted him at the door and guided him out, closing it. He tried to look past her, but she wouldn’t let him.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with Astrin?”

Hearing the note of panic in his voice, Neive reassured him. “Calm down, Rowan. Nothing’s wrong. He’s feeling a little under the weather, that’s all. His father will fix it, and he’ll be fine.” She smiled. “I think there’s something he wants to talk to you about.”

Again Rowan’s heart did that little skip as he stared at her anxiously. “What did he say?”

“I can’t talk about that, Rowan. It wouldn’t be fair. What Astrin has to say is between the two of you and really has nothing to do with me.”

Impulsively Rowan hugged her. “I think it does. I think it has everything to do with you, and you’ll never know how grateful I am.”

“Wait until after you’ve had that talk before you thank me for anything.”

Rowan nodded, still grinning.

“Why don’t you go back downstairs? You can come up when they’re done. Or maybe Astrin will come down.”

“No, I want to stay here, be close.”

“He’s all right, Rowan.” She looked at him gravely.

“I’m not stupid, Neive.”

“No. No you’re not. Wait, then. Wait with me and we’ll see.”

Rowan gave her an uneasy look but said nothing. He leaned against the banister and listened to the silence.

Before too long the door opened and Hersten came out, closing it behind him. His face was pale and drawn. He glanced at Rowan, then nodded to Neive.

“You were right.”

“How…?” She also glanced at Rowan. “Maybe you should go and have that talk with Astrin now.”

Rowan narrowed his eyes and glancing from one to the other. “Is he better?” He stared Hersten directly in the eyes, knowing instinctively the man would be unable to lie to him. Hersten turned away without answering.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, Rowan, nothing’s going on. We just have… things to discuss. Go and sit with Astrin.”

“Not until I know what’s happening. You’re frightening me now.” He turned to Neive this time. “You know how I feel about him. If something’s wrong, you have to tell me…. I understand maybe you don’t want to talk to him about it, but I need to know.”

Hersten and Neive exchanged glances. Hersten shrugged, and Neive put her hands on Rowan’s shoulders.

“Rowan, you’re a strong man and a brave one. That much you’ve made obvious. I think you’re going to have to be brave for a while longer.” Rowan’s eyes widened as he swallowed the fear that was building in the pit of his stomach.

“What is it? What’s wrong with Astrin?”

“I’ve been watching him, Rowan, and I knew something wasn’t right. When I was talking to him, his eyes…. I know Strebo Michael, I know his style, and I was concerned the knife may have been poisoned.”

“Poison?” Rowan’s eyes went wide. His heart stuttered and almost choked him. He forced pleading words past the obstruction. “But you would have seen it. When you healed him yesterday—you would have seen it.”

“I wasn’t looking for it. It was a desperate situation, and I was in a hurry. I healed the wound, that’s all. I didn’t think to look for anything else.”

“And today you did?”

Hersten nodded, then closed his eyes and turned his head away as if by blocking out their faces he could, for a moment, shut out reality. Then he squared his shoulders.

“Yes, today I did.”

“And… and was it…? Was it there…?”

“Yes.”

“But you can fix it, right? You can heal him?”

“No, Rowan. I’m sorry, I can’t. I tried but… I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve healed so many people over so many years, and I have dealt with thousands of cases of poisoning, but I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s like a thick, dark cloud that’s obscuring him. I can’t get anywhere near. It’s shutting me out… and shutting him down. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ve seen things like this before,” Neive said softly. “I told you, Strebo has his own laboratories and he’s been working on weapons and poisons that not only attack the body but affect the abilities too. We’ve had many cases like this before.”

“Then you know how to treat it?”

“Sometimes. It depends, to some degree, on the subject. The poison acts on the mind too. If the subject is strong enough, they can sometimes fight it. And we’ve been working on treatments. Depending on the poison, there are things we can try.”

“But?”

“But it’s only fair you should know that the poison is mostly fatal.”

Rowan felt as if a hammer had hit him in the chest, and he staggered back against the banister. It creaked, and it looked as though he might fall through. Neive grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Rowan… this is why I was reluctant to tell you. Listen. I repeat, a big factor in whether Astrin lives or dies is his mental attitude. That’s why I think it’s better not to tell him there’s anything wrong at the moment. You can’t let him see you fall apart, Rowan. You have to keep him positive. He has to fight this himself.”

“Is there nothing you can do? Are you just going to let him do this all alone?”

“Of course not. For one thing, he’s not alone. We’re all here with him, supporting him. For another, yes there may be something I can do. I know someone who’s been working on countering these poisons. I’ll take the knife to him. There’s bound to still be traces of the poison on the blade. Perhaps he’ll be able to help.”

“Perhaps?”

Neive squeezed Rowan’s arm. “Be strong, Rowan. You need to be strong now—more than you ever have before. Hold on with everything you have. You’re his best hope. Make him happy, make him sad, make him angry… make him
feel
. The stronger his emotions, the firmer his grip on life. Above all, you must stop him from being afraid. If he loses himself to fear, he will be lost and will never find his way home.”

“This is too much. It’s all been too much. I… I don’t know what to do.”

“Come speak with your uncle. Let him calm you.”

“No. No, I don’t want to speak to anyone… only Astrin.”

“Then do it, but be careful. Don’t scare him, Rowan. Don’t tell him.”

“No, I won’t. Not that.”

Neive patted his shoulder. “That’s a good boy. That’s right. Use that.”

“Use it?” He shook his head, looking disgusted. “No.”

“We all do what we have to do, Rowan. Now I must go. Time is of the essence.” She turned to Hersten. “Where’s the knife?”

“Charles has it. I couldn’t bear to be near the thing.” He seemed exhausted and ran his hand through already tousled hair. “Somewhere deep inside I knew. If I’d been thinking clearly, if I’d wondered why the thing repulsed me so much… I should have known.” He rubbed his face with his hands. Neive gazed at him with an expression of deep sympathy.

“It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

“But there would have been more time. We would have had more time.”

“There’s time. There’s hope. Come on.”

Taking him by the arm, she led him down the stairs, casting a glance at Rowan over her shoulder. He stared after her, stunned, his heart and soul in turmoil.

D
ECLINE

P
AUSING
WITH
his hand on the door, Rowan couldn’t bring himself to enter. What would he find? How could he stop the anguish and fear showing in his eyes? How could he not hold Astrin close and weep into his hair? How could he look him in the eyes and not fall apart? The
how
was the difficult part… the
why
was easy—because he loved him.

Bracing himself, he opened the door and walked in. Astrin was lying on the bed with his eyes closed, but when he heard the door, he opened them. He saw it was Rowan and turned over on his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

Rowan forced himself to smile. “Neive said you wanted to talk to me.”

Astrin’s eyes widened. “Oh she did, did she? That woman’s an interfering old bat.”

Rowan laughed aloud. “I’d love to hear you say that to her face.”

Astrin laughed. “Maybe not.”

“So….” He sat down on the next bed, barely two feet away. Astrin dropped his eyes and began to trace the pattern woven into the sleeping bag. Rowan sat quietly, waiting. His calm exterior covered emotions that were more chaotic than ever.

Apart from being a little pale, Astrin was exactly the same. It was so hard to believe there was anything wrong. Maybe they were mistaken
.
Rowan sighed inwardly, realizing the folly of that train of thought before he even got on board. There was no way Neive would have said anything if there was the slightest chance she was wrong, and Astrin’s father had confirmed it.

Maybe it wouldn’t turn out like they thought. Astrin was strong, the strongest person he knew—except perhaps for his Uncle Charles—in mind as well as body. No, better to stop thinking like that and just take things as they came. His job was to keep Astrin occupied, keep him positive, keep his mind off whatever was going on inside him.

“Astrin, if you don’t want to, if you’re not ready, I understand. I told you I don’t expect anything from you and if… if you’re going to explain all the reasons why you can only be my friend, or even that you don’t want to be my friend anymore, I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“No,” Astrin said carefully. “No, it isn’t that. It isn’t any of that.” He took a steadying breath. “The truth is that… it’s that I don’t know what the truth is. Neive shouldn’t have said anything to you. She knows I’m not ready, that I don’t… know.”

“Don’t know what?” Rowan asked softly.

“Don’t know how I feel.” Astrin stopped and frowned, biting his lip in a way Rowan found almost irresistible. “No, that’s not right. I know how I feel. It’s just that I don’t know how I feel… about how I feel.”

“Okay,” Rowan said carefully. “Why don’t you try telling me how you feel, and then maybe we can work out how you feel about it?”

Astrin’s lips twitched. “It sounds absurd, doesn’t it, but it’s crucifying me. It’s giving me a bitch of a headache, and I suppose Neive’s right. I do have to talk about this, or it’s going make me explode.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea. I mean think about those who’d have to clean up the mess… probably me.”

The twitch became a real smile. “You always make me smile.”

“Not always,” Rowan said.

“No. Not always but… no one, no matter how close they are, can make each other happy all the time… and they shouldn’t.”

“So,” Rowan pressed, “how close are we?”

Astrin swallowed hard and averted his eyes. “Um… close.”

“Is it okay if I sit over there with you? I won’t touch you, I promise.”

Astrin seemed surprised; Rowan wasn’t sure why. For a moment Astrin just stared; then he nodded slowly, shifting over so there was room on the bed. It creaked when Rowan sat down.

“How do you feel now?”

“Scared.” That much was obvious from his eyes and how fast he was breathing.