Feldspar Mine, Desmond, 10416 P.C.

"Gentle now."

Matthew was lulled to consciousness by the soothing voice. His eyes fluttered, catching glimpses of a stone wall and shelves with bottles. It took a moment to realize that he wasn't in the punishing room anymore; he was lying on a table in the infirmary, he guessed. He recognized the voice, the room, the relaxing scent of chamomile. It always smelled like chamomile in the infirmary, and it was a nice change from the stench of sweat and unwashed bodies he was accustomed to. Oceania had told him once that the chamomile grew like weeds outside the mine, and since it was such a good medicinal plant she was often sent out to pick it by her mother. Sabine was the closest thing to a doctor they had at Feldspar.

It was Sabine who was speaking, muttering under her breath as she applied some kind of salve on Matthew's back. He sucked in a breath and flinched as sudden pain took hold of him; the Warmth fought it valiantly, but it was like throwing cups of water on a raging inferno.

"Oh, I know," Sabine crooned as she worked, probably unaware that he was awake. "You poor boy, I'm so sorry."

Oceania burst into the room so suddenly that they both jumped. "Is he dead?" Her words were breathless and full of fear.

"By heart attack, maybe!" Sabine scolded.

Matthew would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't so focused on the pain. "Unfortunately not," he hissed between clenched teeth.

Sabine bustled over to the counter and quickly returned with a spoonful of some kind of syrup she made him swallow. "This'll help with the pain."

It tasted sweet and soothed his parched throat, but it did little else. "Sabine," he started, folding his arms beneath his head in a more comfortable position. His back burned with the added movement.

"It doesn't do a thing for him, Mother, remember?" Oceania came up to the table, dropping to her knees to be at eye level with Matthew. He could hear Sabine giving a noise of pity as she hurried back to the counter. Oceania watched him, her face disquieted as she studied his. "How can we help?"

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"Hammer." Matthew flinched as Sabine began to apply the salve again. Its cool touch contrasted with the Warmth beneath his skin, making him shiver.

Oceania gave him a deadpanned look.

"Rock?"

"Not exactly an accepted medical procedure, Matthew."

"Why not? It works."

"If you want a headache, sure." Oceania sighed and pushed herself to her feet to inspect his back. "How are you still alive?" she whispered under her breath, but he heard her loud and clear.

"That is the question," he mumbled, closing his eyes. He wanted to return to unconsciousness, to escape the pain, but the drug Sabine used to put them to sleep never worked on him. He didn't understand it — and it was not something he had been able to keep hidden from the two women, either. He hadn't been able to hide much of anything from them. To his utmost relief, they had kept his secret, but it was only a matter of time before it was discovered. Then what would happen to him?

Yes, he would have liked a rock to the skull right about then.

Sabine and Oceania were whispering, and he strained to hear them. "Are you still having those dreams?" Sabine was asking her daughter.

"Yes."

The two women fell silent, leaving Matthew in confusion. What dreams? He decided it didn't matter. Keeping his eyes closed, he tried to focus on anything besides the pain.

Off in the distance, a whip cracked. Matthew flinched, gasping as the jerking movement pulled at his wounds. The pain, which had lulled for a moment, was back and stronger than ever. The cups of water were pitiful against the roaring fire. His breath was stolen from its intensity. He pressed his forehead to the wood, gripping the edge of the table tightly in his hands. The wood felt pliable between his fingers as if he could rip it apart like a flimsy stick.

Oceania dropped down in front of him again, her face concerned. "Shh, just breathe," she coaxed, her hands gentle as she rested them on his forearms. "Just breathe."

He knew it was Oceania, but his mind was playing tricks on him. He heard Lily's voice, felt her tousle his hair in that gentle, comforting way she always had. "Go to sleep, Mattie. The monsters won't get you there."

Matthew lost consciousness once more; he tumbled down into inky darkness, knowing all along that his long-dead sister was wrong. The monsters met him in his sleep.