I tossed and turned in my bed, struggling to close my eyes in what should have been the safest place I’d been offered to sleep in a long time. Something about this island, and Lunaria, made me feel more uneasy than I might’ve felt in the middle of a warzone.

“No sleep?” Ghost asked.

“I’m obviously not the only one,” I said.

“I’m half-sleeping.”

“Half-sleeping? That’s a good one.”

Ghost seemed unimpressed.

Ghost always seemed unimpressed.

I finally remembered. Some falcons really could sleep with an eye open, resting half of their brain while the other remained alert. Should’ve known he wasn’t kidding around.

“Okay, sorry. You were serious. I wish I could do that trick.”

“You nearly do. You’re a very light sleeper. A slight breeze seems to wake you, and you haven’t fallen asleep once since we arrived.”

“This place gives me the creeps, Ghost!” I whispered. “Somebody was trying to kill me the whole time we were in the last place, but I swear… it felt safer than here.”

“You’re doing a human thing.”

“Being?”

“You’re making stories up in your mind and pretending they’re real.”

I narrowed my eyes. Cheeky bird…

“Or maybe that’s just my intuition.”

“Intuition is analyzing the facts subconsciously. Analyze them consciously.”

I leaned back into my pillow again, resting my hands behind my head and sighing.

“Fact: This woman, and her cult, gives me the creeps.”

“That’s a fact about how you feel, Taylor. It’s also a fact that the people here seem to adore her and believe every word she says.”

“She believes every word she says, Ghost. That’s the strangest part of all.”

“It’s not strange at all. Humans have always done this. It’s your most ‘human’ trait. Are you unaware of your own history? You have been inventing explanations for the unknown since before you lit the first flame.”

“Do you think she’s another Connie?”

“Connie?”

I sighed, forgetting that he wasn’t around for that particular sequence of events in Arc City.

“Connie was Arc City’s Adversity Management commander. Rather than march soldiers around, she stuck her nose in everything. She took on the identity of a low-level criminal and inserted herself into every shady deal across the city. She made a network of anti-establishment people to get information for her. That way, she could keep an eye on them better. It was genius, when you think about it.”

“You think Lunaria is actually this zone’s commander, controlling the people here through manipulation?”

“It’s plausible, isn’t it?”

“It is. It’s also not the priority right now. The fact we need to focus on is the fact she’s denying us assistance. We should evaluate the virus situation here and move on to the next island to see if we fare batter there… and of course to see if that island’s help would even be sufficient to reclaim the lost vaccines here. If not, we will be best served by cutting our losses and moving on. Perhaps the Adversity Management here will do the right thing once they discover the true nature of that crate’s contents.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“I don’t like giving up,” I said, closing my eyes.

“Time runs short. Spending more time than needed here means sacrificing others.”

“I know… I can’t save everyone. Or anyone, truly.”

“I’ll keep watch. At least get a little sleep. These people need you at your best. I’ll wake you the moment anything or anyone approaches.”

I didn’t even have the strength to answer. I fell almost instantly into a deep sleep.

***

I wasn’t sure how many hours had passed. I awoke abruptly, wings flapping in my face.

“Someone’s approaching,” Ghost whispered.

It was mid-morning now. The sun swept over the temple grounds, giving a false sense of comfort. You’d think there wasn’t a problem in the world.

I sat up, just in time to see Remira and Randolf approaching, with Remira carrying a tray.

“Good morning, Taylor,” she said, her voice as sweet and soft as before. “Lunaria asked us to help you with whatever you needed today. We noticed you sleeping in.”

Randolf nodded.

“We assumed you had a difficult journey, so we let you keep sleeping a while. I hope that’s alright.”

I nodded to them both, eyeing the tray Remira sat next to me. Mangoes, sliced. Some kind of fish, steamed and cubed. It smelled unreal. More actual, honest-to-goodness food.

I quickly sampled a bite of each.

“To your liking?” Remira asked.

“Yeah…” I said, trying not to let it overwhelm me. All those years without real food, and now every time I bite into something delicious, my emotions start to get the better of me. “It’s great. Thank you.”

They both sat on the ground.

“Do you have any questions for us while you eat?” Randolf asked.

I wiped my mouth.

“I want to visit your sick today. After that, I want to make sure I’m there when the fishermen arrive so I can move on to Rockport. It doesn’t look like I’ll be getting what I’m looking for here.”

Remira frowned. “Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. But Lunaria has said you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you like. We have plenty of food, and with so many now ill… plenty to spare, and we could always use more hands in the fields.”

“A kind offer,” I said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible. “Not one I can accept, but thank you anyway. I’m afraid I have a lot left to do before I settle down anywhere. Probably more than I ever can do.”

I finished the last of my food and handed the empty tray back to Remira, then stood up and dusted myself off.

“I’m ready. Let’s go see the sick. I’ll offer what advice I can to your healers before I leave.”

“We don’t have far to go. They’re here on the temple grounds,” Randolf said, already walking in that direction and gesturing for us to follow.

Remira walked beside me, her expression darkening.

“More and more of the temple ground has been devoted to the sick in recent weeks. It is… not an easy sight to take in. Though, with your experience, I doubt it will be as shocking to you.”

I shook my head. How I wished that were true.

“It never gets any easier,” I said. “Less surprising, sure, but not easier.”

As we neared the opposite end of the temple, I could hear the familiar sounds of the virus, as I’d come to know them.

Groaning, pained words, calls for help from those attending to their needs.

To my surprise, their sick bay was well organized. Beds lined the floor, evenly spaced in rows. There were many attendants, so that no one went long without attention. I felt a tinge of guilt for the first question to pop into my mind, but it needed to be asked.

“How is this sustainable?”

“The stars will provide the answer to that question, in time. We need only do what we can do. The past is already gone, and the future is to be decided by the stars. Our concern is the present.”

Such a childish, naive way of thinking, but these people couldn’t be blamed for that. The future must be prepared for in the present. The past informs the present. That’s what I wanted to argue, but… that debate would serve no one. Help no one.

I did a brief walk around. I estimated half of this island’s population was already here. That’s why so few people were out in the fields. Soon, the fruit would begin to pile up, rotten. The fish would go uncaught. The people of these islands would fade away.

Whether I recovered the vaccine or not. The thought was difficult to bear. I felt sick with it. Ghost, sensing my anguish, gently tapped his beak on my head to bring me back into the present. I’d almost forgotten he was perched there on my shoulder. My armor removed all the pressure that would normally keep me aware of that fact.

I spoke briefly to the woman in charge of everyone’s care. Unfortunately, she was already showing early signs of the virus herself. How quickly it would progress was anyone’s guess. They were already doing a good job, so there wasn’t much I could add. A few minor corrections. None of which would make any difference against such a deadly disease. Only the vaccine would do that, and their leader lacked the guts to help me get it for them.

“I’m done here,” I said.

As we walked away, Remira stopped and turned to me.

“How are things looking for us?”

The scientist in me wanted to speak first. You are on borrowed time. You’re nearing the threshold where nothing can be done. You likely already have the virus yourself, and you don’t even know it. You’ll hope to die before your husband, so you won’t have to see him die. You’ll pray for a less painful death than you’ve seen others experience.

Instead, seeing the pain in her eyes, what good would it do? It would only cause more unnecessary pain.

“I hope the stars are kind and merciful,” I said. It wasn’t the perfect thing to say, but it was enough.

She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly before releasing me and wiping her eyes. I’d tried to sound optimistic, but my words conveyed the message clearer than any of the scientific explanations could have ever hoped to.