Chapter IX

I fell asleep immediately after lying down and for once there were no dreams. Well, not any visual dreams anyway. All night I heard strange voices in the darkness of sleep, voices I knew but had forgotten, voices that knew me and remembered. All night long I heard them, arguing, shouting, laughing, taunting, begging, screaming, wailing. And all night long two voices repeated the same things over and over in the caliginous gloom:

"Only you can save us all. You must return."

"You are nothing! We shall destroy you!"

I decidedly did not like the second voice and very much liked the first. It was soft and gentle with an unplaceable accent, and managed to convey urgency without sounding desperate. The most maddening thing about the whole damned situation was that I knew these voices and yet I couldn't place them. I was sure that I would slap myself in the head when I found out who they belonged to, but in the meantime I was tearing my hair out.

Relief came at around six in the morning when Mom, Dad, and Daman came in to say good-bye before they left for North Carolina where Daman went to college. I got up and watched them leave from my observatory before going back to sleep for a few hours. I woke again at about ten-thirty and got up. The day passed uneventfully. I did some housework, played with Fenrir, went for a long ride in the woods with Nytemare, and wrote some stories. Midway through an original fiction based on a strange dream I had had a while ago, I got a great idea. I decided to watch all three "Lord of the Rings" extended movies together. I had always wanted to, and now I had the opportunity. It was late, so I heated up the special dinner Mom had left for me – tilapia with lemon-butter sauce and capers, my favourite – and settled myself in the den to watch. The fish tasted a little funny, but I just put it down to a little too much lemon juice in the sauce and ignored it. I managed to get through all of "Fellowship of the Ring" before I started feeling strange, and not in a good way. I was getting really hot, even though the sliding glass door was open with the screen door closed to let in the cool night air, hoping it would make me feel better. No such luck. My head was spinning and I felt nauseas, feverish and groggy. I wondered if the tilapia had gone bad or something. I got my answer soon enough. I'm just thankful I managed to make it to the hall bathroom before my stomach turned itself inside out.

I don't know how long I stayed there 'praying to the porcelain god', to put it as tastefully as possible, but it was long enough to make me vow never to eat again. I didn't mean it and I knew that, but that's just the kind of thing you find yourself saying in these situations.

Bile stung my throat and the roof of my mouth as my emptied stomach started pumping out stomach acid, having nothing else left. Everything was spinning all around me when I finally stopped and managed to get up. I could hardly stand. The room moved when I moved, the floor bouncing up and down with every step I took like one of those inflatable Bounce-Arounds that you see at little kids' parties. There was a bright red film in front of everything I saw, making me even dizzier. I stumbled down the hall, trying to make it to the stairs up to my room. The hallway lurched forwards and the ground rushed up to meet me. It actually took me a moment to realize I had collapsed. I groaned and turned on my back, staring up at the ceiling. Light from the full moon washed over me through the huge windows along the winding stairs. The moon was beautiful that night, an orb of silver glass nestled in a bed of black velvet.

"Oh…" I said softly and without meaning to. "Oh, I thought it was real." I wondered what I meant, then just tried not to think about it. All of a sudden, my notes from Convenience Foods class on food-related illnesses came rushing back to me in Mrs. Hults's voice:

"The worst kinds of food poisoning are salmonella, E. coli, botulism, and toxoplasma. Salmonella is usually transmitted through raw eggs, which is why I don't want any of you eating raw cooky dough, and undercooked or contaminated meats. Often it requires hospitalization, and the symptoms include nausea, vomiting, fever, diarrhea, and abdominal cramps."

I groaned. The tilapia. Something was wrong with the tilapia, and now I had food poisoning and possibly salmonella. I knew I should call my parents, much good may it do me, but I couldn't even get up off the floor, my stomach hurt so badly. I actually looked down to see if there were knives stuck in me. That's what it felt like. I closed my eyes, trying to think about anything other than the pain and sickness I felt. It was difficult, as the pain was very strong. No matter what thoughts I conjured up to block it out, it always came rushing back full force. I heard a strange sort of whining noise, and then I realized it was me. I bit my lower lip so hard it started to bleed freely, blood mixing with bile in my mouth and burning down my throat. I gagged, but couldn't do anything about it.

The grandfather clock down the hall struck eight-thirty (yes, our clock strikes on the half hour too). I had been lying here for at least twenty minutes without even realizing it. Then I realized something else: Fenrir was nowhere near. That was strange, as he always knew when I was sick and came to me immediately. I started to call him, but then I heard a rustling sound off to my left. I assumed it was Fen and didn't say anything.

"What in Perdition happened to you?"

I froze. Dogs – and wolves – do not speak in human voices…do they? Well, I've never heard one before, and I think that if Fenrir could speak he would have by now. But there was no one else in the house but me. So who was in my house and how did they get there? And why did I know that voice…?

I felt a cold, somewhat rough hand brush my bare arm and shivered, trying to pull away. Unfortunately, even such a slight movement caused daggers of pain to impale my stomach again. I cried out, squeezing my eyes shut tighter.

"Be still, I'm not going to hurt you."

That voice…I knew I knew that voice, and I knew that the answer was so obvious, but I still couldn't figure it out. There was only one way to know. Slowly I forced my eyes open again, trying to discern something, anything, through the redness. Though I couldn't make out his features very well, I saw a dark-haired man kneeling next to me, a cowl wrapped around the lower half of his face. He said nothing, just held out his hands over me.

"Wait, what are you…" I began hoarsely, but I didn't get the chance to finish. An alien, but not unpleasant, warmth was spreading through me, taking away the pain and purging the illness. I drew in a long deep breath and let it out in an equally long sigh. The sickness was gone, leaving me feeling only a little tired and hungry. The redness was gone from my vision, but everything seemed darker all of a sudden, as though the moon had gone out. The figure next to me nodded to himself in satisfaction, shifted his position, and reached for me again, lifting me up in his arms. I felt a thrill go through me, a frightened sort of excitement. There was something about this man that made me feel safe, somehow. I couldn't even explain it to myself, but I felt like everything would be all right as long as he was near me. I tried to get a better look at his features, but the room suddenly began to spin around us, though we weren't moving. I made a funny sound and closed my eyes. When I opened them a moment later, we were standing next to my bed. The curtains opened by themselves and the figure laid me down on my bed. I looked up at him curiously, wondering what he was doing, what he was going to do. He placed one hand on my forehead.

"Sleep," he said softly, and instantly fatigue filled me. I struggled to hold on to consciousness just for a moment longer, trying to figure out why I knew this man, why he apparently knew me. But sleep was taking hold of me quickly. My hand moved across the bed, reaching out to him. Though I couldn't see his mouth, I could swear he was smiling as he placed his hand over mine. It was then that I noticed something rather off-putting. I tried to speak, but only managed to get two words out:

"Rakkalepta(1) Fea-Mat(2)." Then darkness consumed my vision and I knew no more.

Elvish- (1) claw-fingered

(2) lit. spirit-eat(er)