When Linnet's eyes did open again, she realized time must have passed. Her head was hot and the sheets were somewhat damp with the sweat from her form. She still felt rather miserable. She tried to fall asleep again, but her mind stayed stubbornly awake and aware of dull pain and warmth. Annoyed at this, Linnet decided the best use of her time would be to try to process things. It was hard to focus, but she managed for a time. In the end, all she really decided was that James was a soul-eater like Drake. Though perhaps somehow not like Drake in that the daemon seemed fine with the possibility of James killing her. She was not sure if James, with his looks so unlike Drake, was human, or even partially so. Still, from what James asserted, he thought there was a difference or wanted there to be. Finally, there was a time limit on her life. Presumably, Drake thought James would start to get hungry, and that hunger would not be beneficial to her.
After a couple more minutes of trying to sort through things, Linnet turned her attention to the object of the majority of her thoughts: James. He was dozing in the chair, his mouth opened slightly. The innocence on that sleeping face made her want to question everything she had just learned. Still, there was no going back from that now, no matter how much she might yearn to do so. After a moment more, she tried to get his attention.
"James?" Her voice came out as a husky whisper from a throat that felt bone dry. She worked around what little saliva was in her mouth and tried again, managing to be only slightly louder.
"James?"
James had sat and watched Linnet for a while, her face tired even in sleep, but eventually his head dropped onto his chest and he drifted off. His dreams wandered, circling over each other in confusing spirals, but the first time Linnet called his name it pulled him halfway out of his sleep. Then she said his name again, a bit louder, and he jerked upright, snuffling a bit as he closed his mouth and reoriented himself. He scrubbed at an eye as he slid off the chair and reached for the basin, dipping the cloth into the water to dab on her face. Her cheeks were patched with red, and her hair was sticking to her sweaty face. She didn't look too good. He brushed her hair out of her face and peered into her eyes as he wiped the sweat from her face.
James, being that he hadn't gotten sick in... many centuries, wasn't sure exactly what to do. He typically didn't deal with sick humans. So he tipped his head at her, though from the creaking sound of her voice, he didn't know if she could communicate any better than he could. But he was eager to seek forgiveness for what Drake had told her, to show her that he wouldn't hurt her.
Now that Drake was gone again, he was feeling bolder, though she seemed to be getting sicker. Anxiety reared its head in his belly. Everything was obviously not going to turn out fine. When did it? But he wasn't sure how exactly this would play out. He had a feeling, however, that he wasn't going to like the end to this act.
The way James jerked awake almost brought a smile to Linnet's features, but she could not quite manage it. He wet a cloth and dabbed it across her forehead, sending small waves of heavenly coolness over the feverish surface. The relief dissipated far too quickly. As he brushed her hair away from her face, she could not help the slight upturning at the corners of her lips. It was an almost automatic response to the concern in his eyes, though in reality she was far from being okay.
She wondered if she looked worse than she felt, or if she felt worse than she looked. The thought was oddly amusing and it was a moment before she realized James looked at a loss. She paused to figure out what she needed before speaking, though this time she did not sound as hoarse.
“Could ya 'elp me... sit up? I'll need wa'ah." She began trying to move herself, but winced as her various pains seemed to scream their disapproval.
James nodded at Linnet's request, withdrawing his arms against his chest as he considered how to approach the situation. Drake hadn't mentioned the extent of her injuries, but she had fallen off a roof, so he needed to be as gentle as possible with her. First thing was first though, he needed something to put behind her so she wouldn't fall back down. So he moved over to the armoire in the corner of the room and stood on his tip-toes to get the linens from the top shelf, then detangled an extra pillow from the mess and pushed the rest of it back onto a different shelf.
He set the pillow next to Linnet and gave her an apologetic look before anything else. He was sure that he would inadvertently hurt her by moving her, but there was no other option. With one arm he supported her back and slowly propped her up until he could slide the pillow against her back and resettle her, wincing sympathetically. Then it was to the water. He made a gesture for her to wait before darting off to the kitchen to find a cup and a pitcher for her, pulling some fresh water. He acted as quick as he could without spilling anything on himself, despite his persistent trembling, since his body hadn't quite finished regenerating all the blood he'd lost previously.
When he returned to Linnet's room, he poured her a cup and then set the pitcher down beside the small end table. He held the cup up for her, giving the opportunity to take it if she wanted to or if she could, before bringing it to her face so she could drink, careful to not spill it on her.
She stopped her movements, catching her breath as James moved off to grab a pillow from the wardrobe in the corner. His apologetic look as he set the pillow beside her allowed her enough time to brace herself and prepare to move. She clenched her jaw as he helped her up to keep from crying out with the massive twinge of pain. Her nausea returned as she leaned back against the pillow, and once again, she could not breathe deeply enough to dissipate it. Her breathing was shallow and fast as the pain slowly faded again, though the feeling of nausea was more persistent. James left the room for several minutes, and Linnet let out a small groan as she shifted to find a better position with some success. By the time James returned, her breathing was slightly better, though the water was very much welcome by then.
He held out the drink. Linnet tried to take it quickly, but withdrew her hand when the motion slightly pulled at her ribs. She did not realize that such a small movement could make her tense up, but it did. She would have to let James help her. The boy was ever so careful, as if scared of even the slightest movement hurting her, and she gulped the water thirstily. It was a soothing sensation, and she felt better, if only comparatively. After that glass was mostly drained, she carefully lifted her right hand and set it against James's hand, pushing it away a little.
She kept her hand there and looked away as she intoned, "I... I fink we should tawk, or well, I need ta' ask some questions?"
She looked up at him then, dropping her hand. A sad smile set over her features as she hoped to reassure him that she was not angry. Still, there was a distance to her look.
Her eyes dropped once more as she searched for words. Her fingers worried at the blanket for a moment before she looked up again.
"So, you... you eat souls laike Drake?" It almost sounded like a statement rather than a question, but she had to confirm that before moving on.
She watched James's face intently, wanting to find out more from his response than just the answer to the question.
James set the cup down, and glanced back at Linnet as she spoke, her voice somewhat stronger now. Talk? Well, she would ask questions. Hopefully he could properly pantomime clear answers. There was a moroseness to her expression that made him nod, casting his gaze downwards momentarily. No anger, but a hollowness that hadn't been there before. James pulled the chair closer to the bed so he faced Linnet well enough that she could see him without turning her head. And now it was her turn to lower her eyes. Was she thinking, or was she afraid to ask the question on her mind?
James fiddled with a button on his jacket, his teeth poking into his bottom lip nervously.
When she spoke, he tipped his head to one side, listening intently and thinking hard. Yes, he did eat souls, but it wasn't quite the same, and he wanted to make that distinction clear.
He wasn’t like Drake.
He lifted one shoulder for a moment, not quite a yes, not quite a no. Then he placed one hand on his throat and held the other one above his head, face upturned and mouth open, as if he was holding something, the way Drake liked to tease him. Then he dropped the higher hand, though the one at his throat stayed, unconsciously rubbing at the wound there.
He tilted his head to one side again, then, with some reluctance, nodded. It was true, he did eat souls. She deserved to know that.
At first, he gave her a half shrug in response. Linnet frowned a moment before realizing it wasn't the noncommittal shrug of a boy wanting to avoid a question. She wondered for a moment what he wanted to express, then realized it was likely that the answer wasn't simply a yes or no. He mimicked holding something over his open mouth yet kept one hand at the wound on his throat. Linnet was not sure what he meant, other than that the motion was meant to imitate eating a soul. He dropped his hand again and, after a hesitation, nodded. Basically, he did eat souls, but perhaps it was not simply 'eating souls like Drake.' Linnet figured that had to be the part that made this question require more than a yes or no. 'At least he's being honest, [color=#B57A5E]' she thought with a vague feeling of relief. If he had blatantly disagreed to the question, contradicting what she knew, she may not have even bothered continuing.
She went on in a considering tone, "[color=#B57A5E]You're not laike Drake, but I don' un'erstan' 'ow that is, or why."
The statement was not accusation, as though she thought he was lying, but merely uncertainty of how to proceed.
She paused for a tense moment, her head starting to pound unhappily, before bursting out with, "
Are you 'uman?" Something in his face made her amend, "
Or... weh you?" Her gaze dropped a fraction, jumping back to his face again when he moved to respond.
He couldn't tell how well she was understanding him, but the conversation was moving along, which was a good sign. Or at least, he thought it was? Her voice was not harsh, but he could sense her confusion. Could he even explain everything to her if he had full vocal faculties? Probably not. It was too complex, those small intricacies that made up his life, but that she, as a human, had probably never encountered before.
She paused a moment, and he let his other hand drop into his lap, wringing them together now. Then her question. Was he human? He screwed up his mouth to one side, it was another yes or no question that he couldn't answer either way. But then she made an addendum. Or was he? He brightened slightly, nodding and looking directly at her. He had been human. Technically, he still was, but the other factors at work masked his lingering mortality.
But this was a start, wasn't it?
His response was immediate and confirmed what she had thought. He was human at one time, even if he was somehow changed or more than human now. The thought made her feel odd, but she realized that oddness was more a physical sensation than a mental one. A wave of heat and queasiness washed over her; her vision swam and she closed her eyes, breathing shallowly but steadily. After a moment, the feeling mostly passed, though a general sense of malaise remained. She opened her eyes again, taking a moment to regather her thoughts. If James was once human, that meant something had changed him.
"
Did Drake do somefin' to you, then?" The thought was unsettling, especially if Drake had a way to change humans as well as consume their souls.
When Linnet shut her eyes, James moved to stand up, to wipe her forehead with the cloth again. Really, there wasn't much else he could do to help her, but then she opened her eyes again and slowly the boy sat back down. It was back to the questions again, though this one was simple, but also complex.
He wished he could talk, tell her exactly what had happened, that one memory from the far past that still stood out in full relief in his mind.
He nodded, then made the gesture again, holding one hand to his throat and the other above his head, trying to show her. He was also tempted to point at the empty space in his mouth, tell her that Drake had done that as well, but he didn't want to make his answer too complex, especially considering how pale she looked.
He answered in the affirmative to this question as well, and Linnet sighed. Though she had considered the nod enough of an answer for the question, James continued with the same motion he had done in reply to whether he ate souls. She was not sure whether he was just confirming that, yes, Drake did something and that is why he became a soul-eater, or whether he was saying eating souls had something to do with the transformation. Either way, she knew that Drake was somehow able to change humans. She was not sure if it was a matter of chance or something he could do at will, but the thought bothered her enough that she preferred not to know. Her emotions showed plainly as she thought, ranging from confusion to concern laced with fear. There was something almost guarded about her manner though, but it was difficult to tell if it was just a matter of fatigue.
It was an odd world she had been thrown into, one of death and souls. Previously, these topics were more abstract than real to her, but now they were at the forefront of every thought. It was no wonder she was constantly on edge. Her mind wandered over several questions before settling on the realization that there may be other things that changed about James than just the soul eating.
She settled on one of the more startling questions that came to her mind, "
Jus' 'ow long... Well, I suppose I should ask 'as it been long since it 'appened?"
Taken aback at the answer, she returned to her previous question without thinking, "
'Ow long?"
He could almost read her thoughts on her face and wondered how taxing these answers were for her. Of course, for him, these were the facts of life: one day he was human and the next he was...not. But for her, to be exposed to this in such a short time, but to still retain her humanity, he had to admit that he was a bit jealous. He wasn't sure if he could ever go back.
After living so long... seeing so much death...the idea of dying was now more terrifying than it had ever been in the short duration of his true lifespan.
After all, something like him wouldn't have much of an afterlife, right?
Her next question followed along his thoughts, funnily enough. Perhaps that was just a common question? He heaved a sigh, his eyes tired for a moment as he nodded. A long time. Longer than he could count, since many of his memories were lost to the slow passage of time. But how long? How long?
James chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. He didn't rightly know. He didn't even remember what age he'd been when he...well... when the rest of his family had died. So he just held his hands apart, even with his shoulders, then widened them a bit more. A very long time.
She had always thought of James as a boy, though one not much younger than she. Despite this death game, there was something unintimidating about him. She hardly felt threatened by his actions, which would have been odd even in her everyday life. People either seemed loud and aggressive toward her, or annoyed and suspicious of her. Part of that, of course, was the bad luck that seemed to follow her, brought on in large part by her clumsy and skittish ways. The other part was the superstition, which was surprisingly common among the lower class, about the unnatural coloring of her eyes. A kind word or gesture had been a rare occurrence in her life.
It seemed obvious from his motion that it had been a long time, though that could be relative, but she got the feeling it was more than that. There was something old and jaded in his gaze that she had never seen as old and jaded until now. It was an interesting thought and she felt embarrassed at how much she had just assumed. Of course, there was little basis for anything but assumption at first, but she had the feeling that she had missed understanding a lot of things. Her mind whirled with it, which did not help with her more physical feelings of illness and pain.
There was so much to take in that she felt overwhelmed. A niggling feeling of doubt rested at the back of her mind, ever present, questioning why she should believe any of this. On the other hand, James seemed so earnest that she could not imagine him or Drake making this up. It was all too bizarre, and fit too well with what she had observed to be a mere lie. To pull something like that off, both James and Drake would have to be excellent actors. She could believe it of Drake, but not of James. In fact, if Linnet acknowledged it, she would realize how desperately she wanted to believe James. The truths themselves were disconcerting to the highest degree, but she wanted to think she was not wrong about his character.
Suddenly, as haunting as a ghost, Drake's words popped back into her mind.
"He might be cute now, has he promised that he will protect you yet? How about this? I'll keep you alive for a week, two weeks, maybe three weeks, and you can see what he looks like when he's hungry." As Drake had intended, the thought weighed heavily on her mind. It only made sense that one who ate souls would get hungry the same as a human would. She did not want to think on it, but she could not help it.
Unbidden, the question popped into her mind.
'Are you hungry?' She felt a vague terror building, and sought to conceal it by requesting, "
May I 'ave more wa'ah?" A flush rose in her cheeks that was not entirely from fever, though her head drooped from actual fatigue.
After a couple sips, she felt slightly more composed. Still, a longing for solitude made her uncomfortable. Finally, a gentle, hesitant request passed her lips. "
I... I dropped me knife. Is theh any way," she paused and looked up at him, just barely keeping from flinching away as the thought of hunger flicked through her mind again. "
Could you find it?" There was a pleading in her eye, along with the all too familiar nervousness.
She looked overwhelmed. Or maybe her fever was creeping back up on her? He wasn't sure how exactly fevers worked, so it was likely; though it was equally likely that all this information was pulling her mind down corridors best left untouched. She asked for more water after a few long beats, and he unfolded himself from the chair to pour her another cup and hold it to her lips. From the closer proximity, he could feel the heat radiating off her, likely expounded upon by his own coolness. When she pulled back, he set the cup back down and watched a silent tension pass over her features for a moment, still standing as if about to jump back into motion.
She'd dropped her knife. A long, long time ago, it felt. The knife he'd given her? In a moment of reminisce, he put a hand to his jacket, the pocket where he'd kept that knife. The knife she'd killed Lira with. The knife that had glinted off the sunlight on the roof as she'd pulled it on Hassen, before he'd pressed his face into Drake's shoulder so he wouldn't have to watch her fall. Her expression was earnest, entreating, and he nodded, perhaps a bit too vigorously, in response.
Why she wanted it, he didn't bother to question. Perhaps it would bring her some semblance of safety? Of course, there wasn’t much she could do against Drake, but if she wanted the knife, she could have it. He'd just have to figure out where it had fallen to, which probably mean skirting Hassen and climbing out onto the roof itself to look down at where it could have landed. Continuing to nod absentmindedly, James took a moment to wipe off her flushed face with the cloth one more time then turned to leave, offering her a wave and a small smile before shutting the door.
Hopefully, Drake wouldn't catch him out and about.
James eagerly agreed, but Linnet had little energy to consider that fact. She held out until James left the room, his smile unnoted, before the shreds her calm facade seemed to crumple. Her breath was quick and light as she tried to quell panic. No tears came, at least not right away, but she leaned her head back against the frame of the bed, as if it were too heavy for her. In a way it was. She was weak and exhausted both physically and mentally. It felt as though a month had passed, though it had to be shorter than that. Of course, she was unsure exactly how long it had been since her attempted escape. What she had learned in that time was worth years of consideration. The realization struck her that she did not have years. Not even months. She trembled slightly, unable to still herself even as a new wave of pain washed through her. Even though she was sweating, she felt cold all over.
All she had ever known had been taken from her, replaced by a reality so absurd yet horrible, she never could have believed it had she not experience it. Now the tears did come, soft, steady, and unnoticed. She did not want to die. She did not want Drake to win her soul. She did not want James to be more than the unthreatening boy he seemed to be. Even with what James was, she could not help the instinctual trust she had toward him. All the same, she wished only for freedom. Linnie even wished for James’s freedom from what he had become, though she held little more than hatred toward Drake. Yet, in a way, it was James who was her time limit. Drake seemed sure that James would kill her in the end and the thought chilled her to her core. Her time was limited, but she did not and could not accept defeat to Drake’s plan. Linnet thought, rather unfocused by this time, that she may perhaps have a week to come up with something. With her luck, she could not trust fate to give her more than that.
Her eyes wandered the room as she thought, settling on the bowl of soup sitting not far away. It had cooled hours ago, but she realized it had been long time since she had eaten. She became aware of that odd combination of nausea and hunger that often results from a long fast. Of course fasting for Linnet had always been more involuntary than not. She was no stranger to going without food for long periods, and the desperation that came with it. At this point though, she hadn’t the energy to even attempt to feed herself. She settled into as comfortable a position as she could find. Long before James returned, she was asleep and firmly in the control of fevered dreams and nightmares.
