Chapter 232 - 233: A breakthrough

Chapter 232: Chapter 233: A breakthrough

He leaned into her carefully.

So carefully it hurt.

Swanly hugged him.

His arms came around her only after a second.

Loose.

As if even now he was afraid of taking too much.

She tightened hers.

Nerin finally relaxed.

Not completely.

But enough.

When Swanly returned, Soren was waiting.

Kael was no longer there.

Good.

This needed no audience.

Swanly walked straight up to Soren.

"Being jealous doesn’t give you permission to wound someone who has done nothing but help us."

Soren’s expression gave nothing away.

"He wants you."

"Yes."

That answer surprised him.

Swanly folded her arms.

"I’m not stupid."

Soren’s eyes narrowed.

"And?"

"And wanting me does not mean he deserves cruelty."

"He is getting closer."

"Because I am letting him."

That stopped him.

Swanly stepped closer.

"I choose who gets close to me."

Soren’s tail became still.

"You can be jealous."

His jaw tightened.

"You can hate it."

His pupils narrowed.

"You can come drag me away like an insane snake if you absolutely must."

His mouth almost moved.

"Do not smile."

It stopped.

"But you do not use the softest part of someone against them because you’re angry."

Silence.

Soren looked away.

That was how Swanly knew she had won.

He knew.

That made her angrier.

"You knew exactly what would hurt him."

"Yes."

"Soren."

"I know."

"Then fix it."

His silver eyes returned to hers.

"I dislike apologizing."

"I don’t care."

"I know."

"Good."

She pointed toward the garden.

"Go."

Soren stared at her finger.

Then her.

"You are ordering the ruler of Ironwood."

"I am ordering my mate."

A pause.

"Worse."

"GO."

Soren went.

Nerin was still sitting beside his garden when a shadow fell over him.

He looked up.

And nearly fell backward.

Soren stood there.

Nerin immediately stood.

"Soren."

The snake stared.

Nerin waited.

And waited.

This was apparently torture for both of them.

Finally Soren said:

"What I said was unnecessary."

Nerin blinked.

"It’s fine."

"It isn’t."

Nerin blinked again.

Soren looked physically offended by his own situation.

Nerin carefully asked:

"Did Swanly make you come?"

Soren’s eyes narrowed.

Nerin immediately regretted existing.

Then Soren answered:

"Yes."

Nerin’s lips twitched.

That was dangerous.

He killed the smile.

Soren continued:

"But she did not make the words true."

Nerin looked up.

Soren’s expression remained cold.

"I was jealous."

Nerin almost dropped the basket in his hands.

Soren looked murderous.

Not at Nerin.

At the fact that the sentence had escaped his mouth.

Nerin stared.

Soren’s eyes sharpened.

"If you repeat that, I will deny it."

Nerin nodded immediately.

"I won’t."

"Good."

A voice came from behind them.

"I heard it."

Soren closed his eyes.

Kael leaned against a post.

Enjoying himself enormously.

Soren turned.

"Leave."

Kael’s mouth twitched.

"You were jealous."

Soren walked past him.

Kael called:

"Should I tell Swanly you admitted it?"

Soren did not turn around.

"I know where you sleep."

Kael laughed under his breath.

Nerin stood awkwardly.

Kael looked at him.

The amusement disappeared.

"I don’t like hearing them call you Papa either."

Nerin immediately drooped.

"Oh."

Kael watched him.

Then sighed.

"But they choose who they love."

Nerin looked up.

Kael’s tail flicked.

"I cannot stop that."

Nerin swallowed.

"I won’t replace you."

"I know."

Kael’s expression hardened slightly.

"And if you hurt them, I will kill you."

Nerin blinked.

"Of course."

"Or Swanly."

"I would never..."

"I know."

That mattered.

Kael turned.

Then stopped.

"Your garden smells good."

Nerin stared.

Was that... praise?

Kael left before he could ask.

Later, Swanly discovered something that annoyed her beyond reason.

Soren did not regret being jealous.

At all.

She caught him eating near the wall.

"You apologized."

"Yes."

"Do you feel better?"

"No."

She stared.

"You’re impossible."

"I still want him farther from you."

"Soren."

"I apologized for choosing words meant to injure him."

Swanly narrowed her eyes.

"Not for wanting him gone."

"No."

Cold.

Shameless.

Completely honest.

Swanly groaned.

"You really are heartless."

Soren took another bite.

"Occasionally."

Kael, sitting nearby, asked:

"Then why apologize?"

Soren looked toward the garden where Nerin was helping Nilo sort pebbles.

"The deer is useful."

Swanly’s mouth dropped.

Soren continued calmly:

"And he looked like he was going to cry for the next three days."

Swanly hit his shoulder.

Kael choked on his food laughing.

Soren looked offended.

"What?"

"You are horrible."

"Yes."

But Swanly saw his eyes move once more toward Nerin.

He had apologized.

For Soren, that was nearly a spiritual event.

She would take it.

The breakthrough came from Nilo.

Of course it did.

He was sitting beside Swanly that evening while she rearranged patient records.

Pebbles covered the ground in front of him.

Tilla had helped him find different shapes.

Round stones for fever.

Flat stones for old-wound pain.

Dark stones for hearing the heartbeat.

Swanly had thought he was playing.

He was not.

Nilo moved one stone.

Then another.

Frowned.

Moved them back.

"Mama."

Swanly looked over.

"What?"

"That male."

He pointed toward a shelter.

"The one with fever?"

"Yes."

"What about him?"

"His mate sleeps beside him."

Swanly nodded.

"She refuses to leave him."

"She isn’t sick."

Swanly paused.

"No."

Nilo pointed toward another marked shelter.

"That female is sick."

"Yes."

"She lives far away."

Swanly’s hand stopped.

Nilo continued.

"They don’t eat together."

"No."

"They don’t sleep together."

"No."

"They use different water."

Swanly’s heartbeat changed.

Nilo picked up three pebbles.

"These sleep here."

He set them near one part of Nerin’s underground map.

"Those sleep there."

Another group.

Swanly leaned closer.

"Nilo."

He frowned.

"They get sick near each other."

Not people.

Places.

Swanly grabbed the map.

"Nerin!"

The deer appeared almost immediately.

"What happened?"

"Your underground lines."

He knelt.

Swanly spread the symptom map beside his.

Nilo pushed his pebble groups into position.

Nerin stared.

Then his eyes widened.

Swanly pointed.

"Worst fever cluster."

"Root network," Nerin whispered.

"This one?"

"Old drainage channel."

"This?"

"Underground water."

Nilo pointed.

"Those people hear the heartbeat."

Nerin looked where he indicated.

His face changed.

"Northwestern hollow."

Swanly slowly sat back.

No.

No, no, no.

Nahla arrived.

"What did you find?"

Swanly looked up.

Tilla was behind her.

Sari too.

Raku came when he saw their faces.

Then Soren.

Kael.

People gathered.

Not a crowd.

The ones who needed to know.

Swanly tapped the records.

"They’re not catching it from each other."

Nahla’s brows drew together.

"What?"

"The sick are clustering by where they sleep."

Sari crouched.

"Not family?"

"No."

Nilo quietly said:

"Places."

Everyone looked at him.

His ears lowered slightly.

Swanly put one hand on his shoulder.

"He noticed."

Pride flickered in Kael’s eyes.

Nerin pointed toward his own markings.

"The worst clusters follow underground pathways."

"Roots," Sari said.

"Water," Nerin added.

"Old stone channels."

Raku cursed.

Soren looked toward the ground.

Swanly finished:

"The Heart isn’t infecting people."

Everyone went silent.

"At least not like Rot."

Nahla understood first.

"It is affecting the land."

Swanly nodded.

"And the land is affecting us."

They tested it that night.

Three of the worst fever patients were moved onto raised wooden sleeping platforms.

No direct ground contact.

Fresh water from the least-affected source.

By morning?

One headache had eased.

One patient stopped hearing the heartbeat.

A woman whose old scar had been burning for two days finally slept.

Not cured.

But better.

Enough.

Swanly stood outside the shelter watching sunrise creep across Ironwood.

Tilla came beside her.

"So the sickness has a name now?"

Swanly looked down at the ground beneath their feet.

"Heart Fever."

Tilla did not smile.

It fit too well.

Nahla joined them, rubbing tired eyes.

"So quarantine won’t stop it."

"No."

Swanly folded her arms.

"We still separate anyone who might have real Rot. We still protect from blood. We still boil water. We still keep patient tools separate."

"But?"

Swanly looked across Ironwood.

Home.

Crops.

Children.

Shelters.

Everything they had fought for.

"But our home is making people sick."

Nobody spoke.

Outside the boundary, someone else was discovering something too.

Veyra had not stopped testing the territorial seal.

She was careful now.

Far more careful after Tharek had noticed her meeting with Brea.

She never crossed.

Never pushed hard enough to trigger an obvious response.

She watched.

That was all.

The western marker.

The northern marker.

The old drainage path.

The places where children played close to the boundary.

She dropped leaves.

Small stones.

Feathers.

Nothing.

She extended one wing until the territorial pressure pushed against it.

Same resistance.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Brea watched from beneath the guarded washing shelter.

Her hands were still bound loosely in front of her.

She knew what Veyra was doing now.

Before, she had only suspected.

Now?

She understood.

The winged female was searching for weakness.

Brea looked toward the nearest guard.

She could speak.

She could warn him.

She could say:

That female has been asking how the boundary recognizes residents.

She could tell them about the newborn question.

The blood question.

The invitation question.

She could.

Her mouth opened.

Then she remembered Selka bleeding out.

Azren’s arrow.

The way everyone looked at Brea now.

Prisoner.

Traitor.

Rot inside Ironwood.

Her jaw tightened.

Not my problem.

She lowered her eyes.

Outside the boundary, Veyra watched a little boy run toward his mother.

The child had been born in Ironwood.

He crossed close to one of the blood-marked stones.

The boundary flickered.

Veyra’s eyes narrowed.

Later, an older male who had lived there since Ironwood’s first claiming passed the same place.

Another flicker.

Different.

Stronger than when an ordinary visitor approached from inside.

Veyra went still.

Tharek watched her from far away.

He did not speak.

Not yet.

Veyra stepped closer to the invisible line.

Slowly.

Her gaze followed a nursing female walking inside with a newborn against her chest.

The territorial pressure shifted.

Not weaker.

But responsive.

Recognizing.

Veyra’s wings became very still.

Behind the fence, Brea saw the exact moment understanding entered her face.

She should call the guard.

She knew it.

She did not.

Veyra looked toward the newborn.

Then toward the blood-bound stones.

And smiled.