The sickness struck them like lightning. There was no warning. A troll named Kafele came down with it first. One night she lay sick in her tent with a fever and a bad cough. Twenty-four hours later she was dead. Then, two more trolls fell ill. Then two more. The strongest of them lasted seven nights. Some succumbed the same night their symptoms materialized.
Whatever the illness was, it had no regard for blood color. Lowbloods, midbloods, and highbloods alike fell to it. The symptoms were a bit like a disease known as the Flux, which was common among lowbloods. It began with coughing. At first it was just a dry hack. Then, slowly, the afflicted would began to cough up phlegm. Phlegm quickly turned to blood. It would come out of their mouths in alarming quantities with each cough. By that time they would have a horrible fever. In the end stages, it would be difficult for them to breathe. Blood would drip from their noses, mouths, and eyes. If the fever did not kill them, the blood did. They choked on it, drowned in it.
The sick trolls were put in a large tent a little bit away from camp. A handful of trolls volunteered to care for them, only to fall sick themselves. After ten nights, Kankri, Porrim, and Lacene were the only healers left standing. Both Lacene and Porrim were impervious to disease, and it was thought that Kankri's mutantblood somehow gave him immunity.
He paced through the rows of sick trolls, looking at the familiar faces. Many of them were in the final throes of the disease. It was difficult to watch. Kankri known many of these trolls since he was a grub, and now he had to watch them sicken and die.
Viovis began to cough violently. Without missing a beat, Kankri grabbed a wooden bowl and went over to her. He held it underneath her mouth while she coughed. Yellow blood oozed from her mouth and nose. The sight of the yellow blood, dripping slowly into the bowl, began to trigger a vision. Kankri closed his eyes and managed to suppress it. Now that he was six sweeps, he was handling them better. Most of the time he could fight them off. But there were times when they simply refused to be ignored.
"Here," Kankri said, taking a rag and wiping her face. "Do you want some water?"
Viovis nodded and laid back down, too exhausted to sit up for more than a couple of minutes. He stood and walked to the corner of the tent. A single clay jug stood filled with cool, clear water. It had to last another three days, and it had to last for all of them. Kankri poured a small amount into a wooden cup and carried it back to Viovis. She drank it gratefully, then fell asleep.
"Kankri? I brought you some food," Meulin said, entering the tent. Her voice was barely above a whisper. The tent was as silent as a grave, aside from the sounds of coughing and labored breathing.
He went to the entrance to meet her, taking a handful of berries from her. Since Kankri and the sick trolls were not doing work, they were not receiving rations. They were forced to rely on the kindness of the healthy trolls. But, so far, everyone had been generous. Porrim had given up her rations entirely, and was existing off of blood from a couple of willing participants.
"Thank you Meulin." Kankri smiled at her. Initially, she had wanted to help care for the sick. But she was too good of a hunter to remain in a tent all night. So she did her part wherever she could. "I'm starving."
"You need fresh air," she said. "Come sit outside with me."
Kankri glanced over his shoulder at the sick trolls. "But-"
"Go on Kankri," Porrim said, speaking up from the opposite end of the tent. She was administering some medicine to one of their patients, attempting to bring their fever down. "You need to rest."
With that, Meulin yanked him out of the tent. They settled themselves underneath a tree, not too far from the tent. Kankri devoured the berries in a matter of moments. Often when people brought them rations he would pass them along to the sick. It gave them strength, but it left him with an empty stomach.
"You look tired," Meulin said, watching him eat. She hugged her knees close to her chest.
"You do too," he said. "Are your nightmares getting any better?"
She shook her head. Now that they were six sweeps old, they were beginning to make the transition into adulthood. Meulin had started having horrible nightmares. With no sopor slime to ease her sleep, she would wake in the middle of the day screaming. She was more aggressive than before, more keen to fight. Kankri, however, still had pleasant dreams. The violent thoughts that plagued the subconsciousness of all trolls seemed to be absent in him. He remained as he had always been.
"Have yours started?" she asked. "At all?"
"No," Kankri replied. "Mother says it's because I'm a late bloomer."
"Lucky you," Meulin sighed, resting her chin on top of her knees. "Then again, maybe it's a trade-off. For the...you know."
"I think I'd take the nightmares over the visions," he said, lowering his voice on instinct. The visions were still their own private secret. No one knew about them, not even Porrim. "But I'm getting better at repressing them. Maybe soon I'll stop seeing them altogether."
"Maybe," Meulin said. "Maybe not."
They lapsed into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by coughing from within the tent. Kankri looked over and frowned. Part of him dreaded going back in. He didn't want to watch the trolls he cared about die in slow agony. They were all certainly going to die. None of the medicines they used seemed to help. They could bring down the fever, but the coughing and the blood refused to respond to any combination of herbs. None of them had the medical knowledge to deal with this.
Well, he thought, why don't we just find someone who does?
He knew at once that it would be their only chance. But finding a doctor would be a challenge. The Tribe treated everything with herbal remedies. They knew what plants could ease vomiting and what juices took the sting out of burns. The knowledge was passed from troll to troll, and most people could treat themselves for a variety of ailments. It was not incredibly different out in the rest of the world. A bad cough or a sprained ankle was enough to get you culled. So most preferred to treat themselves to the best of their ability. But serious illnesses and injuries that required treatment would require a doctor, and that was a risky business.
Most doctors learned their craft in secret from an older, more experienced mentor. They almost exclusively worked on highblood patients, as they were the only ones who could afford their discreet services. Where would they find a doctor who would be willing to work on lowbloods and midbloods? Feral lowbloods and midbloods at that?
There has to be someone out there, Kankri thought, his mind racing. The others in the Tribe liked to talk about how cruel the world outside their camp was. But surely it couldn't be that bad, could it? His mother had told him that a threshecutioner would kill him without a second thought. Yet he had been spared by one. There was compassion in Alternia; you just had to go out and find it.
He got to his feet and smiled. "Meulin, I think it's safe to say the Tribe has reached a state of emergency."
"Yes, it has," Meulin said with a sigh. "Everyone's sick."
"You know what that means, right?" Kankri offered her his hand. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. "It means we have to go to the city."
The idea of going into the city was not welcomed warmly. It was only after several more deaths and several new cases of the sickness did the Tribe begin to realize that this was not something they could beat with herbal remedies and careful quarantine.
"I still don't know where we're expected to find a doctor," Lacene said, frowning. She grabbed a rag and began to mop up a puddle of blood that had been left by the most recent deceased troll. "And if we do find one, how do we know we can trust them? We won't be able to pay them, and they can make a fortune by selling us to the threshers."
"Surely someone will take pity on us?" Kankri said. He knelt beside Sanuor, who was one of the recently afflicted. They were attempted to keep the bleeding at bay for as long as possible. Sanuor was a mutant like many other members of the Tribe, but his was not typically visible. His mutation was also potentially deadly: his blood refused to coagulate. Something as simple as a bloody nose could cause him to bleed to death. A sickness like this, which caused large amounts of internal bleeding, would kill him in an hour if they did not find some way to prevent the bleeding from starting. They were attempting to accomplish this by giving him a new herbal concoction that was meant to thicken the blood. Whether or not it would accomplish this task was yet to be seen.
"Kankri, there are very few trolls out there capable of pity," Lacene replied. She frowned at him and dipped her bloody rag into a bowl of water.
He thought of the threshecutioner. Even though it had been two sweeps, he could still see his face in his mind's eye. Kankri said nothing. The chance encounter with the threshecutioner had remained a secret from everyone, including Meulin.
"Compassion has its limits," Porrim agreed.
"It didn't with you," Kankri said quietly. "There are kind trolls out there. Even highbloods can be good."
Lacene and Porrim exchanged a look. It was difficult for Kankri to fully grasp what the world outside their group was like. Perhaps one day he would see it for himself, and realize just how lucky he was.
The young troll finished giving Sanuor his medicine and began to move on to the next patient. While Kankri was helping them, Sanuor spoke suddenly.
"I knew one," he said quietly. His voice was hoarse.
Kankri glanced over at him. "Hm?"
"A kind troll," Sanuor said. "She was a doctor."
That piqued their interest. He now had their full attention. Even Lacene stopped what she was doing to listen.
"Could she help us?" Kankri asked.
"I don't know," Sanuor answered. "She's a lowblood. It's been many sweeps...she's probably old now. If they didn't catch her treating people. If they did, she was probably executed."
"If we wanted to find her," Kankri said, "where would we look?"
At that moment Sanuor was overcome by a violent coughing fit. Kankri comforted him the best he could, but he couldn't help but feel impatient. Every night, the number of the sick and dying increased. It seemed that with every minute that ticked by, their group was that much closer to total annihilation at the hands of the mysterious virus. When Sanuor finally recovered, he provided an answer.
"Last I heard, she was living in the country," Sanuor said. "South of Metrollpolis."
"Metrollpolis? That's far from here." Lacene frowned. They were at their third camp of the sweep, and it was far from even the smallest town. After their other camp burned, they'd made it a point to get as far away from civilization was physically possible.
Porrim looked to her. "One of us could probably make the journey fairly quick. We're faster than the others."
"I want to go," Kankri said quietly. For three sweeps he'd been working for his food within the Tribe. Most of the time he was relegated to water duty, foraging, or patching tents due to his 'fainting spells'. Everyone else was busy risking their lives for the good of the Tribe, and he was always picking fruit. But he was getting a handle on his visions. He was six sweeps old now. It was time to step up. "I'm going to go."
His mother sighed. "Kankri, you're not old enough. It'd be too dangerous for you out there."
"I'm six," Kankri replied with a frown. "When you were six you-"
"No one is going anywhere. At least not yet," Lacene interrupted. "We don't even know this person's name, or if she's still alive. For all we know she was culled sweeps ago."
"I hope not," Kankri said, turning back to his work. He could always fight it out with his mother later. "She's our only hope."
The remaining members of the Council seated themselves beside the fire. The rest of the Tribe watched them anxiously. Lacebe spoke up first to tell them the results of their meeting. She cleared her throat, then said: "We've decided we're going to send a small group out to look for the doctor Sanuor described. At most the group should contain no more than three trolls with no visible mutations. Are there any volunteers?"
There was a moment of tense silence. Then, suddenly, Kankri and Meulin's hands shot up at the same time. The Council looked to them.
"We'd like to volunteer," Kankri said, ignoring the look his mother was giving them.
"Kankri, Meulin, you two are much too young to be going anywhere," Lacene said, frowning at them.
"I don't know," Jupaza said, speaking up. "I think it's about time they started pulling their weight."
"They've been pulling their weight for two sweeps now!" Porrim hissed suddenly. She had been quiet at the beginning, but now she could hold her silence no longer. "I'm their custodian, and I forbid it."
Kankri frowned and looked to Kennoe for help. She most likely couldn't see his pleading look, as her vision had never fully recovered from her trip into broad daylight. But she seemed to sense it. "Porrim, they're old enough to make decisions for themselves. They're six sweeps old! Plus, it's not a bad idea."
"Excuse me?" Lacene said, turning on Kennoe. "How is sending two wrigglers to find a doctor a good idea?"
"How much attention do people give wrigglers?" Kennoe asked, arching an eyebrow. "None. They walk past them like they're not even there. Yeah, nubs is a mutant. But his eyes are still gray. No one would be able to tell unless they drew blood. And I think Meulin would get to them before they got to him."
Kiroph frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. "She's got a point. But I still don't like the idea of sending the two of them out alone."
"I'll go then," Porrim said, frowning. She looked at Kankri. "Where he goes, I go."
"Please tell me you three aren't serious about this," Lacene said, looking at the rest of the Council. "This is a very important task, and you're thinking of entrusting it with two six sweep olds and only one adult?"
"If the wrigglers want to do it, let them do it," Jupaza replied. She looked at the other members of the Tribe. "Does anyone else want to volunteer?"
No one raised their voice or their hand. None of them were keen on going back towards civilization after the last incident. The idea of facing threshecutioners – or any other type of authority – was enough to make them want to take their chances with the virus. It was decided then that Kankri, Meulin, and Porrim would be the ones to go hunting for the doctor. The meeting was dismissed, and everyone returned to their tents. Lacene alone went down to the sick tent. She was now the only healer they had who could safely tend to the sick.
"You two know you're far too young to do this," Porrim said, her voice full of steel.
"We can do it," Meulin replied, frowning. "We've made it on our own before. Remember?"
"That was out of necessity. It couldn't be helped," Porrim snapped. "This isn't a necessity."
Kankri frowned at her. "Yes, it is. Someone needs to go get a doctor. Even though it's dangerous, someone has to do it. Or else everyone will suffer."
With that, Kankri and Meulin curled up together on their sleeping pile. After they settled down together, he turned his face away and coughed once.