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CHAPTER 14

The Venture had made an uneventful if crowded journey to Marbelly, and discharged their grateful passengers. They set out again on the long leg to Na’kalauf.

On the evening watch of the third day, the captain and Leewit both became aware of the distant drumming vibration of the Egger Route. The captain wasn’t sure if people who were not Karres witches even felt it. But both of them hastily grabbed things to cushion the incoming person.

The captain desperately hoped it would be Goth. Nothing, he realized, could make him happier.

But when it was, and he saw her face, the happiness was erased by fear. She looked as if she were dead. She lay there, flaccid, eyes open but glazed as they tore the fabric around her away. The captain felt frantically for a heartbeat, but just felt the faint vibration of the Egger Route. The Leewit, however, was already busy at what she did best. With great effort, Pausert pulled his hand from Goth and put it on the Leewit’s shoulder, willing himself to lend her his klatha strength. To the last drop, if need be. He deliberately didn’t say or do anything to distract her, until she stood up.

“Is she dead?” he asked, full of despair and rage at himself for letting her go without him.

“Huh? No,” said the Leewit. “Just let’s take her to a bunk. This is going to take a while.”

Pausert felt his knees almost buckle. He thought if he was going to fall over with relief, it might as well be next to Goth. He knelt down next to her. She was no less pale and her eyes were still open and unseeing. “But I couldn’t feel her heart.”

“It’s beating. Just fast and shallowly. Pick her up, Captain, or do I need Ta’zara to help you?”

Pausert picked her up as if she were a fragile piece of precious ten-thousand-year-old porcelain. She’d grown a lot from the scrap just entering her teens, which she had been when she came aboard the Venture the first time, although she was still slender. But right now he could have carried her if she were made of lead.

“What is wrong?” he asked as he carried her to her cabin. No one, not even as crowded as they were, had been allowed in there.

“Poison. It’s pretty nasty,” said the Leewit.

“Can you heal her?” he asked desperately.

“I hope so,” growled the Leewit. “But the sooner I get working the better.”

Pausert got Goth onto her bunk at a run. “What can I do?” he asked, full of a terrible helplessness. Right then he’d have given up all his klatha skills, his ship—anything, just to make her well.

“Going to need to cut this cocoon off her. Scissors. And we need to get fluids into her. Tell Ta’zara I need him—I’ll tell him what to prepare. And then you’ll have to lend me your strength again.”

Pausert rushed out to find Ta’zara and scissors. He nearly knocked over Vezzarn. “Take over the helm,” he said briskly. “Where’s Ta’zara?”

“In the mess…” The spaceman never got a chance to finish, before the captain ran off. Ta’zara was in the mess, with Me’a and both of her Na’kalauf bodyguards. “The Leewit wants you. Goth’s cabin!” he said, and turned and ran back, beating Ta’zara by seconds.

They cut the beautiful fabric away from Goth, not caring how magnificent it was. Ta’zara was sent running to the robobutler, and the captain stood and lent his strength. He was rewarded by a blink and the faintest movement of Goth’s mouth, as the Leewit worked her klatha skill.

And then she stopped. To Captain Pausert, Goth looked no better. Yes, he could see a faint rise and fall of her chest and her staring eyes had drooped closed. But she was still ghost-pale and very still. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. “Why did you stop?”

The Leewit sighed, and said, “Because I’ve clumping well done what I can for now.” She sounded much older than her years. That wasn’t the Toll pattern talking, just a really tired Leewit. Pausert was feeling exhausted himself, just letting her draw on his strength.

“But…”

“I can’t just fix it,” said the Leewit. “There are millions of cells involved.”

“But…is she…?” He knew he was pleading for reassurance, scared she could not give it.

“I’ve destroyed the poison. Stabilized her as best as I can. Got her liver producing…what is the word? Enzymes. I’ve done as much as I can. Now…it’s just time. And hoping it’s enough.”

Pausert squeezed her small shoulder. “You’ve done more than you should. I can feel it, little one. Eat. Rest. I’ll sit with her.”

“I want her well as badly as you do, Captain.” There was a catch in the Leewit’s voice.

“I know. Eat and rest now.”

“You need to eat and rest too. I leaned on you a lot there. Drew from you.”

Pausert shook his head. “You send someone with food. I’ll call you if there is any change.”

The Leewit shook her head. “Going to have to get some more fluid into her. In through the veins, if need be. I’ve never done that before. Got to learn.”

“I have, mistress,” said Ta’zara. “We are trained in battlefield medicine. I have brought the drinks you ordered. Also the ship’s medical kit. It has intravenous drip kits.” He looked at Goth. “Finding a vein will be hard.”

The Leewit nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “I need to drink some high-energy fluid myself. Then I will direct you.” That was the Toll pattern speaking, through the Leewit. “I can feel the needle from the inside of her. I’ll drink the drink you brought me for Goth.”

A few minutes later the Leewit sat with her hand on Goth’s arm—with a temporary tourniquet made with some of the fabric, and gave Ta’zara instructions. Pausert noticed she had gritted teeth through a lot of it. But they got a drop of dark red blood out of the needle and were able to take off the tourniquet and to hook up the drip bag.

“Phew. That was the clumping horriblest,” said the Leewit, rubbing her own arm. “I had to open up and feel that needle. Now I am going to get a big stack of pancakes and Wintenberry jelly. I’ll send some up for you, Captain. I hope we don’t need the Sheewash Drive, because I don’t think I could push a noodle, never mind the Venture.”

“I hate to ask, Leewit. But…should I try the Egger Route to Karres with Goth?”

The Leewit shook her head. “Kill her for sure. That’s why she’s in such bad shape. Mind you, it was going to kill her anyway. The ionization burn was pretty minor, even if it says someone tried to shoot her. But that was not all by a long way. She had to take the Egger Route. That was a nasty poison that she got into her. Came in through that little wound on her neck. That’s going to scar badly. It has killed quite a lot of the tissue.”

“Someone is going to be very sorry for this,” said Pausert, between gritted teeth.

“If they did this to Goth, they probably already are,” said the Leewit. “Or you and me can take it in turns. Being a healer is teaching me some really nasty whistles. Bust them up inside.”

That was an aspect of the Leewit’s klatha healing skills that the captain had never thought about. Anyone who could stop you dying could probably make you wish you were dead.

Pausert sat in the cabin with Goth through the entire night-watch. His only comfort was that she was warm, had a pulse and was breathing. Ta’zara brought food. The Leewit came and put her hands on Goth—and curled up on the chair and catnapped. The little rochat slipped out of her collar and glided onto the bed, before Pausert could stop it. It sniffed curiously at Goth—well, not so much at her as at the remains of the fabric she’d been wrapped in. It ignored Pausert trying to quietly chase it away, and snuggled in next to Goth. Pausert couldn’t see what harm it was doing, so he left it be. The Leewit didn’t sleep for long, but woke and checked Goth again. She looked unusually grim and worried.

“What is going on?” he asked. “Is it getting worse?”

“Not really. It’s…she’s not really winning…or really losing. The fluids have helped. She seems to have a secondary infection of some sort too.”

“Can you deal with it?”

The Leewit shook her head. “I was going to, and I can. But that’d be cleared through her liver. That’s got enough to cope with right now. And it is giving her a fever, which means the poison isn’t working as well as it could. I should have thought of that.”

“Your rochat has taken a liking to her,” said Pausert, pointing to the creature’s nose, just visible next to Goth.

“Little pest,” said the Leewit. “Runs off and leaves me for somewhere warmer. They’re like that, Captain. She’s feverish, so she’s hotter’n me.”

“So what do we do now?” asked Pausert, feeling terribly helpless.

“More IV fluids, more watching and waiting. If she loses any more ground I’m going to have to dismind her and put her in deep-tran. You remember. Like Olimy when he had the encounter with Moander.”

Too well did Pausert remember. The Karres agent had survived, but it had needed all the skills of a team of Karres healers to see that it happened—and Pausert knew that it had been touch and go.

Waiting and watching was hard. But by the time the second IV drip was nearly done, Pausert had some relief at least, seeing Goth move. She was trying to burrow deeper under the covers. He felt her forehead and it was hot—so he woke the Leewit. “Sorry,” he said, as she yawned. “But she’s feeling really feverish to me. It is temperature-controlled in here, and she’s acting really cold.”

“Cold,” said Goth, in a tiny weak voice, so quiet it could barely be heard.

“We’ll get you something warm,” said Pausert. “Just lie still.”

“Captain?” she said, blinking. “Can’t see properly.”

Pausert squeezed her hot little hand. “It’s me. You’re safe back on the Venture.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, keeping his voice calm, somehow.

He was rewarded by a faint squeeze from her hand. She was shivering. “Right,” said the Leewit. “Time to do some more.”

“Leewit?”

“Yeah. It’s me, big sister. Now shut up and let me work. My turn to say that to you now.” The Leewit’s voice cracked slightly, but her hands were steady.

The next few days would forever feature in Pausert’s memory as a long, grim, terrifying blur. Fortunately, they were in an area of space that made little demand on his ship-handling. But it was three days later that the Leewit, having been called by the captain because Goth was sweating buckets, put her hands on Goth and started to cry, tears streaming down her face. Pausert went through a moment of utter horror…and then realized the littlest witch of Karres was smiling. “We’ve clumping done it, Captain. She’s turned the corner.”

The relief left him weak at the knees. “Why is she sweating like that?”

“Fever breaking. We can change her sheets soon, and make her comfortable. She’s going to sleep for a fair while.” She looked at him. “And so are you.”

“I want to be here if she wakes. I’ve slept often enough in the command chair.”

The Leewit looked hard at him. “You’ll go to bed now, or I’ll have Ta’zara drag and tie you there. She’ll sleep now for at least twelve hours. I’ve seen to that.”

The captain yawned. “Wake me in ten, then. I have some ship and astrogation chores I had better see to.”

“Wake yourself,” said the Leewit, with a shadow of her usual impish grin. She yawned too. “I’m going to get Ta’zara to give me a hand with the sheets and go and crash onto my bunk. And sleep until I wake up.”

The Leewit had been rigid about being woken every two hours to check, and had only slept because the Toll teaching pattern let her know it was essential. That was enough to send the captain to his own bunk, only stopping to pass the order to wake him on to Vezzarn.

He woke before being called, and went via Goth’s cabin to the bridge. She was sleeping peacefully, with none of the tossing and turning discomfort he’d seen for the last few days. Her forehead was cool to a careful touch, and, though she was still ghost pale, there was just a hint of color about her cheeks. He went down to the bridge whistling—only to stop suddenly, because the command chair was occupied by Me’a.

“Is there something I should know about you taking control of my ship?” he asked.

“Other than the fact I have a spaceman’s ticket, and Vezzarn also needs to sleep, no,” said Me’a. “I assume by the whistling, that there is some improvement in your new arrival?”

“Yes.” The captain realized that Me’a would likely have known that Goth wasn’t actually on board when they left Cinderby’s World. “But that is Karres business, Me’a.”

“I feel that if Sedmon of the Six Lives doesn’t know that the Karres witches don’t actually need spaceships to travel, he doesn’t need to know. Although it doesn’t seem to leave the user in a good state.”

Pausert opened his mouth to explain, realized she was fishing, and smiled. “I’ll need to do some astrogation checks. You can stay there. Seeing as you’re available and qualified I may as well use you.”

He checked their course, checked the fuel levels, and ran a few checks on the telltales in the engines. The Venture was running as smoothly as if new, rather than having been built generations ago. He patted the old pirate chaser’s console affectionately.

“She’s a good ship,” said Me’a. “A lot faster than she looks, and well cared for.”

They were words that were music to the captain’s ears. “Flattery, Me’a. What do you want?”

She laughed. “You’ve been taught well, Captain. To satisfy my curiosity, of course. But I don’t think I will get the answers I want.”

“Not likely. I haven’t got them,” said Pausert, standing up. “If you need me, I’ll be in Goth’s cabin. Page me.”

She nodded. “That does at least answer one of my questions, Captain. I had wondered, given the briefing I was sent from Uldune.”

Pausert decided to go while he was at least leaving her wondering about some things.

Goth was still asleep when he’d gotten to her cabin and she stayed that way until after the Leewit arrived. “Huh. Goth, you lazybones,” said the Leewit, wiping the last of her breakfast off her chin. That was enough of a change in way she’d treated her older sister from the last few days, enough of a return to normal to help the captain relax a bit. The Leewit put her hand inside the covers and onto Goth’s neck.

Goth tried to burrow away from it. “Get your cold, sticky hand from off me,” she said, sounding at least something like her usual self.

In reply, the Leewit simply pulled the covers off her head. For a moment Goth looked daggers at her, and then caught sight of Pausert, and started smiling and reaching out a hand. The captain knelt down next to her, took it and gave it a squeeze, his voice too choked up to say anything.

“The two of you look like stunned breadfish,” said the Leewit in disgust. “And I’ll have my rochat back, you pet thief.” She stuck her hand under the cover and emerged with the lithe creature, which she popped into her shirt.

The captain finally managed to find his tongue. “I’ve missed you,” he said. “So much.” It wasn’t his best speech, but Goth seemed to like it a lot, because she struggled up enough to try and hug him.

“I didn’t know if I’d see you again, Captain,” she said in his ear.

“You’re safe now, little one.”

“Not sure if I am. I got poisoned.”

“You sure did,” said the Leewit. “Me and the captain are going to have a little meeting with whoever did that.”

Goth shook her head. “I don’t think they meant to.”

“Going to teach them to be more careful then,” said the Leewit. “You worried me stiff. And it’s your job looking after the captain, not mine. I’m not doing any more of this ‘responsible’ stuff. Now lie down. You’re getting better, but you’re as weak as a newborn bollem. An’ I don’t want my work undone.”

Pausert gently put her down. “She kept you alive, Goth. I think for now you better listen to her,” he said, his heart full of happiness. “Even if she doesn’t wash behind her ears unless we tell her to.”

“Do so!” said the Leewit, and blew him a raspberry.

Goth managed a laugh. “I guess it’s not just a great dream. No one could dream anything quite like you, Leewit. You’re right. I do feel pretty weak and battered.”

The Leewit had taken hold of her shoulder again. The captain knew by now she was using touch to “read” her patient. After a moment, she withdrew the hand. “And you’re staying in bed for the next while. We’ll need to feed you up, but kind of slowly. You frightened me, doing that sort of silly stuff. You shouldn’t let her off on her own, Captain.”

“I’m not planning to again, if I can help it,” said Pausert. “Now could you get her something to eat? I’m not sure what will be best.”

“Come to the mess and I’ll tell you what to order from the robobutler,” said the Leewit.

“I’d like to stay with her.”

“You’ll clumping well come and carry it back, and make sure she eats, but not too much. I got stuff to do,” the Leewit informed him.

And in medical matters, she outranked him, Pausert knew. So he went.

Which was the right thing to do because she wanted to talk to him. “She’s made big steps, Captain,” said the Leewit, tucking her arm in his, all the rudeness she’d displayed in Goth’s cabin vanishing. It had probably been an act, Pausert realized. “But you’re to keep her in that bed if you have to tie her to it. She’ll lose ground real easy at this stage. Lots of rest, small meals often, not too rich.”

The Leewit made a face. “I’d hate that, and I expect she will too. Goth’s not good at sitting still. You’re going to have your work cut out for you. She won’t listen to me.”

That was true of the Leewit, too. But as the captain found, not entirely true about Goth’s attitude. She didn’t give him the trouble he expected, and she was inclined to do what the Leewit told her to. “Not normally, see. Just, well, healing is her klatha strength,” admitted Goth.

Goth did sleep a great deal, and it was actually quite hard to get her to eat much. But as the days passed on the trip to Na’kalauf, her appetite seemed to improve. So did the amount of time she spent awake. It took a while for the captain to hear her story—which was probably a good thing, since it gave him a chance to get mad and then at least partly get over it.

“Well, I know where our next destination is,” he’d said, gritting his teeth.

“I don’t think so, Captain,” said Goth, seriously. “I think I need to recover. And I don’t think, after all these years, that a little extra time is going to make any difference. She’s well established and safe. I told her we’d be back, and Pnaden and his thugs aren’t going to be leaving, unless they find the pieces I took out of their ship.”

She was very firm about that. When Goth was very firm, it was really not worth fighting, Pausert knew. She seemed to have a reason she wasn’t telling him, though.


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