Chapter 26

Everything is convoluted.

The sky is purple and the grass is red and the trees swirl in the wind. I'm eating a pastry at the table in the kitchen, looking through the open door to the tilted world outside. Mother brushes my flyaways back behind my ear as I kick my feet under the table.

She's smiling, but I can't make out her face through the rain. It's pouring inside the house, soaking the table and floors and walls without touching us. I'm upset, but I don't remember why.

"Go see him," she tells me.

I brush the crumbs from my hands and get up to walk toward the doorway. The rain disappears when I step outside, the sky a deep shade of plum as the sun dips over the horizon. I reach for the pail on the stoop when I spot it. The one thing that's crystal clear in my mind, like it's been plucked from another world: a crown of wildflowers sits on top of the pail. I reach for it…

And I jolt awake.

The sky and trees looming overhead are back to normal shades of greens and blues. My stomach rebels, and I groan as I roll onto my side, hacking up what little remnants there are.

Acker comes into view as he kneels beside me, face pinched with worry as he pushes my hair away from my face. "How do you feel? "

Like shit.

I retch again. His lips thin as he takes in my appearance, holding the waterskin to my mouth so I can drink.

The ground rolls like the sea beneath me. "Why is the ground moving?" I say, voice weak.

"It's not. The saigon root I gave you can cause fever dreams, sometimes hallucinations. I was hoping to give you enough to sleep through most of the pain, but you burned through it quicker than I thought you would."

Yay me.

I have a spotty recollection of Acker shuffling me from one area to another, but I have no sense of time or place. The trees all look the same. The sky is clear, so it must be midday. The sharp edge of pain isn't as prevalent.

"The pain," I say. "It's better." Not gone, but no longer eating me alive.

Acker looks at me, skeptical. "You look terrible."

I huff out a broken laugh. "Thanks."

I suppose, in comparison to his appearance, I look like I'm on the brink of death. Where the land seems to have sucked the life out of me, it breathed new vigor into Acker. The hair falling onto his brow seems to be shinier, eyes brighter, shoulders…wider? I swear his skin is glowing.

"We can't stay here for much longer. The boat ended up capsizing south of here. It's drawn attention to the area. We're going to have to travel further inland than I'd like."

Blue lands on his shoulder, and I really must be hallucinating because he fluffs his feathers and chirps, settling in like they're not mortal enemies .

"He's been keeping a perimeter, checking for rebels."

The bird hops off his shoulder and onto the ground, chasing a beetle between the leaves. Our safety is in great hands, I see. Great feathers. Whatever.

Acker reaches into the pack and tears off more leaves, holding them up to my mouth.

I shake my head. "I can wait it out."

"There's no sense in you suffering for the hell of it."

I dig my fingers into the soil at my sides, resistant to the offering in his hand. But even in my fingertips, I'm made all too aware of how feeble I am. I despise this, hate being the weakest link. Blue is more helpful than I am right now. When Acker threatens to shove the leaves down my throat, I shoot daggers at him with my eyes, but he only lifts a brow in response.

"Try me," he dares.

I open my mouth, and he feeds the torn pieces onto my tongue. I use what little energy I have to snap my teeth down as hard as I can despite the slice of pain it ignites behind my eyes. He jerks back, but not quick enough, and I'm able to nip the tip of a finger. He hisses, returning my stare with a vengeance.

Hand braced on the ground beside my head, his anger morphs into a cunning smile. Like a snake in the water, smooth and precise.

"Sweet dreams," he says, eyes alight.

Maybe pissing him off when I'm on the verge of losing consciousness wasn't a good idea, but I fall asleep without an ounce of worry or fear for my safety.