Chapter 9: Goodbye Is Hard to Say
"Magelet, don't do this to me! Open your eyes! Open them! Alanna, heal her! Heal her before it's too late! Quickly!" Numair cried, kneeling beside his fallen love. Alanna too dropped to her knees, crying, hands on Daine's stomach. She tapped her life force, just; a bolt of raw energy shot towards Daine's heart. Her chest began to rise, barely. Alanna checked Daine's pulse: it paced sluggish, dull throbs. Alanna felt her own rigid muscles loosen a little.
"She's alive," she reported, nearly breathless. Numair, wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead, wrapped his magic around Daine's limp body. Picking her up himself would be too risky, in case she had hurt her spine. Slowly, Alanna and Numair entered the previously constructed healer's tent and Numair laid Daine on a cot. Alanna borrowed magic and energy from Numair, rolled up her sleeves, cleansed her hands, and began to work.
Numair shooed away Daine's friends who had come to watch. He could tell they were all worried, but Alanna needed her space. He sat, like a stone, on a stool in the corner of Daine's private ward, but then just got up to pace. Worry couldn't even begin to describe what he was feeling now. It was his fault Daine had gotten hurt. Why couldn't he not give in? She would have been safe at home, with him, if he hadn't let her go. Numair felt as if the walls and the very air he breathed were turning on him, closing in. He watched Alanna's every move, saw her facial expressions. It wasn't good. Just then the walls closed completely and his knees gave out.
Alanna was bent over Daine's wound. Usually patients didn't live this long after a sword passed through their kidney and out the other side. Carefully she peeled Daine's blood-soaked clothing away from her body. Alanna searched the extent of the damage with her magic: what she found was bad, but still not the worst. There was lead and shredded matter inside, but no back spine damage. Trying not to let Numair's pacing get to her (after all, the man was practically insane with terror) and concentrated on healing. She placed one hand where the sword had ran through on Daine's back and one on where it had entered. Closing her eyes, she poured her magic into healing. She didn't see Numair collapse.
"Numair, you know stomach wounds are fatal. Don't kid yourself; it'll only make it worse in the end." Raoul's harsh words were a slap in the face to Numair. Raoul had come to check on Daine and had seen Numair sprawled on the ground. That was when he decided Numair needed fresh air.
"I know," he said quietly, so that one would need to be acute of hearing to catch it. Raoul was. The dried tears on both men's cheeks had left streaks. Numair sat with his head in his hands, the appearance if a defeated being. Suddenly he got up, faced the distant, deserted bandit camp. With a word of power, Raoul guessed, the camp disappeared.
"That was stupid." No reprimand was behind these words, however. Anger vented, Numair sat once again. Raoul just patted his old friend's back.
It must have been hours later that the Healer's tent flap finally opened. A worn Alanna trudged out, eyes swollen from heavy crying. Both of them, as well as others, jumped up. Raoul caught her as she began to fall.
Alanna's tears welled up again. "I - I tried. I tried my best. The fever took her. She's alive, but the fever took her." She confessed all these words into Raoul's chest. He hugged her (A/N: a friendly hug, cuz she's married to George of course!) and tried to soothe her. Everyone seemed relieved that Daine was alive, but a fever could be just as deadly.
Numair ran into her tent, almost dying when he saw that Daine was breathing. It wasn't as ragged as before, but her face seemed much paler than it had been. He gently caressed her forehead, pulling away when it burned. She was hot to the touch, yet she shivered. Numair tucked the blankets closer to her sides, careful around her torso.
Numair watched as yet another healer (the third that night) checked her bandages, poured something down her throat, and asked if he wanted anything. He didn't reply, he never replied, and stared at Daine. The only time when he wasn't looking at her was when he blinked. He didn't feel tired; he didn't feel much of anything anymore. He wasn't hungry or cold or hot. The only things he felt were passion towards Daine and as if something were squeezing his heart. She couldn't die. He wouldn't let her die.
A week later, the group was back in Corus. It had taken a lot of care to get Daine this far. She traveled in a wagon; often the Lioness perched beside her. Daine needed all the help she could get to survive. She needed medicines every two hours, bandages every twelve, and food every six. Mostly Daine was able to keep her food down, but it wasn't without easy. Through the whole trip, she woke only once to ask what had happened. Then she just slept. It was a deep sleep and she would often thrash and cry out. Alanna knew that these were the beginning of delirium.
Daine felt herself being lowered onto something. All she knew was that she had been wounded and now was fighting fever. She knew she would die. She needed to say goodbye to Numair and everyone else, and she tried to open her eyes to no prevail. Daine could feel death's presence as a shadow growing in her mind, ever closer as days went by. Nights were the worse; whispers called to her, told her to come to them. Hands would grab for her, but she would refuse and push them away. She knew her friends came to see her. Most of all, though, she felt Numair beside her, holding her hand and wiping her brow. A green fire fought the black shadow of death every afternoon, trying to thrust it from her. It didn't work entirely, and she tried to tell them that they were wasting their time. There it was again; the green fire. The black shadow receded slightly, only to advance once the light was gone.
Numair sat beside Daine. He had barely taken his eyes off her since they had returned to Corus. She had been situated in a screened ward of the infirmary, away from the regular patients. Numair was suddenly alert; Daine was thrashing under her blankets, crying to unseen horrors. In an instant he was right at her side, holding her small, sweaty hands in his and whispering soothing things to his magelet. She calmed under his touch.
"Numair, you need to eat. I can watch her while you go to supper." It was Neal, one of Daine's healers. Numair didn't want to go, but in order to keep his strength he needed food. He had to be strong for Daine.
Neal watched as Numair left, closing the door with a smart click. Once alone, Neal took up one of Daine's hands.
"I know you don't know this, but I love you. I've loved you for a long while, I guess you could say. I know you'll pull through this. My father and I will get you well again. You just wait." Daine stirred, and then opened her eyes.
"Neal?" Her voice was barely a whisper. He squeezed her hand, leaning close. It had been a while since she had come out of her delirium.
"Neal, it's close. I can't win. You know that." A tear trickled down Neal's cheek to fall on her sheets. "None of that. Be happy for the life I had." Neal nodded. Just then Numair walked back into the ward.
"Numair, she's awake!" He rushed over, thanking Neal for watching her. Neal, noticing a dismissal, left.
"Numair," she recognized him! She licked her dry lips.
"Yes, sweet? Can I get you anything?" Daine didn't even try to shake her head. She could feel death now, approaching steadily. "I love you," Numair said.
"Love – you – too." Her words were struggled. Quickly Numair sent a mind message to Alanna and Jon, telling them that she was conscious. They wouldn't want to miss it. In the six minutes that it took everyone (Alanna and Jon had rounded everyone up) to reach her ward, Numair just held her hand and rubbed it. Her fingers were like ice. But just before the party reached the infirmary doors, Numair pressed his mouth to hers. A passion only shared by the deepest of lovers erupted in their hearts as Daine returned the action; Numair kissed his student, his friend, his love, perhaps for the last time.
The next hour was spent conversing. Daine suddenly felt energized, as if she was almost well again. The group joked and talked of what they would do once Daine was up. She would continue to train the riders, of course, and a small party was to be thrown in her honor. After all, she was the Wildmage. Daine was sitting up, ignoring her friends' protests. She wanted to talk.
She spoke with Alanna, Jon, George (he was visiting court), Thayet, Buri, Sarge, Onua, Raoul, Neal, and most of all Numair. Oh, how she loved him. He didn't look well, and she guessed it was from doing nothing but sitting up with her. Now that she was well, he could sleep again. She even forgot how close the Dark God had felt to her. Life would go back to normal –
In an instant, the energy that had strengthened her dissipated. She fell against the pillows with a surprised cry. Her friends rushed forward to her aid.
"Daine? Daine? What's the matter? Are you okay? Daine? Get a healer! Someone get Duke Baird! Daine, can you hear me?" All of this came as a rush; her friends' voices morphed into voices not their own. They sounded deepened and slow. The room spun many times as Daine held on to consciousness. It was just slipping from her grasp as Duke Baird came rushing in. This was too serious for Neal or Alanna to handle, as they were helplessly worn out from previous healing.
Duke Baird's wrinkled hands grasped hers and fire filled her. The Dark God was close now, very close. He was very inviting; all the pain would go away if she followed him. She started to reach out a hand as another thought passed through her mind. Numair, Alanna, Onua, and the others. She needed them. They were a part of her life; they had accepted her when her hometown had not. They were her true friends. Then she cried out as she felt unbearably hot fire wrench her heart.
She looked up and saw Numair bent over her, Alanna trying to pull him away, and Neal helping Baird to revive her heartbeat. Duke Bair sent everyone but Neal and Numair from the room; he needed Neal's help and knew it was useless to try and remove Numair. Neal rushed from the room to call other healers and to get herbal healing teas from the storage closet.
"Daine, it is time to go now. The strength your animal friends gave you as a gift was a last triumph. Come join your elders in the Realms of the Gods." The Dark God reached out to her, beckoning. Daine knew she was way too far gone.
"Let me go," she whispered. "You're just wasting your strength." Duke Baird nodded, leaving swiftly. He too knew it was useless.
"No!" Numair cried. "Daine, don't go! Don't leave me here! Don't go where I can't follow!" He collapsed against her, sobbing. (A/N: did you notice the line from LOTR?) Arms circling her too-thin body, he held her, refusing to give his love to the Dark God. Yet the god did appear, taking the last breath from Daine's body. Her soul escaped the frame. Daine came to kiss Numair's despairing lips once more. She then turned to follow this god.
"No." Numair's voice was a deep growl. "You can't have her." Daine spun, along with the Dark God. Numair gathered black fire in his palm. The god just stood there, his fingertips pressed together in a triangle.
"Numair, don't! I am out of pain here! I can live with my parents. I will wait for you in the Realms. I love you, and as my one true love, you will live there with me once you pass on. Please don't grieve for me. Be happy that I was able to love and be loved. I love you." The pain that wrenched Numair's face pitifully would have killed Daine if she was, well, still alive. She and the god vanished, leaving Numair behind.
The rest of Daine's friends entered to find a hysterical Numair clinging to a lifeless Veralidaine Sarrasri, the Wildmage…