“Thanks,” Zollin said. Then he addressed Brianna. “You okay?”
“Fine, just anxious for you.”
“Things will be fine here,” Zollin said. “It’s just going to take a little time.”
They said their good nights, and Zollin found a warm place to rest and fell promptly asleep. The next thing he knew he woke up feeling nauseous. His stomach was cramping and his mouth was flooding with silva. There was a bucket nearby and Zollin crawled to it, then threw up violently. His body was shaking and he felt hot. He knew the virus had infected him, and apparently his liver was no match for a dwarf’s. In the brief respite he had after throwing up, he probed his body. The virus was there and growing, masking its presence with the same waste product that it had used in the dwarves. Zollin worked feverishly to help his liver, which meant another bout of vomiting. Then he fell asleep again. He awoke a few hours later, sick again. Unlike the dwarves’, his liver was quickly overwhelmed.
He repeated the remedy and searched his body for the antibodies that it should be producing to fight the virus. There weren’t any. He realized he would have to stay awake and keep magically healing his liver to give himself time for his body to recognize the real threat. He sat propped against a stone wall, his body burning with fever and his magic churning inside him. He wanted the potato beer or some arkhi, but he knew the alcohol would only make his liver worse. His stomach cramped and burned as his natural stomach acid scoured the empty organ.
When the village finally started stirring he searched his body again for antibodies and this time found a few. He would need several more hours of work to ensure that his body had what it needed to fight off the disease, but he would live.
Hammert found him an hour later. He looked concerned.
“What’s ailing you, wizard?” he said.
“I caught the virus,” Zollin said weakly.
“That’s unfortunate,” said Hammert. “Can’t you heal yourself?”
“I’m working on it, but my liver is no match for yours.”
“I could have told you that,” Hammert said boastfully. “We dwarves have strong constitutions. Humans have us on size, but I suspect we’re the hardier race.”
“I agree,” Zollin said.
“I checked on our sick. They all seem better.”
“Good. Once I’m well enough I’ll check them again. You’re all going to get this virus,” he warned Hammert. “You already have it. I suspect most everyone in your village does. Some people will be able to overcome the disease on their own, it all depends on how well their livers function. I suggest you take some dried cave lichen to boost your liver function.”
“You know about cave lichen?” Hammert asked in surprise.
“Bahbaz told me about it. He’ll find some for your village.”
“Good, at least he can do something useful.”
“You’ll also need to spread the word,” Zollin said. “This virus could spread to all the clans. They need the cave lichen and knowledge of how to fight the virus. It would be best if you send dwarves from your village to the other clans; it will expose them to the virus and allow their bodies to create the necessary antibodies to fight it.”
“And when should we do that?” Hammert said. “We’re short-handed as it is.”
“You should wait until the sickness has run its course. Anyone who isn’t sick needs to stay here in case they get sick. Let the people who get well spread the word.”
“All right,” Hammert said. “Can I do anything for you?”
“I need water,” Zollin said.
“I’ll send someone.”
The hours crawled by. Zollin sipped water and was forced to vomit several more times before he felt like his body had enough antibodies to fight the disease. He fell asleep around noon, but was shaken awake by Hammert a few hours later. He hurt all over and his body screamed for more rest, but the look on Hammert’s face kept him awake.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Your woman; she’s sick.”
Zollin stood up and gritted his teeth as a wave of nausea swept over him.
“Where is she?”
Hammert led him to the gate. Bahbaz and the other dwarves from the Oliad clan were gathered around her.
“What happened?” Zollin said.
“She got sick,” Bahbaz said in a worried tone. “It hit her hard and fast. She’s been vomiting almost non-stop.”
Zollin put his hand on Brianna’s forehead. It was sweaty and hot. He could feel the magic inside him whipped into a fury by his worry and anxiety. It raged deep in his chest and he fed the powerful magic into Brianna, coaxing her liver back to health. Her eyes fluttered open and she recognized him. Then she was retching, her thin body spasming as every muscle locked hard and her stomach emptied. When the nausea passed, she smiled briefly at Zollin, then fell asleep.
“Will she be okay?” Bahbaz asked.
“Our livers can’t handle the virus the way yours can. I’ll have to stay with her. Did you find cave lichen?”
“We did, but it will take a while to dry it,” Bahbaz said.
“Bring it here,” Zollin ordered, then he too vomited.
It took him a moment to regain his composure.
“You’re both sick?” Bahbaz said in surprise.
“I’m on the mend,” Zollin said in a grim attempt at humor. “The virus is very contagious. That’s obvious since Brianna is sick.”
One of the dwarves opened a bag that was full of the lichen. He could feel the power in the small plant, only a whisper but it was there. He let his magic mingle with that of the lichen, and he could feel the life-giving power. It reminded him of the willow tree he had found back in Tranaugh Shire. It too had magical power, and he had made himself a belt of woven willow boughs to enhance his magical ability. That tree had been strong with the same life-giving magic, a different magic than that in his staff, which was formed from lightning and full of danger. He smiled as he looked down at the lichen, pale green and thin. Zollin let his magic pour into the bag. In only a minute he had extracted all the moisture from the plant.
“Now it’s dry. How do you take it?”
“Powdered, and mixed with drink,” Bahbaz explained.
“Bring something to drink,” Zollin ordered.
Hammett hurried away and Zollin looked at Bahbaz. The dwarf looked genuinely concerned for him.
“I’m fine,” Zollin said. “Tired but on the mend. You should be more concerned with yourselves. I don’t know if this remedy will help.”
“We are a hardy folk,” Bahbaz said. “We shall be fine.”
“All right, make sure you all drink some of the mixture and avoid fermented drink for a while. Give yourself time to fight this virus.”
Zollin levitated Brianna and moved her to a place out of the way of the busy dwarves. The village was hard at work. There were dwarves seeing to everyday chores and others taking care of the sick. Of course the constant rhythm of hammers on steel and chisels on stone could be heard all over the village. Zollin arranged a pallet for himself and Brianna, with buckets handy for the vomiting that was sure to come. Zollin’s body was screaming for sleep, so he positioned himself as comfortably as possible and held Brianna. He knew that she would wake up soon and need to vomit again, but he dozed while she slept.
It took several hours for Zollin to help Brianna past the worst of the virus. Her little stomach seemed to fill with bile so fast that she could last only about half an hour before needing to vomit. Sometime late in the afternoon they both were able to sleep. When they woke up the next day they were weak and famished. Zollin found bread and water beside them and gave some to Brianna, who was sore from the constant retching the day before. They both ate with trepidation, afraid that the food would trigger the nausea again, but it didn’t. Zollin probed both of their bodies with his magic and found that antibodies were busy fighting the virus.
“I guess we should find our friends,” Brianna said.
“Yeah, I need to see how the dwarves are faring.”