Folding the Sky

-31-

Night settled over Sinje like a warm blanket: muffling the noise, snuffing out the lights. The crowd in Aldric's hospital room was thinning, slowly. Always overenthusiastic Chike and Zuri were the first to step out, going to do some reconnaissance, as they said, which made very little sense to Jem. She doubted asking a bunch of strangers about Schmitt was going to do something, but the two of them were restless, and with that much she could sympathize.

Kalindi went next. For a while, as Aldric drifted back to sleep, she sat in the corner with a cup of coffee that quickly grew cold. Jem watched her sink into a sullen mood, a frown slowly etching across her face like a street artist's live painting. Finally, she slid out into the hall, claiming she was going to find something to eat.

"Let me come with you," Jem said, getting to her feet, three fingers still awkwardly balanced on the nightstand. She glanced at Aldric's sleeping face, and lowered her voice. "We're in a new area. You might get lost, or—"

"Are you insinuating that Naino's Crown Princess is incapable of guiding herself?" Kalindi said, but she'd been smiling, or as close as Kalindi ever got to a smile: a small, upward quirk at one side of her mouth. No teeth. A gentle dimple in her chin. Head tilted so that she almost looked inquisitive. "Really now. Have a bit more faith in me, would you, Jem?"

Jem had scowled. "Come on. Don't leave me here with Frosty. Sleeping people are absolutely no fun."

"We're not here to have fun," Kalindi said gently. Her lips formed that smile again, and she brushed Jem's shoulder—her hand lingering a bit longer than was probably necessary—before she was gone.

Now, Jem sat in the near darkness by the window, the silver beam of moonlight that flooded through the glass glinting against the coffee pot, the hand-painted mugs. She sighed, tossing her head back, folding her arms on her stomach. A subtle ache permeated her bones, her body warm and agitated. She could use a shower, she thought. Some time to wash away the day's failures, to clear her head, to grapple with the fact that, when it came down to it, she had no idea where to go from here.

This was something much bigger than herself, bigger than all of them; she could taste it on her tongue, like the bitter sting of a lime rind left in a drink for too long. She could chase it with water, try to rinse the acidity of it from her mouth—but it would still linger there, true and bold enough to drive her mad.

"Jem?"

Jem didn't straighten up, merely turned her head, looking towards the bed. Aldric was awake again, his deep blue eyes encased in a groggy sheen.

"Hey," she said. "Don't worry; you're not in hell. Yet."

"Good to know," Aldric mumbled, his gaze tracing the ceiling. "Are we alone?"

Jem paused. "You mean you kept me around this long just to kill me now? I'm hurt, Frosty. I thought we were friends."

"Look at me. I think you're safe for now," he replied, and though Jem started to laugh, the mirth of the moment died quickly when Aldric let out a series of ugly coughs, ones that rattled his whole frame and scrunched pain into his face. Jem was on her feet in a second, pressing a cup of water into his hands.

He sipped it timidly, fingers trembling around the cold glass. Jem watched him like a hawk. "You okay?"

"Fine," he said, nudging the glass away. When Jem continued staring at him, he said, "Seriously, Jem, I'm fine. Can you stop looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like...I don't know, exactly. Like I'm dying."

Jem frowned. "Do you blame me for being worried? You're useful, Frosty. This whole mission or whatchamacallit would be a lot more difficult if you weren't here."