The Spirit Keeper (22 page)

“David.” I put my hand to my throat, surprised at how husky my voice sounded. I tried clearing it to see if that would help. “How long have you been sitting there?”

David’s body snapped to attention. He swiveled to me, and his face flooded with what could only be described as relief. “She’s awake! Meg, hurry up!”

Meg came rushing into my room holding a steaming basin of some lemon-scented liquid. She placed the basin on the nightstand and shooed David off the bed with a wave of her hand. Then she ripped the sheet from my body in one swift movement and, before I could even complain, began mopping my skin with a cloth she’d wrung from the lemony broth.

I tried to shove Meg’s hands away—the liquid felt too cold against my skin, despite the steam—but I didn’t have the energy to move. My teeth clacked together until I thought they’d crumble from my mouth, and my muscles spasmed, sending waves of wracking pain throughout my entire body.

Meg spared a glance at David. “Check the tea. It’s nearly ready.”

It was then that I caught a glimpse of the purple smudges under Meg’s eyes and the way her hair was pulling free from her usually tidy braid. I wondered how long I’d been out of it.

“He’s worried about you,” Meg said, inclining her head in David’s direction as he left the room. She dipped the cloth in the basin, wrung it out, and ran it over my cheeks and forehead. “We both are.”

I closed my eyes, and my throat ached with unshed tears. I fought to take an adequate lungful of air, but my chest felt suddenly heavy. I knew it was because of the guilt I carried for causing their worry. How would my aunt react when she found out I wasn’t merely sick with a virus but suffering from something a lot worse?

“You were crying out in your sleep,” Meg said. “Something about fire. Must be how hot you are. Your temperature’s high.”

“Oh,” I said. I closed my eyes, unable to remember the details of what I’d been dreaming. Had I been dreaming of Shyla again, or maybe the wolf?

“You were thrashing a lot, too,” Meg continued. “It took forever for you to settle down. And your fever.” She shook her head, her forehead creasing. “It’s erratic. It spikes and then goes back down, and then it spikes again. If this keeps up, I’m taking you to see Dr. Benton. I’ve already called him, and he said to keep an eye on it. I’m supposed to call in an hour with a report.”

David came in with the tea then, holding out the cup to me. “Elder flower. Take a drink.”

I shook my head slowly from side to side, refusing the drink with a feeble wave of the hand. “No. I don’t want any.”

“Can you stomach something stronger?” Meg said. She must have been really worried if she was suggesting something other than what she’d grown and prepared with her own two hands.

I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath. There was no holding back now; I had to come clean. I had to tell them the truth. “Medicine won’t do any good.”

“It will,” Meg said. “I’ll get you some now.” She made a move to get up, but I grabbed her arm.

“I think I’m dying,” I said. I could feel the internal temperature of my body creeping up even as I spoke, threatening to destroy my vital organs cell by tiny cell. How much longer did I have until the end came? A day, maybe two?

Meg stared at me for a moment before breaking out in hysterical laughter. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve got a virus of some sort. Dr. Benton said so.” She patted my hand. “You’re
not
dying.” 

“I
am
,” I insisted. “You and David were right all along. Shyla—”

“What about Shyla?” David cut in, his voice suddenly gruff. The doorbell rang then, and he glared at me before storming off, muttering something under his breath that I couldn’t quite hear.

Meg collapsed on the bed next to me, shaking her head. “Please don’t tell me Shyla had anything to do with this, Sarah.”  

Before I could answer, David came back with Adrian following closely behind. “He has something he wants to tell us,” he said.

He moved to the side to allow Adrian to enter, though he stood no more than a few feet away, staring down his nose with a look of intimidation. I wondered how David would react if he knew Adrian had sneaked in through my window in the middle of the night.

Adrian shifted from one foot to the other and spoke only to Meg, most likely assuming she was the lesser of the two evils. “I know I’m not welcome here,” he said, “but I needed to find out how Sarah was this morning. I needed to make sure she was okay.”

Meg narrowed her eyes as they traveled over Adrian’s wrinkled clothes and uncombed hair. His face was covered in dark stubble, and he smelled of dried sweat. He looked like he’d been awake all night.

“How did you know that there was anything wrong with Sarah?” she said.

Adrian glanced back at David before turning to Meg again, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Because I was with her at the creek yesterday when Shyla attacked her, and then last night I climbed through Sarah’s window when I suspected she might be in danger. I had to find out for sure.”

“You did
what?
” David bellowed.

Meg and David reacted just like I expected they would. Meg couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry or yell, and David just yelled.

“Oh, Sarah,” Meg said, her face in her hands. “What have you done?”

“I should have you arrested!” David said, further making his point by poking Adrian repeatedly in the chest with his finger. He turned on me then. “We
trusted
you! How long have you been sneaking around behind our backs?”

Meg sat still as stone, a look of resignation on her face. “Does it really matter now?” She looked up at David, tears in her eyes. He stared back, incredulous. “What’s done is done,” she said. “All we can do now is figure out what to do.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. Meg waved away my apology, not meeting my eyes. If Shyla’s magic didn’t kill me, the disappointment in Meg’s face would.

She squared her shoulders and wiped the tears from her face before turning to Adrian. “Where is Shyla now? We have to get her to undo whatever magic she’s done.”

“I d-don’t know,” Adrian stammered. “Gran and I—”

“Imogene?” Meg interrupted, bolting to her feet. “Of course! Does she know where Shyla is?”

Adrian shook his head. “I talked to Gran this morning. Shyla left a note saying she was staying the night with a friend from work, but I doubt that’s true. Shyla’s pretty much a loner.”

“Why would Shyla help Sarah?” David said, still fuming. “After what she’s already done to this family . . .
the fire
.”

“She said she didn’t start that fire!” Adrian said. But there was not one person in the room who seemed convinced of it. Not even Adrian.

David’s face flushed red. “She has no reason to help Sarah.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to do,” I said, sick of their loud arguing.

No one said a word as they all silently considered the possibility that my life was slowly coming to an end. Though half my family had been taken away from me at such an early age, I’d never really considered my own mortality. But when I considered how close to death I felt now, the prospect was terrifying.

All of a sudden a searing heat tore at the core of my insides, making me cry out. And even though I felt the vibrations of the sound in my chest and throat, I couldn’t hear anything above the rushing of blood in my ears. I looked from David to Meg to Adrian, each of them with fear bright in their eyes. They began frantically talking and gesturing, and yet their voices remained silent to me.

Meg grabbed the thermometer and thrust it in my ear, and I witnessed the horror on her face as I read her lips: one-oh-six point five!

I screamed again as a lightning bolt of pain ripped at my insides, plunging me into darkness.

My eyes fluttered open.

An elongated triangle of light spilled into my room from the hallway, its apex touching my hand where it lay clenched on my chest. Although I knew from the darkness outside the window that it was late, I wasn’t sure if it was middle-of-the-night dark or the quiet calm of pre-dawn morning.

I shifted uneasily in bed, and my eyes came to rest on a dark lump curled on the floor—Meg. David was asleep at the desk, his body hunched over at the middle in what had to be a very uncomfortable position. I watched his back rise and fall as he slept.

I gingerly pushed the covers aside and managed to pull myself into a sitting position with effort. My dry, chapped lips twisted into a grimace as the pain in my head and joints exploded. I took a deep, steadying breath and wondered when was the last time I’d used the bathroom or had anything to eat. Did basic necessities even matter when you were on Death’s doorstep, or did you simply succumb to the inevitable and wither away in bed? My stomach tightened and growled at the thought of food, though, and I realized I had no desire to starve to death. 

Carefully, I swung first one leg over the edge of the bed and then the other. The room started to spin, and I curled my toes into the plush fibers of the carpet underfoot, concentrating on its softness as I waited for the spinning to stop. But when I finally managed to stand, the blood drained from my head at once as though I’d sprung an internal leak. Darkness closed in on me, and I sat heavily on the bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” David hissed in my ear.

He wrapped his arm around my waist, his voice sounding distant and hollow. I took a deep breath to increase the oxygen to my brain, willing the black spots to recede from the edges of my vision.

“I thought you were asleep,” I whispered, trying not to wake Meg.

“Just resting my eyes. What do you think you’re doing?” he asked again.

“I’m starving,” I said. “I’m going to the kitchen to make a sandwich.”

David shook his head. “No you’re not. Get back in bed and I’ll make one for you.”

I hesitated, though there was really no way around it. “I have to pee, too.”

David cast a longing look at Meg, clearly out of his comfort zone on that one. “Do you want me to wake her up?”

I shook my head, flinching at the pain even that one small movement caused. “If you can get me to the bathroom, I can handle the rest.”

David nodded and looked visibly relieved. He wrapped my arm around his shoulder and hoisted me to my feet. Slowly, and with a fair amount of stumbling, we made it out the door and down the hallway.

A thought occurred to me then, and yet I was almost too afraid to voice it. It seemed ages ago that Adrian had been there in my room, and maybe I’d only been dreaming. “Where’s Adrian?”

At the mention of Adrian’s name, David’s shoulders went rigid underneath my arm. “He’s gone. He and his grandmother are trying to find Shyla. She’s still not answering her cell.”

I refused to get my hopes up for some miracle cure. To be honest, I didn’t want Shyla to come anywhere near me ever again, even if there was a possibility that she could reverse whatever voodoo magic she’d inflicted on me. I’d rather take my chances with Meg’s herbs and a little bit of conventional medicine.

When we finally reached the bathroom, David leveled his gaze at me. “We were so scared, Sarah. When you blacked out, we realized we had no choice but to rely on whatever Adrian could do to help.”

“But you still don’t trust him,” I said, picking up on David’s unvoiced thoughts.

David’s mouth was pressed in a hard line, making him look much older than he was. “He’s got a lot to prove before I trust him.”

Then, making sure I was stable on my feet before letting go, he turned for the kitchen without another word.

Alone in the bathroom, I leaned against the counter for support and to gather my strength. My legs were trembling with the effort of standing, and my breath was coming out in small pants and grunts as I fought against the rhythmic pounding in my head. I looked into the mirror then, and what I saw made my stomach plummet.