Sex, Drugs, and Oblivian

13/21

The shivering had gotten worse, Maze tried to sooth Lucifer's shaking limbs with her own body heat. His skin continued to grow cooler to the touch each ashfall, as though something inside him were dying.

"Mazikeen, I think it's time to introduce your angel to the pool."

"What pool?"

The nest-minder grunted, staring at the hearth. "There's a large basin, big enough for ten full grown Lilim. We use it for cleaning spawn when their grime gets too thick. The water flows, hot from the underground spring. It loosens the muck off them and makes them good and tired. We've used it on lethe addled when they can't warm themselves. Works well enough in the short term."

"We don't know Lucifer is damaged—"

"The cold is on him. It's not a good sign."

"How hot is it?"

"Hot enough. And it's about time to get some of that ash off. It's a wonder he's not got toxic rash yet."

It was true, the longer they waited to clean him, the more complications would arise. But his skin thus far had been far too over-stimulated to even make the attempt. "I'll bring him."

She carried Lucifer as Dromos led the way down the tunnel, carrying the dim covered lantern with him.

"You'll have to go in with him." Dromos said.

Mazikeen rolled her eyes. Did he think she was just going to toss him in and let him sink? She passed her burden to the nestminder, removed her clothes, and jumped in. The heat was a shock to the system, but it felt good. Hot, but not burning. If this didn't warm Lucifer, she wasn't sure what could.

Dromos passed him down, and Maze gripped him awkwardly. If he were Lilim she'd have held him with his back against her front, but the wings got in the way of that, and she held him facing her instead. It would have to do. She found a spot to get comfortable, leaning against the corner so she could support herself and hold him at the same time.

A gentle current ran through the pool, the hot spring constantly replenishing itself; the dirty water draining to parts unknown. This was much better than the disgusting basins in the bath houses where you sat in your filth to get clean.

The current of the water gently billowed his wings around her. The water slipped in and around his feathers, the grime sticking to them dissolving, turning the water dark, and then clearing as it drained and was replaced.

She felt him stir against her, tensing in her arms.

"Lucifer. Are coming back to me?"

"Maze?" His voice was rough and low. His eyes darted around the room. "Are you real?"

"Yes, I'm real."

His arms came up, around her, holding onto her as much as she was holding him. His eyes remained unfocused. And then he started to relax again, his grip around her back loosened.

"Stay awake, stay with me."

"I am." But his grip loosened further until he was lax in her arms again. The gentle motions of the water undulated his wings.

"You were cold," Maze explained. "Dromos thought water would be a good idea. You're warmer now. You're going to be okay."

"Water?" he said after a long pause. He lifted his hand as he used to when he'd only been learning to speak.

Her heart clenched. Did he understand anything she was saying?

"Lucifer, I want to wash your wings for you. Can you extend them?" she asked, and waited, but he didn't respond. She maneuvered him around to prop him up on the edge of the pool. She sighed in relief when he extended them. He did understand. It wasn't just a response to the position. He wasn't addled.

"You've got ash all over you," she explained and grabbed a handful of sponge-moss. She started brushing it along his plumes, as gently as she could. "You're feathers were gray with it when Squee brought you in."

"Squee?" he echoed.

"He found you out in the ash at the end of wind. You met him before, remember?"

Lucifer shook his head tiredly. "No."

She went on. He was awake, and it felt better talking to him than not, even if he didn't understand. "You hate when your wings get ashy. You told me how bad they itch," and she continued on as she worked, by the time she was done, most of the ash had been cleared from his feathers. "Hold them out again, let the water rinse away what's left."

He did.

It was a simple interaction, but it gave her hope. Wings done, she ducked around him again, pulling him back against her, holding him steady in the hot water. "Stay awake," she whispered in his ear.

He was looking around again. "Where?"

"This is the nest under the Spire. Squee is a nest—"

He tensed, started struggling.

"Stop, what's wrong?"

"Spire—Maze…"

"No. Not in the Spire, under. We're safe here. I promise."

"I don't remember," he mumbled.

"I know. It's—" She stopped and cleared her throat. "You're going to be fine." The lie came easily, because it was the same one she'd been telling herself since this all started.

Dromos had warned her against staying in the heat too long. She pulled Lucifer back to the edge, and with a lot of effort, managed to drag him back up to the ground. He pushed himself up to his knees, swayed, and almost fell back into the water again. He would have if not for her arm around his waist. "Careful." She grabbed for her own clothes, and he started coughing all over again.

He bent forward braced on his arms, choking on the gunk in his lungs for what seemed like forever. Even after the coughing subsided he couldn't seem to catch his breath, and he ended up limp in her arms, unconscious from the ordeal. Whatever progress she'd imagined he'd gained in the water seemed lost all over again.

But the water had done its job. He was no longer cool to the touch. That had to count for something, didn't it?

She got dressed and Dromos helped her return Lucifer to their room. She watched Dromos place Lucifer on the bed roll where he curled up, nearly unresponsive.

"He's not improving." Mazikeen stared at Dromos.

"You said he spoke to you. That's improvement."

"Barely. A few words. I don't even think he understood most of what I said to him."

"Give it time." Dromos reached for her, but Mazikeen stepped away.

"How much time? I'm no use here. There are other things I should be doing, like tracking down who did this to him. I need to go to the Leviathan's Pit, someone there must know something."

Dromos grumbled. "The Pit? They don't deal in lethe there."

Mazikeen gestured at Lucifer. "Someone did this. I'm going to find out who."

"Didn't you say you're the only one who can take care of him?" Dromos taunted lightly. "You'd leave him now?"

Mazikeen looked back at the figure curled up on the floor. "I've done what I could."

"It takes time, Mazikeen. The poison is still in his mind."

"You said yourself, you don't think he'll come through this as he was, so what's the point! I'm no use here."

"Stay, Mazikeen. Even addled there is awareness. He's already shown he still recognises who you are. He calls for you first. When he wakes he'll suffer more for the confusion and panic if you aren't there. The lethe dealers aren't going anywhere."

She hesitated. Watching him like this hurt. The knowledge that he might never recover was more than she could bear. Lucifer moaned softly in his sleep. She didn't want to leave him. "I'll stay. Just until he's more aware."

Dromos nodded approvingly. "I'll have one of the minders bring some food and drink. Might make a decent nest-minder of you yet." He chuckled and darted out of the way before Mazikeen could punch his arm at the insult. "Give him more of the sleeping draught," he called as he ducked through the door.

But that left her alone again with Lucifer. She sat by his side, and gently rested her hand on his shoulder. She hated drugging him to sleep all the time, but at least asleep, he wasn't suffering. Dromos was right, the lethe dealers could wait for now. Until Lucifer recovered more. She measured the sleeping draught out and pulled Lucifer's head and shoulders onto her lap.

He woke briefly. "Maze?"

She startled at the sound of her name. There was more awareness in his eyes now than she'd seen through his entire recovery.

"You're here?" His voice was still rough with coughing and the deep bruises still visible across his throat, but the words were clear.

"Why wouldn't I be?" She squeezed his arm and he winced at the touch.

"You left."

"I'm here now. I'm staying. Drink this." She held the potion to his lips and he drank it.

He was quiet for a while, and she thought he'd drifted away again. "Maze."

"Hmm?"

He opened his eyes, focused on her face for the first time. He placed his fingers over hers.

"Stay with me, Lucifer," Mazikeen whispered, leaning close.

But Lucifer's eyes had already closed. His fingers slipped from hers, the sleeping draught taking effect. Mazikeen arranged him into a comfortable position on the bed and crawled up to lay behind him. She wrapped herself around his chest, and contemplated all the ways she could carve pieces out of whoever hurt him.

A routine set in. Mazikeen brought him to the pool each ashfall. He was calmer and more aware in the hot water. He grew stronger and eventually he was able to walk back to their quarters with her support. Food was delivered on a regular schedule. Ooze fungus, just as she'd asked for, and plenty of water. In between, he lay, eyes dim, unfocused.

"Time to eat, can you sit up?" Maze asked.

His gaze traveled to her, but it took a while for him to respond. Mazikeen waited, she tried to be patient. Slowly he shifted, pushed himself up on one arm, sat with his legs folded beside him.

She passed him a bowl, and he accepted. It felt a lot like back when she'd first met him. Far too much like that. "Do you recognise me?"

He shifted his attention from the bowl back to her face. "Yes."

"Do you remember what happened to you?"

He placed the bowl on the ground. "No."

"It was the lethe drug."

"Lethe?" Confusion marred his features.

"Yes."

He shuddered and took a deep breath, but his breath caught and turned into rasping coughs. He coughed and choked and Mazikeen pushed an empty bowl his way for him to spit the gunk still coming out of his lungs into. The coughs quieted after, but left him exhausted and he laid down without eating.

Nothing he'd said so far gave her any insight on his recovery. "Who gave you the lethe, Lucifer?"

"I did," he whispered and curled in on himself, as he did when in pain.

And that made no sense at all. She poured another sleeping drought. "It's okay. Drink this and sleep. Maybe you'll be able to tell me more next time you wake up."

She took back the bowl of ooze fungus and placed it by the door. At least the dream-wandering had quieted. There were no more nonsensical mutterings or movements as he rested. The stillness was just as disconcerting.

Dromos returned to check in. "The ash-lung is healing nicely, Mazikeen. With luck the danger has passed."

"Why's he still coughing so much?"

"Healing takes time. Is he still taking the sleeping draught?"

"Yes." She paced across the room near the fire. "How much longer, Dromos?"

"He needs to sleep, Mazikeen. The poison batters their minds, like fists to a body. Sleep lets the mind rest so it can heal. When the ache passes in his head, then we can stop making him sleep. It takes time. It is a mistake to push them when they're in this stage. They lose more."

"Fine! Fine! We keep him sleeping!"

"It's hard to wait." Dromos said aloud what she was thinking, as though she were a spawn needing confirmation.

Mazikeen growled at him.

"I brought you some leatherworking tools."

She eyed him. "At what cost?"

"Mazikeen," Dromos spread his arms wide, acting innocent. "Your words wound me. Why do you suspect ulterior motives?"

"What do you want for it?"

His grin only grew bigger. "I need belts for five spawn, this big"—he gestured with his huge hands—"And the tools are yours."

"And that's all?"

"Yes, Mazikeen. Unless you get bored and wish to make more spawn clothes. I've got plenty of leather. We could use whatever pieces you make to sell for extra coin at the market. You know the Spire only provides the barest of necessities. A little extra here and there is always appreciated."

She snatched the tools. "I'll make your belts."

"Up to you, of course. It's better than pacing and brooding."

The next hand of ashfalls passed much the same. When Lucifer was awake, he responded to some simple commands, but not much else. Other times he looked at her with his brows knit together and his head tilted to the side, as though he were trying to understand. He spoke a little, but questions about what happened brought nothing but confusion.

Dromos was no help with his talk about 'trainability' and reminders to not set her hopes too high. He didn't know Lucifer like she did.

Lucifer was looking at her again when she made her third pouch. She wondered how long he'd been awake. "Hungry?" She'd learned to keep her questions short.

He pushed himself up, as awkward and uncoordinated as he'd been the first time and coughed. Not the same deep hacking it had been in the beginning "Water?"

She passed him the flask. Him asking for things usually meant a good spell. Maybe this time he'd show a glimmer of his old self. He accepted the flask, drank, and placed it beside him when he was done.

"How are you feeling?" Maze asked cautiously.

He coughed again before answering. "My head's pounding. And it hurts—here." He placed his hand on his chest, and coughed.

She suppressed the whoop that wanted to escape. This was the first time he'd answered anything so clearly and quickly. "Do you know where you are?"

He looked around, confusion and growing worry showing in his expression. "No."

"This is the nest," she explained.

"Squee found me?" he asked.

Mazikeen grinned. "Yes. You remember?"

"No," he coughed again and cleared his throat. "You said… I was found in the ash?"

How long ago had she told him that? He remembered? "You've been aware of everything I told you? All this time?"

He shook his head, his gaze drifted away from her. "Some… not a lot."

Mazikeen forced herself to stay calm, to take it slow. First she yelled out for the nearest nest-minder to go get some food. She was sick of ooze fungus, but she wanted Lucifer to be comfortable. So long as she stayed with him, she'd been eating the same as him.

When she turned back, Lucifer was still awake and staring at her, though he was rubbing his forehead and grimacing. A bad sign. She gave him another sleeping draught, but couldn't resist asking "How much do you remember?" He was getting better, she could go kill whoever was responsible if he could point her in the right direction…

But he only glanced around the small room. "Here. A long time?"

She turned her face away, not wanting him to see the disappointment. "Yeah. It's been a while."

He saw it anyway, and reached forward, taking her hand. She let him pull her down, chest to chest, his arms wrapping around her shoulders and holding her close. "Maze, I've missed you," he whispered.

"I've missed you, too," Maze answered.

Over the next few ashfalls, he stayed awake longer, and he started talking more. Mazikeen tried not to push. He remembered her former dome, and the market, he talked about walking the lanes, and asked about Fraq and her males, Wen, Bof, and Grog. She filled in as many missing pieces as she could. Even as he talked to her, it was clear when memories started coming together. His face became more animated, and suddenly details would emerge about a place Fraq had showed him, or some characteristics he found interesting on a Lilim he'd seen at the Leviathan Pit.

He said not a word about what happened at the Spire with the tribute or about the lethe drug.

"Lucifer, I've waited too long. I have to go find who hurt you."

He met her gaze steadily. "No one hurt me, Maze."

"Just because you don't remember—"

"I remember enough."

"Then why haven't you said anything?"

"Because there's nothing to say. It's all mixed up. There's so much I can't sort out—"

"If you don't remember, why are you so adamant that no one hurt you?" Mazikeen hadn't meant to upset him. It was still too soon in his recovery to push. She noticed the fine lines forming around his eyes. The headache was returning.

He looked past her. "I remember wanting it. I still want it. Maze—" he couldn't continue as another bout of coughing took over. It left him panting for breath, but he sat up again. "I liked it."

Mazikeen shook her head. "You're only saying that because you don't remember. That's how lethe works, it makes you like it so much you keep going back for more even when you know you shouldn't." She wished she could make him understand. "You're not from here, how are you to know more than our own kind who are trained to survive out in the collective? I was supposed to protect you, and I failed. We've both been manipulated, and I'm going to find out by who."

"There's no one," he mumbled, rubbing his temples. "My head hurts, it's hard to focus."

"Just a few more questions, Lucifer. Do you remember where you got the lethe?"

"There was a large dome? I can't sort it out. It's all," he spun his hand in the air. "Mixed up."

"When you think about lethe, is there anyone you think of, in particular?"

He closed his eyes, forehead creasing in tension. "When I try, it's just shadows. Let me come with you. If I'm there, maybe I'll see something to help me remember more."

She snorted. She'd be an idiot to trust he wanted anything other than more lethe, but she said, "Not while you're still recovering."

"Then wait for me." he reached her hand again but she pulled away.

"Not this time. You're well enough now for Dromos to take care of you."

"Don't leave me behind again, Maze."

"Only for now. Dromos is a nest minder." She placed her hand on his shoulder. "He helped you when Squee brought you in from the ash, got you breathing again."

"No."

"Take the sleeping draught. I'm going to the Leviathan's Pit to ask around."

"I'm tired of sleeping." He placed his hand over hers.

Mazikeen took a deep breath. Had she really been looking forward to him arguing with her again? She grinned, of course she had.

"Come here, Maze."

She chuckled, "I am here."

He leaned in closer, kissed her neck.

"You're still not well. Take the sleeping draught."

"I've missed you," he said, but accepted the medicine. "Maze," he said, and pulled her to him. He closed
his mouth over hers, and she lay down at his coaxing. Their hands roamed one another, mapping out once familiar features. His hands soon stilled, one arm draped across her abdomen, and his eyes drifted closed.

"How bad is it?" she asked him, trailing her fingers across his forehead.

"There's a pounding inside. Constantly," he admitted.

"It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

"I don't feel okay."

"It's the drug. This will pass."

He hugged her tighter and nuzzled into her neck. "The Leviathan's Pit is a good place. Don't hurt the throwbacks. I like them."

Maze heaved a sigh, but said, "We'll see. Depends on what I discover."

"Stay with me."

"For a little while. Sleep and I'll stay another ashfall."

She ran her fingers through his hair. He talked—mumbled—about a green-haired female with a forked tongue who liked him and took him places. The description sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. If the patrons at The Leviathan's Pit didn't prove helpful, she would find this female and demand to know where she had taken Lucifer.