The Springborn

CALDER

Y onaz leans heavily on me as we scale the stairs to the second floor after dinner. He would not make it up alone, no matter that he spent most of the day simply sitting on the carriage seat. His skin is sallow, his eyes glassy. I would almost believe he suffers from Sparrow’s condition, for he seems to have aged a decade in a week.

He did a good job of hiding his poor health while Sabella and Sparrow were with us earlier. He coughed a few times during the meal and his voice was rough and gravelly, but he also told a few stories and managed to eat everything on his plate. Perhaps he should have pursued a career as an actor.

“Have you given any more consideration to the idea of sending for Delphine?” I ask him as we pause for him to catch his breath. “She knows a great deal about magic, does she not? Maybe she has a recipe to improve your health.”

His grip tightens on my arm and he says hoarsely, “We must not summon her. Promise me you will not, no matter how ill I become.”

I stare at him like he’s grown an extra head. “What? She’s your partner. Your wife, practically speaking. You’ve always said she was your true love.”

“There are things I cannot share with you. She has set a guard over my mouth. I can only caution you to be wary…and beseech you not to send for her.” His black-rimmed eyes bore into mine.

“I won’t send for her,” I say. He is too ill to be argued with, and besides, I respect him as if he were my father.

He exhales with relief and his fingers loosen their grip on my arm. “Good lad.”

It takes another five minutes to reach the top of the staircase, and five more to get him into his room and onto the bed. When he lies down and shuts his eyes, he makes a good approximation of a corpse. I wish I hadn’t promised not to send for Delphine, for I do not think he will recover without her aid.

As I’m leaving the room, his voice follows after me. “Be wary, Calder.”

“I will,” I reply. But it would be easier if I knew why.