“You look like crap,” Eleanor whispered in a rough sore voice.
Will smiled. “You too.”
After several mugs of water, Eleanor felt able to stand again and Will helped her back to the others. All she wanted was to sleep. Freddie watched her return.
“Are you alright?”
Glancing at him, Eleanor shook her head. She felt unconnected, adrift, her mind had failed her and her body was telling her there was danger where none existed. On autopilot she moved to where Conlan slept between Amelia and the unknown man. The stranger looked up at her. He was an older man, his hair mostly grey, with a little of the original brown still present. His body looked strong, fit and muscled, toned sinews standing out on his bare forearms. Speckled green-brown eyes regarded her with interest from under bushy eyebrows, and a friendly smile emanated from his suntanned, weather-beaten face.
“Hello, Eleanor, I am Merl.”
Eleanor smiled back. He reminded her of a grandfather she had barely known.
I can remember a man who died when I was seven, in another life, but I can’t remember what happened a few hours ago! What’s wrong with me?
“Hello,” she replied. “What are you doing here?”
“Merl came to our rescue,” Will said from behind her. “He stopped the men who attacked us. Gregor sent him.”
Eleanor’s eye’s widened in surprise. “Gregor, Conlan’s grandfather?”
Merl nodded, his friendly smile reassuring. “I have worked for Gregor Baydon for many years and I have known Conlan since he was a small child.” He reached a large, gnarled hand to ruffle Conlan’s hair affectionately before returning his sharp, bright eyes to Eleanor. “Gregor has been worried about Conlan since he heard about the earthquake in Nethrus. I have been tracking you for a while. It looks like I found you just in time.”
“Just in time?” Eleanor echoed.
“Do you want to sit next to Conlan?” Merl asked, a concerned frown on his face as Eleanor swayed in front of him. She nodded, smiling again as he shuffled aside, making room. Eleanor dropped down next to Conlan. His skin had the same grey pallor as Will and Amelia’s, but instead of the yellow tinge, his had a soft green look to it.
Green again, that’s important.
He was sleeping peacefully. Lifting his left arm, Eleanor curled up underneath it at his side. If she could hear his heartbeat, could hear him breathe, she would know if he needed her, and she needed the solid comfort of knowing he was there. She reached an arm protectively across Conlan’s chest, rested her head against him and closed her eyes. His presence insulated her from the confusion and fear. She listened to his heart beat in time with hers, calming her – the steady, regular tempo lulling her to sleep.
She woke with a start, eyes snapping open to golden, early evening light. Her thoughts were still full of dragons breathing fire, green swirls spinning through her mind and a danger called Douglas. Conlan’s breathing had changed, and his heart rate was quicker. She lifted her head and turned to look at his face. He smiled at her, eyes glassy.
“You look awful,” he commented, the effort making him cough weakly.
Eleanor smiled back. “You look green,” she replied.
“I think that’s because I really need to throw up,” he moaned. Eleanor understood that feeling and pulled herself up off him, offering him help to sit. As he moved he winced, a hand moving to his right side and rubbing his ribs. “Oooww,” he breathed.
“What?” she asked, concerned. Conlan looked at her, confused, his fingers gingerly moving up and down his side.
“I have a bruise, where did I get that?”
Eleanor felt a flash of guilt, a vague feeling that she had not been able to protect Conlan, she shrugged. “I don’t remember, my memory is like Swiss cheese at the moment.”
Conlan rubbed his side. “‘Swiss’ cheese?”
“Cheese that’s full of holes, I think the stuff in that dart affected my brain,” Eleanor explained, trying to hide just how frightened she was by this concept, as her mind was all she had. Conlan groaned and moved his hand from his side to his stomach.
“Maybe talking about cheese wasn’t the best idea. I really need to throw up.”
With effort Eleanor helped Conlan up and away from the camp towards a group of prickly bushes, where he dropped to his knees and threw up green gloop with stunning effect. Trying not to look, Eleanor rubbed a comforting hand up and down his back. Will appeared at his other side, helping Eleanor to support him and then giving Conlan a damp cloth to clean himself with and water once he had finished. She watched the care with which Will supported Conlan, unconcerned about the mess he was making and interested only in helping him feel better. She felt gentle, warm affection radiating out from her heart.
“Eleanor, you’re going a little green again, you don’t have to stay. I can look after him.”
The noxious odour of green vomit came to her on the light breeze and her stomach squeezed uncomfortably. Conlan began to retch again and Eleanor beat a hasty retreat back to the camp, watching from a safe distance.
“You two are the only ones who have been sick, what was in that bottle? Where did it come from?”
Eleanor jumped at the voice; Merl was stood behind her, watching Conlan with a worried look on his face.
“What bottle?” Eleanor asked.
Merl’s worried look deepened. “You do not remember?”
“I think whatever was on the dart has messed with my memory, as the last thing I remember was Amelia catching a bird and then we were attacked,” Eleanor said, shaking her head.
“You and Conlan were in a bad state when I found you. Will and I tried to suck the poison out, but it had spread too deep. Then you told us about the bottle of green liquid in Conlan’s pocket, a cure you said. It worked, as you both stopped writhing, but it seems to have made you both quite ill,” Merl explained, watching Eleanor’s face carefully.
“I do not remember,” Eleanor whispered. “But I do remember green being important.”
“Do you remember anything else?” Merl prompted, his voice filled with gentle concern. Eleanor thought about it, trying to drag the disjoined corrupted data in her head into a coherent memory. Her mind resisted.
“I have a vague recollection of a dragon, someone called Douglas and that green is important. I think I failed to protect Conlan, but I do not know what I was meant to be protecting him from,” Eleanor said.
Merl smiled sympathetically. “I think your head is rather messed up – there cannot have been dragons, as they do not exist, and Conlan, apart from a little sickness, is fine, so you could not have failed to protect him.”
Eleanor shrugged, not feeling up to telling Merl why his logic was wrong. “Where are Amelia and Freddie?” she asked, glancing around her.
“The other two Avatars went to find us something to eat,” he said. The thought of food made Eleanor’s stomach coil in a very unpleasant fashion, a response compounded when Merl’s words reached through her headache.
“Who told you we were Avatars?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Merl smiled reassuringly, but before he got the chance to reply, Conlan’s voice, astonished disbelief ringing through it, called his name.
“Merl?”
“Hello, Conlan,” Merl said, turning to face him with a wide, happy grin spreading across his face. With Will’s help, Conlan was walking towards the man, giving him a surprised, pleased smile in return. He shook Merl’s hand and the older man pulled him into a strong embrace and patted him on the back like a long-lost son. Confused, Eleanor pushed an energy string out to Will.
Who is this?
Eleanor asked.
Merl claims he was sent by Gregor. I came round to find him trying to help you and Conlan; whatever was in those darts had more of an effect on the two of you than it did on us. Merl claims he killed two of the men who attacked us and chased a third man off. I’ve seen the bodies of the men he killed, the bird was dead, too; one of the men had a blowpipe and some of the darts on him. What happened, where did that bottle of green liquid come from?
Eleanor shook her head.
I really don’t know, my memories are messed up. Something feels wrong, but that could just be my sense of equilibrium. I guess we should be grateful Merl showed up when he did. We knew the enemy was out to get us, and we still fell into their trap… again.
“Is she alright? Her eyes look strange,” Merl said, looking closely at Eleanor.
“She is talking to Will in his head,” Conlan said. Eleanor felt Will’s surprise that Conlan would divulge this information.
“Conlan, is it wise to give Merl information about us?” Will asked in English. “Don’t you think his arrival is a little odd? He claims he saved us from our attackers, but it all seems a bit too much like a coincidence.”
“Will, I’ve known Merl since I was two and I trust him. My grandfather has trusted him for nearly forty years. Can we give him the benefit of the doubt until he’s had the chance to explain?” Conlan asked, sounding mildly irritated.
You don’t think Merl can be trusted?
Eleanor asked.
Actually, Freddie thinks Merl can’t be trusted; I just think we should be careful.
“Is there a problem?” Merl asked as he eyes flicked between Will and Conlan as they spoke.
Conlan smiled at him. “No, could we sit please? I would like to ask you some questions.”
Merl smiled amiably back at him. “Of course, you must feel awful and I am making you stand in this heat. I have questions for you, too.” They walked back to where they had set up camp. The sun was beginning to set, so Will set about lighting a fire. Eleanor half-sat, half-crouched next to Conlan and Merl and listened to them talk.
“What are you doing here?” Conlan asked the older man.
Merl smiled. “Your grandfather sent me. He heard about the earthquake and knew it must be you, or rather her,” he said, nodding in Eleanor’s direction. “I have been tracking you for a while and I caught up with you as those three men were tying your unconscious bodies to your horses. There was a fight, I managed to kill two of them, but the third one got away. Will helped me to bury the ones I killed and their bird too, it attacked me.” He pulled aside his shirt to reveal several long, recently scabbed over bloody claw marks which ran down his chest. “Ruined my favourite shirt,” he grumbled.
“What did the man look like, the one who got away?” Eleanor asked.
“He had black skin, black eyes and black curly hair. He was tall, muscular, good with a sword,” Merl told her, looking a little surprised she had spoken.
“The other two men, the ones you killed, did they look the same?” Eleanor asked, feeling something try to stir in her head. Merl nodded.
I can show you my memories of burying them later, if you want
,
Will offered.
Eleanor nodded.
Thanks.
Giving him a quick smile, she pulled her energy free.
“So how are you? Other than being a little green…” Merl asked with a chuckle.
“I am fine. But why did Gregor send you?” Conlan asked.
“He thought you could do with the help. He knew that if Nethrus was gone, you must have had an altercation with Jarrick, and after what you told him when you visited he was worried you may have been hurt, or worse. Is Jarrick dead?” Merl asked, his eyes moving up and down Conlan’s body as if looking for injuries.
“Yes,” Conlan replied flatly, giving Eleanor a glance she did not understand.
Merl sighed. “I remember him as a child – he was so sweet, he used to follow you around, copy everything you did. How did that turn to such bitter hatred?”
“I let him believe he was not loved,” Conlan said quietly, giving Eleanor another look, but this one she did understand, as his expression was one of pure guilt. Eleanor gasped as she felt the emotional equivalent of his look wash over her; she had not known how badly he was feeling over what he had done to Jarrick.
“Why did you do that?” Merl asked. “I never took you for the callous type.”
Conlan hung his head and sighed. “I thought I was protecting him, I thought if I kept him at a distance our father would ignore him. Apparently he hurt Jarrick anyway, only I left him to deal with it by himself. I made a mistake, one that cost Jarrick his life.”
Horrified, Eleanor shook her head. “No, Conlan, that was my fault,” she said in English.
He raised his head and gazed at her with one of his deep, unfathomable stares. “Whose emotions were you acting on?” he asked softly, the look in his eyes telling her he already knew the answer.
“Yours,” she whispered honestly.
“Daratus has a lot to answer for,” Merl said, employing a deep snarl to indicate he would like to make him pay for his crimes, politely ignoring the conversation Eleanor and Conlan were having. Eleanor’s mind stuttered to a halt.
Daratus… not Douglas… Daratus, Conlan’s father is called Daratus…
Terror pushed Eleanor’s system towards panic, and her heartbeat raced, forcing out her breath in short gasps.
“Eleanor? Are you OK?” Conlan asked in English, moving forward and placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Is she alright? She does not look well,” Merl commented.
“She is terrified,” Conlan said as he held her gaze. She stared back blankly, not understanding where the fear was coming from, and so having no idea how to stop it.
“She just looks ill to me. How can you tell she is terrified?” Merl enquired, moving a little closer so he could study Eleanor’s face.