Nell was miserable. She still didn't understand what was going on.
This looked like the castle that she'd performed in, as she glanced around her at the Great Hall. This was the same room, she thought… but it had changed.
The creatures that called themselves Gargoyles had tried to explain that she was somehow in the future, and that while this was Castle Wyvern, it was no longer in Scotland.
Worst of all, she'd woken up in the most uncomfortable clothes. She had worn dresses or skirts her whole life. The closest she'd been to being seen in men's pants was when she was little, and her parents had allowed her to wear a split skirt while learning to ride a horse. Once she'd gotten good enough at it, it was back into skirts.
She had protested that she couldn't walk around the castle in men's pants like that. It was indecent.
The beautiful woman, Fox was her name, had provided a beautiful gown in shades of green and blue. The skirt was not as full as she was used to, but it was the colors and texture of home. She donned the gown, fastened the belt low on her hips as she'd seen the higher born ladies do it, and finally emerged from the room she'd been given.
Now she found herself surrounded by the oddest mix of humans and creatures, all seeming to be speaking different languages.
Nell felt like her head had been stuffed with cotton. She was having trouble focusing on anything at the moment, and she felt as if she were sitting in the fireplace instead of next to it.
She wiped at her forehead, only a little surprised to come away with sweat staining the sleeve of her shirt.
"Elis… er… Nell," a woman, Beth, approached her. "Are you alright?"
"Nae," Nell responded, mentally cursing at herself. She'd been born and raised in the Scottish highlands, where they almost exclusively spoke Gaelic. She had only started learning English when her troupe started travelling closer and closer to the English border, but had not been diligent about learning the complicated language. "I…"
Beth frowned. "You look hot," Beth gently placed a hand against her head. "God, you are hot." Beth stood and looked around the room. "Hudson, can you help me?"
Hudson approached the two women. "Aye lass."
"Can you ask her if she's sick?" Beth asked. "She's burning up."
Hudson frowned, and translated the question.
Nell replied, and the two had a brief conversation.
"The lass is confused about everything happening around her, and she feels a little warm, but otherwise she says she feels fine," He assured Beth.
"Maybe we should have the doctor look at her." Beth worried.
"Couldna' hurt," Hudson said, and told Nell that they were going to call a friend up to take a look at her.
Nell nodded her assent, stood…
And passed out cold.
Half an hour later, with the assistance of both Margaret and Kiersten, Doctor James finished his examination and met with Hudson in the waiting area of the medical wing.
"There is nothing physically wrong with her," Doctor James insisted, having thoroughly examined Nell. "There is no reason for her temperature to spike like this. It's almost as if she's fighting an infection of some kind, but there are no physical injuries to cause it, and her blood tests have all come out clear."
Hudson stroked his beard thoughtfully. He had caught the lass before she had hit the floor a short time ago and rushed her down to the infirmary.
"An infection, you say," He mused. He hadn't shared the fact that the lass had been whipped as a punishment by some overzealous guards, not wanting to worry the others, but now he wondered if that had something to do with the lass' illness. He argued with himself for a moment before he told the doctor about what he knew.
Doctor James' head snapped up. "Whipped? She said she'd been whipped?"
"Aye, lad," Hudson said, wondering at the doctor's reaction.
"There's a connection," Doctor James thought out loud. "There is some kind of connection between the two women, and I think it's deeper than we originally thought." He quickly told Hudson of the incident with Elisa's screaming in agony, and his theory that Elisa may have been experiencing Nell's pain.
"And if that's true," Doctor James began.
"Then Elisa may be the one to have the infection and fever," Hudson finished, grimly.
"Exactly," The doctor said.
"Can you not treat Nell with what you would give Elisa?" Hudson said, suddenly. "If they are sharing illnesses…"
Doctor James smiled and completed the thought, "Then maybe they can share the cures!"
Turning, Doctor Bradley James prepared to do the impossible. He attempted to treat a woman in the present time to help save a woman in 994 AD Scotland.
He hoped it worked.
-{- -{- -{- -{- -{-
Elisa faded in and out for a while, losing complete track of time. The fever taking a toll on her body, and robbing her of the ability to track the time passing. Her world became a complete confusion of treatments from Humans and Gargoyles alike.
Finally, After what felt like years, Elisa came to. She was weak, but felt like she was actually awake for the first time in a long time.
When she opened her eyes, she found herself looking at a young Demona.
"So, you're finally awake," She said indifferently. "Your fever broke about two hours ago."
Elisa was on her stomach again. Gingerly, she rolled to her side and pushed into a sitting position. Cursing the weakness, and vowing that the next time the doctor gave her antibiotics to fight infection she would take them with no complaints, Elisa raised her face to the Gargoyle who would be the biggest pain in her ass.
In the future.
Not this Demona. This one had a distaste for humans that she couldn't quite hide, but it wasn't the burning hatred that would turn her into the destructive one from her timeline.
Yet.
"How long has it been?" Elisa asked, coughing a little at her dry throat.
Demona all but rolled her eyes, and we to a small stand beside the bed that held a pitcher and a small wooden tankard. Demona poured water into the tankard and handed it to Elisa.
"Thank you," Elisa said, taking a deep drink of the blessedly cool water. "Do you have a name that I can call you?"
The red haired gargoyle shook her head. "We have no names. Only Goliath, our leader, answers to something other than Brother."
Elisa nodded. She remembered Hudson's initial frustration at her insistence that they have names.
"Is there a name I can call you?" Elisa asked.
Demona seemed to think on that one. "My mate calls me Angel."
Elisa almost choked on the water. She couldn't. She couldn't call her that.
"Sorry," Elisa said, "I was drinking too fast."
Demona raised an eyebrow at her as if she wasn't totally buying that one, but she didn't say anything.
Elisa had a thought. "Do you have any knowledge of magic?" Perhaps this Demona was already in training and learning magic enough to potentially help her.
"Some," Demona replied. "And why would you have need of magic?"
Elisa looked down where her hands were clutching the cup. As much as she detested the thought of asking Demona for a favor, she needed to get back to her time before something bad happened. She was afraid of messing with the timeline, and going home to a changed world.
"If I were to tell you something," Elisa began slowly, "Would you be willing to listen?"
Demona cocked her head, intrigued. "I will listen."
Elisa took a deep breath. "I am not from here," she began. Eliminating her interactions with the clan in the future, she spoke of the cities of the future. How magic and technology were prevalent, trying to simplify her description of the wonders so that Demona would not write her off as a total crackpot. "A magic wielder cast a spell on me, and I ended up here, in this body. Have you heard of such a spell?"
Demona gave her an incredulous look. "I am not sure if you are telling me the truth, or if you have gone insane with the fever."
"Ask me anything," Elisa insisted. She had to be careful how much she revealed, but she would do anything to convince Demona.
"Are there gargoyle clans still in your world?" Demona asked cautiously.
Elisa nodded. "I live on a small island far from here, and we have a clan of Gargoyles that watches over us. There are other clans around the world as well."
Demona smiled. "It is good to know that the clans live on to see such wonders."
"I am one of the few human guardians who care for the clan on my island, and I must get back there," Elisa said, afraid to hope. The irony that her life was laying in Demona's hands was not lost to her. "Will you help me?"
Demona hesitated. "I will look through the books in the Magus' library and I will try to find what you seek."
"Thank you," Elisa said, feeling some of the tension seep away from her.
The sounds of taloned feet on the stone floor outside caught her attention. An unfamiliar male gargoyle walked into view.
"Sister," He greeted Demona. "Word has come for me to fetch the human and escort her to the throne room."
Elisa felt her chest tighten. Had she run out of time?
Frantically, her gaze sought Demona. Demona met her gaze, and gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"She is weak," Demona pointed out. "And her back has not fully healed, so you will be unable to carry her."
"We shall walk," He replied. "It will take longer, but I have no wish to cause more pain." He offered Elisa a hand. "You have been hurt enough."
Elisa took hold of his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. "Lean on me, lass," he said with a smile. "I will not break, and I will not let you fall."
"Thank you," Elisa said softly.
Out of options, she allowed him to escort her from the room.