39th Winter
515AV
515AV
“We should leave, ma. I’m fine, really.”
But Ife’s words were immediately followed by a sharp inhalation. She gripped her stomach desperately as bile, acid and all manner of other things surged up into her throat. The redhead wretched, but managed to control her gag reflexes just enough to avoid vomiting all over the River Flower. The old Drykas male to her side gave her a shifty look and slid away from her nervously.
“You are not well, Ife.” Mia Windstride scolded, pushing the red strands of hair out of her youngest daughter’s face. “You’re pale and you’ve lost a worrying amount of weight.”
“Because I have the flu and can’t keep anything down.” Ife retorted flatly, in no real mood to debate with her mother. Though she felt terrible – a combination of uncontrollably ravenous and painfully nauseous – she was adamant that her case of flu, however miserable it made her feel, was not serious enough to warrant a trip to the River Flower. “I’ll be fine as long as I keep warm and drink plenty of water. It’s just the flu.”
But Mia was even more insistent than her daughter. A mere six days had passed since her youngest son had been snatched in the early bells of the morning. Breet Windstride had been one of many of the stolen, his absence leaving a cavernous hole in the lives of those who loved him. Even the thought of her handsome, headstrong boy made Mia gasp with heartbreak and reach out for her other children. The other three were all blessedly safe – yet Ife’s health concerned the Drykas woman to no end.
Ife winced as she saw her mother’s expression change from adamant to distraught. Breet. The thought of her brother made Ife clutch at her stomach yet again, but this time it was to stop herself from sobbing rather than vomiting. If it eased her mother’s agony, she would get herself checked out with further argument. The Windstride family was fractured, but not yet broken. And Ife would do all she could to ensure that they stayed whole.
“How’s little Brazen doing?” She asked, wiping her eyes to remove all traces of the tears that had been threatening her eyes. The mention of her newborn nephew, born late last season, was enough to make both women smile faintly.
“Oh, he’s the most handsome little man you’ve ever seen. He’s started sleeping better now, as well. He eve—“
Mia Windstride’s words were cut in two. She turned towards the entrance to the River Flower, where a calamity of loud voices seemed to be making their way towards them. Ife’s heart leapt to her throat: was it happening again? Had people come to steal more of her family?
But no: two men appeared at the entrance of the medical pavilion, one either side of a woman who was limp in their arms. “Please!” One of them begged, shuffling into the tent and pushing other bewildered patients out of their way, “she fell through the ice! She was in for only a moment but she’s already so cold. Please!”
Their begging did not go unanswered. A harried-looking medical nurse approached the pair of men and ordered that they place the woman on a spare bed. “We will do what we can,” she said, her tone gentle but brisk. Her hands swept through the air, indicating to the growing crowds of patients that were either already being treated, or waiting to be seen. “but as you can see, we’re incredibly busy.”
“We can help!”
It took Ife far longer than it should have done for her to realise that it was her own mother speaking. What was she doing? Neither Ife or her mother had any official medical training, and Ife at the moment couldn’t even stomach the thought of food, let alone seeing any real blood or gruesome injury.
But here Mia was, hauling her sick daughter to her feet and pushing Ife towards the shivering woman. She should have been horrified, but in truth Ife found herself marvelling at her mother’s selflessness. At times such as these, when the worse of the worse has happened, it was people like Mia Windstride who bought people back together. “Just tell us what to do and we’ll do it. We’ll do our best.”
The nurse glanced from Ife to Mia, clearly calculating the risks associated with letting two random women loose of a half-frozen patient. Evidently, she decided that any help was better than none, so she nodded and explained: “Very well. First, I want you to wrap her in blankets. Keep her warm at all times. Then investigate her body for any sign of injury, especially around the head. Keep her warm, remember. Come see me when you’ve done that and we’ll go from there.” Glancing to the rest of the patients, she said, “if anyone else would like to offer help, come and see me. Any and all volunteers are appreciated.”
“Mother, what have you gotten us into?” Ife breathed quietly to Mia. Suddenly she felt queasy for a whole different reason.
But Ife’s words were immediately followed by a sharp inhalation. She gripped her stomach desperately as bile, acid and all manner of other things surged up into her throat. The redhead wretched, but managed to control her gag reflexes just enough to avoid vomiting all over the River Flower. The old Drykas male to her side gave her a shifty look and slid away from her nervously.
“You are not well, Ife.” Mia Windstride scolded, pushing the red strands of hair out of her youngest daughter’s face. “You’re pale and you’ve lost a worrying amount of weight.”
“Because I have the flu and can’t keep anything down.” Ife retorted flatly, in no real mood to debate with her mother. Though she felt terrible – a combination of uncontrollably ravenous and painfully nauseous – she was adamant that her case of flu, however miserable it made her feel, was not serious enough to warrant a trip to the River Flower. “I’ll be fine as long as I keep warm and drink plenty of water. It’s just the flu.”
But Mia was even more insistent than her daughter. A mere six days had passed since her youngest son had been snatched in the early bells of the morning. Breet Windstride had been one of many of the stolen, his absence leaving a cavernous hole in the lives of those who loved him. Even the thought of her handsome, headstrong boy made Mia gasp with heartbreak and reach out for her other children. The other three were all blessedly safe – yet Ife’s health concerned the Drykas woman to no end.
Ife winced as she saw her mother’s expression change from adamant to distraught. Breet. The thought of her brother made Ife clutch at her stomach yet again, but this time it was to stop herself from sobbing rather than vomiting. If it eased her mother’s agony, she would get herself checked out with further argument. The Windstride family was fractured, but not yet broken. And Ife would do all she could to ensure that they stayed whole.
“How’s little Brazen doing?” She asked, wiping her eyes to remove all traces of the tears that had been threatening her eyes. The mention of her newborn nephew, born late last season, was enough to make both women smile faintly.
“Oh, he’s the most handsome little man you’ve ever seen. He’s started sleeping better now, as well. He eve—“
Mia Windstride’s words were cut in two. She turned towards the entrance to the River Flower, where a calamity of loud voices seemed to be making their way towards them. Ife’s heart leapt to her throat: was it happening again? Had people come to steal more of her family?
But no: two men appeared at the entrance of the medical pavilion, one either side of a woman who was limp in their arms. “Please!” One of them begged, shuffling into the tent and pushing other bewildered patients out of their way, “she fell through the ice! She was in for only a moment but she’s already so cold. Please!”
Their begging did not go unanswered. A harried-looking medical nurse approached the pair of men and ordered that they place the woman on a spare bed. “We will do what we can,” she said, her tone gentle but brisk. Her hands swept through the air, indicating to the growing crowds of patients that were either already being treated, or waiting to be seen. “but as you can see, we’re incredibly busy.”
“We can help!”
It took Ife far longer than it should have done for her to realise that it was her own mother speaking. What was she doing? Neither Ife or her mother had any official medical training, and Ife at the moment couldn’t even stomach the thought of food, let alone seeing any real blood or gruesome injury.
But here Mia was, hauling her sick daughter to her feet and pushing Ife towards the shivering woman. She should have been horrified, but in truth Ife found herself marvelling at her mother’s selflessness. At times such as these, when the worse of the worse has happened, it was people like Mia Windstride who bought people back together. “Just tell us what to do and we’ll do it. We’ll do our best.”
The nurse glanced from Ife to Mia, clearly calculating the risks associated with letting two random women loose of a half-frozen patient. Evidently, she decided that any help was better than none, so she nodded and explained: “Very well. First, I want you to wrap her in blankets. Keep her warm at all times. Then investigate her body for any sign of injury, especially around the head. Keep her warm, remember. Come see me when you’ve done that and we’ll go from there.” Glancing to the rest of the patients, she said, “if anyone else would like to offer help, come and see me. Any and all volunteers are appreciated.”
“Mother, what have you gotten us into?” Ife breathed quietly to Mia. Suddenly she felt queasy for a whole different reason.
