Kerr stammered uselessly for a moment, gaping as his sister took the boy's hand. "Amalie, you shouldn't touch him," he hissed.
She looked up, lower lip protruding as she pouted. "What if he's in a coma?" she asked, raising her eyebrows high. "We can't just leave him here."
"He is not in a coma," Kerr replied, shaking his head at her. He'd forgotten her melodramatic side, somewhere along the actual drama that had followed them this month.
"How do you know?"
"I... he's not our problem, Amalie," Kerr said gently. "And if you want to find a place to sleep, we better do it quickly. We only have a few hours, at best."
She shook her head, stubbornly curling into the sick boy's side, and Kerr wondered where his shy little girl had gone. He did remember this about her though, back from they went to school. Amalie had always been quiet, pleased to fade into the scenery, until someone needier than her came along. Kerr nearly smiled, in spite of everything, realizing what a puzzling person she was. There were so many things he'd forgotten about her little quirks, due to the recent stress they'd encountered. In his way, he was glad for this excuse to remember them.
"You could get sick," he insisted, trying to pull her away from him.
"Ekkshuh!"
Two pairs of eyes returned to the boy's face. His eyelashes fluttered like birds wings, beating against his cheeks as his eyelids struggled to pull shut completely. His thick, red lips had parted, a hitching sound coming from the small space them. "Heh... heh... heh'heh..." The long, dark lashes continued to beat his skin, pulling desperately against his lids. "Heh'kshoo!" They finally succeeded.
"Bless you," Amalie amended, out of habit.
Unable to help it, Kerr rolled his eyes. "He can't hear you, Amalie."
"You don't know that."
"Well, it's not as if he's awake."
Amalie frowned, sitting up. She placed her small hands on the boy's arm. "You can't sneeze when you're asleep, can you?"
"Well, I don't think he's exactly awake..."
Again, they stared at the boy. At a closer glance, it was clear he was shuddering, shivering against the freezing cold. "Aw, look," Amalie said sadly. "He's soaked. He must have gotten caught in the rain, like us." She glared at her brother on the last word, and he shook his head, mystified. Was this really the timid little girl who'd was so afraid, so unable to bear this life of theirs? She'd been bloated with courage, it seemed, and he couldn't make sense of what had done it.
"That's not rain," Kerr said, crouching down beside the two of them. "That's sweat. Look." He brushed the very edge of his finger against the boy's forehead, drawing the sticky beads away. "He's burning," he muttered.
"Oh no," Amalie replied, almost comical in her panicked state. "He has a fever?" She bent over the boy, placing her ear against his chest. "He's still breathing, at least," she commented, relieved.
Kerr bit his lip, so tempted to tease her like he'd done when they were younger. "You didn't notice that with the sneezing and loud breathing?"
"Oh yeah, he is breathing loudly, isn't he?" Amalie asked, ignoring the jibe.
"Well, that's what colds do to you," Kerr replied.
"Hey," Amalie said, rising and placing her hands on her hips. "If it's only a cold, why wouldn't you let me touch him?"
Kerr sighed, the last of his patience dribbling down the drain. "I don't know if it's a cold, okay? You shouldn't touch him, just in case," he said slowly, emphasizing every word.
"Huhkshuhh," the boy sneezed softly, a shower of spray hitting his muddy, rain-soaked shirt. His eyelids remained closed over, the skin around them pinched in agitation. Even in his sleep - or whatever this semi-conscious state was - he looked miserable. His skin seemed pull backwards, almost, tenderly pink nostrils twitching desperate for release. "Hukshoo! Kushhuh! Kshoo!" They burst straight forth from his mouth, lips opening and closing automatically as if mechanical. Saliva trickled down his chin, and Amalie moved to wipe it with her sleeve as his breath began to hitch again. She paused, waiting for him to be finished. "Huhhh..hehh'hehh..." All his air tightened its hinges, shrinking and squirming somewhere between his chest and lips. Each hitch sounded like a panicked, terrified gasp. "Hehh'shoo!"
"Do not wipe his nose Amalie," Kerr said, eyes narrowing with a stony authority. She had moved forward again, reaching for his moistened face.
"Well, what do you want us to do?" she asked, her voice rising. Kerr glanced around, nervous they'd be heard (and promptly ignoring his earlier outburst), but the trees covered them in an illusion of safety. "We can't just leave him here!"
"Why not? Amalie! He isn't our responsibility!"
She looked furious, arms flailing backward as she exploded. "So you just want to leave him here? He's sick, Kerr! He could die!" Her eyes were wide, beseeching him, and he looked away to avoid their power.
"Amalie, you don't even know who he is!" With a vivid pop, his mind plunged back through a memory. She'd been eight, he fourteen, and she had found a wounded dog. She'd wanted to keep it, heal it, and she and her mother had had this exact same argument. Of course, it ended up being moot anyway, due to Kerr's allergies, but still. After all these years, Amalie had retained her desire to cure the sick. With wry dread to their current situation, he wondered if they'd make money best if she became a doctor.
"You don't care about anyone but yourself Kerr!" Amalie screamed, as loudly as her lungs would allow. She knew perfectly well, and with a heavy-handed pang of guilt, that this was untrue.
"Of course I do! That's why -" Kerr's voice was so loud, they barely heard the whimper that interrupted them.
Amalie turned and dropped to her knees, peering over at the boy's face. Slowly, very slowly, his eyelids peeled back from her face. They must be sore from all that sneezing, Amalie thought, her young imagination wild.
Now that they were open, it was clear the boy's eyes were a stormy gray. They matched his nose, a rim of pink, irritated skin around their edges. He sniffled noisily, went a mortified shade of crimson, and then tried to sit up. "Who... are you?" he asked, his voice barely stronger than a croak.
Amalie rushed to his side, her hands going to his his forehead. If possible, he went a darker shade of red. "I'm - "
"We're just travelers," Kerr interrupted, preventing her from supplying her real name. "We found you here."
"You're sick," Amalie said, as if he was unaware.
"I know," he muttered. He seemed to realize he'd been sneezing in his sleep, and turned away to wipe his nose and chin. When he turned back, his eyes were decidedly focused on the mud floor.
"What happened to you?" Amalie asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
"I - " For a moment, he seemed to debate the idea of telling them, and then he went ahead with it. "I was trying to find my way home," he said, speaking in the slow, careful sort of manner that indicated he was hiding something.
"Oh. Well, how did you end up here?"
"I..." he ran a hand through his thick, black locks, looking thoroughly horrified by it's dirt-filled state. "They'd kidnapped me, the Hunters, and... I don't know," he shook his head, clearing his throat. "I guess I must have been sick when I escaped? I'm not sure. Well, I was trying to get home and - " he stopped abruptly, to cough. They sounded more like rumbles though, deep and filled with the moistures in his chest. On the last one, he paused, face going nearly blank. "Hehh..." he bent at the spine, his flaring nostrils going to his cupped hands. "Hehkkshoo!" Once again, he looked horrified. "Sorry," he murmured.
Amalie cocked her head, confused. "It's okay," she replied cheerfully, "Go on." Kerr was listening too now, ever since the comment about the Hunters.
"Anyway, it started to rain," he continued. He sounded more deeply congested now, throwing off the sound of a few of his words. "And... I don't know. I was pretty soaked by the time I hid here." He shifted positions, then grimaced and gripped his head.
"You have a fever," Amalie said quietly. She scooted over by his head, laying her palm flat against his forehead. He looked apprehensive for a moment, then relaxed when he realized she didn't mind.
All at once, Kerr's desires to keep the boy at a distance seemed to disappear. The Hunters comment had hooked him, apparently, and Amalie secretly wondered if it was because he felt lonely as well. They had each other, it was true, but sometimes that was all the worse. If they were to lose one another, ever, they would be all alone. It felt refreshing to see someone - anyone - else.
"We're running from the Hunters too," he replied. "Are..." he bit his lip, rushing into the next words. "Are you a vision-child too?"
"A vision-child?" he gaped, startled. Precognitives were rare; he had thought the Hunters destroyed nearly every one of them. "You're... the two of you are vision child?" He looked from one to the other, eyes frantic with surprise. He was so distracted, he just barely managed to stifle the sudden sneeze. "Heh'ghnt!" His fist seemed to snatch it away, his graceful features returning from their crumpled position.
"Was that a sneeze?" Amalie asked.
"Uh... yeah," the boy answered, unsure whether which embarrassed him more: the sneeze or his constantly red cheeks.
"Oh, then bless you," she said, contentedly stroking his hair. He bit his lip, realizing for the first time that she was easily several years younger than he.
"Anyway, are you a vision-child?" Kerr interjected.
"No... I'm..." he hesitated, eventually deciding to give in and tell them. After all, revealing to be one of the prophecy keepers was a big deal; they could easily die, if he ever told his family. The thought of it, of destroying the innocent girl who cared for him with such affection, made his stomach nearly as sick as his nose and throat. "I live up at Ereshirk." He waited for their reactions with silent anticipation.
Amalie gasped; Kerr merely stared. "You're... a prince?" he asked.
Chapter Three
