While it had only taken Amadhay a day and a half to become proficient in Hand, it took five more days for her to get a decent grip on the mute brothers’ version of the language.
Unlike with the tutorials, she couldn’t speed through it and get to the meat of it. She couldn’t rewind them if she missed something. They weren’t patient and neither was she, so quite a bit of the four days was the three of them taking breaks so that she could work on the hand signs they’d taught her already that she wasn’t doing correctly. The breaks were also so none of them got hurt, because she had refused a break the first day and it had nearly ended with her smashing a chair on Prillo’s head when he gave her an exasperated look for the fifth time in one clack.
It was during such a break that it happened.
One moment, she had been lounging on her bed, too frustrated to even consider working on Mute Hands—as she liked to call the new language—and the next, she felt her everything being pulled in Tenshu’s direction. She barely had time to look to him before she found herself moving to lay beside the necromancer. The moment their skin touched, she felt drained. There was a throbbing in the back of her head and she could only draw in shallow breaths. She pressed closer until there was no space between them and was gratified to feel that his body was already relaxing.
It was lucky, she mused, that this stage had come while she could still claim travel-sickness. Harpess had implied that they wouldn’t bother her for up to a week while she got used to the equilibrium difference of space. That gave her three days to deal with this before she had to answer to anyone or chance a clandestine meeting with Christein and Benjy. If the books were correct, it was likely this would only take a day or two, which would give her an extra one to be rid of any evidence of whatever happened to Tenshu in the dreamscape.
Turning her attention fully to the man beside her, she noted that he wasn’t much warmer than before, but his limbs weren’t like marble anymore. Somehow just knowing that he needed her closer, she maneuvered his arm until it was around her so that she was pressed against his side. She looked up at his face just in time to see a quick frown before his face smoothed back to the expressionless canvas it had been the past few days. Something in her, a foreign voice, told her not to touch his head, but she dismissed it and brushed her fingertips across his forehead, feeling for a fever.
She hadn’t expected for the world to disappear into a swirl of their auras.
She quickly pulled back, unsure what she should do. While that same voice in the back of her mind was being very vocal about her leaving the necromancer to fight his own battles, another voice, Ribbon’s voice told her to do all she could to help him. The last voice, the only one she really felt was her own, didn’t really agree with either of the voices, but she was curious about the swirling auras. None of the books had really described what she had to do, other than stay close, to help him in this stage.
Either way, she wanted to know what the swirling of their auras was doing, so she was more firm with her touch to his forehead this time, pressing her palm rather than her fingertips, to his forehead. The reaction was instantaneous. Once again, she was floating in a swirl of their auras. In the distance, she could see figures moving, but all of them were blurry and she found that she couldn’t move.
Closer, Ribbon’s voice whispered ad she could feel the voice in every fiber of her being. It made her jerk away, holding her hand to her chest as if she had been burned. It took all of her willpower to sit up and away from Tenshu’s body, especially when he seemed to become paler, less lively, the moment she did. The foreign voice made noises of appreciating her choice and for the first time, she wondered where that voice was coming from. It was new.
Help him, Ribbon’s voice insisted, making Amadhay look back at Tenshu’s body. He looked stiff again, as if her tiny bit of distance completely cut him off from her power. She scooted closer to him, but he didn’t look any better until she touched his hand.
But the moment she touched his hand, she lost all vision. She heard labored breathing, could feel it coming from her own lungs. Tenshu’s voice gave a vicious curse and in response some other creature gave a hungry cry. She felt something hit her head and hard, and in surprise, she dragged her hand away from Tenshu’s, though it felt like she was lifting a wolf feral rather than just her hand.
Once she was no longer touching him, her vision returned. Her breathing came easier. Her head no longer throbbed. Everything was fine with her, but a single glance at Tenshu told her that he was doing worse. There was a strange pallor to his paling skin. She could feel his aura thinning by the way it felt on her mind as it reached for her. He was becoming stiff again and she had a feeling that it she let him, he would go further than deadshock this time. He would die.
Ribbon would want me to save him, she thought before the voice could say anything. The darker one was strangely silent and she associated that with her making up her mind. She was going to save him even if it felt strange. She had decided to save him the moment she picked him up from the fountain. She couldn’t change her mind now that it was something that would affect her.
She took a deep, steadying breath, and slowly leaned back down. Heads together, palms together, Ribbon’s voice instructed. She closed her eyes and, forcing herself to move the last few inches, she pressed her forehead to his and her palms against his. It wasn’t as instantaneous this time, in fact, she had the time to take five breaths before she felt a pull start at her navel and pull her, it felt, inside of Tenshu.