Page 187 of Starside

Somehow, I know he’s not sleeping. I know something is wrong.

“Raker?” I get to my feet, losing my balance for a step as I fight off a wave of dizziness. In a moment, I’m on my knees before him.

He doesn’t look up at me. He only reaches up, as if to keep me away from him. His hand brushes against my shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Aris,” he says.

But his hand.

I take it in mine before he can stop me, and—“You’re burning.” He’s hotter than should be possible. I’m not sure how he’s still conscious.

And his veins … they are the same red as the snake’s eyes. Did he get bitten too?

I think about how quickly I recovered without medicine. I reach up to touch the place the fangs pierced me, only to find the skin a normal temperature. My own veins are not this color. I’m completely healed, as if—

I swallow. No. No—he wouldn’t.

“Did you—did you suck the poison from my neck?” I ask, my voice just a whisper.

He doesn’t say anything.

A strange feeling tugs in my chest. He sucked poison from my blood. He … saved me. Now here he is, burning up, the poison having reached his heart.

His enormous hand is still in mine. I weave my fingers through his, as if to cool it.

“What a stupid thing to do,” I say, my voice a whisper.

At that, he tilts his head up, only slightly. I can imagine he’s glaring at me. His voice is rougher than usual. “Saving your life? Stupider than you can possibly imagine.”

So he did.

“Yet you keep doing it,” I breathe.

“Someone has to,” he says, echoing my own words back to me. As if … as if he was listening. Remembering.

I raise a brow. “I’ve saved your life too.”

He makes a sound. “Hardly. All you’ve done is made my life a fucking nightmare.”

Keep talking, I think, worry crawling through me. Don’t fall asleep. I don’t know if you’ll wake up. “Yet you sucked the poison from my throat.”

He sighs. “I need you alive.”

“Right. For the map.” Though he hasn’t asked me to draw it in days. “Yet—yet now you’re dying.”

He doesn’t deny this either.

“Well … well, you can’t,” I say.

He shifts his head an inch, his body seizing, as if even moving hurts. “I would have thought my death would please you,” he says. “Given how much you hate me.”

I nod. “Normally, yes, but …” I shrug a shoulder. “It would just be embarrassing,” I say, “being the Warrior Without Marks on His Armor and then dying from snake venom.”

He makes a sound that almost resembles a laugh.

“Also, I don’t think that snake could lift your sword, so your death would really be a waste.”

There it is. That rough sound of amusement again.

I wish I could see it. I wish I could see if demons can smile.