The Fever
1048 Words
Chapter 41
The hidden chamber had fallen silent.
The echoes of battle against the troll-like creatures had long since faded, replaced by the slow dripping of water from the cave ceiling. The strange blue glow from the crystals embedded in the rock cast dancing shadows across the small camp the expedition had built upon the stone landing above the maze.
The group had survived.
Barely.
Now they faced a different enemy.
One that could not be fought with spear or blade.
⸻
Zahren lay upon a bed made from woven leaves and animal hides.
His breathing had become uneven.
Sweat poured from his forehead despite the cold air drifting through the chamber.
His face had lost all color.
Eron knelt beside him, gently removing the blood-soaked bandages covering the long claw marks across his back.
The wounds had begun closing…
But the flesh surrounding them had turned a deep crimson.
Eron frowned.
“The infection is fighting him.”
He carefully spread another layer of thick herbal paste over the wounds before wrapping them again with fresh cloth strips.
As he tied the final knot, he placed a hand against Zahren’s forehead.
His expression grew even more serious.
“The fever is rising.”
⸻
A few feet away, Gorak watched silently.
The great gorilla warrior stood with his massive stone axe resting beside him.
“What do you need?” he asked.
Eron didn’t hesitate.
“Time.”
He looked toward Zahren again.
“The wounds are improving.”
“His body is healing.”
“But he cannot break the fever.”
⸻
Gorak nodded once.
Then his commanding voice echoed through the chamber.
“Tarlok.”
The towering climber immediately stood.
“Yes, Chief?”
“You and Rukan.”
The young gorilla warrior stepped forward.
“You are our eyes.”
“Search the perimeter.”
“If anything larger than a rabbit comes near this camp…”
He grinned.
“…make sure it regrets it.”
Rukan smiled confidently.
“It won’t make it that far.”
Gorak pointed toward the dark passages leading deeper into the cave.
“Set traps.”
“Pitfalls.”
“Noise alarms.”
“Anything that gives us warning.”
The two scouts struck their fists against their chests.
“Yes, Chief.”
Moments later they disappeared into the darkness.
⸻
Across the chamber Kaela sat cross-legged upon a flat stone.
One by one…
She sharpened her weapons.
Her twin obsidian blades scraped rhythmically against a whetstone.
Shhhk…
Shhhk…
Shhhk…
Each pass made the edges even sharper.
Without looking up she spoke.
“Sena.”
The panther scout appeared from the shadows almost instantly.
“Leader.”
“The carnivorous plants.”
“You remember where they were?”
Sena nodded.
“I do.”
“I want their acid.”
Several nearby warriors looked toward Kaela.
She continued sharpening.
“Collect as much as you safely can.”
“We’ll coat the tips of our weapons.”
“If another beast has skin too thick for steel…”
“…perhaps poison will succeed where strength cannot.”
Sena smiled.
“A wise precaution.”
Within moments she vanished back into the maze.
⸻
Hours passed.
The camp slowly settled into routine.
Riven gathered fallen branches and dry fungus from the upper tunnels.
Soon…
A warm fire crackled inside a ring of stones.
Orange light mixed with the blue glow of the cave.
The warmth lifted everyone’s spirits.
⸻
Eron approached Gorak and Kaela once more.
“I have good news.”
Both leaders turned immediately.
“The wounds are cleaner.”
“The herbs are working.”
Kaela allowed herself a small smile.
“And the fever?”
Eron sighed.
“It refuses to break.”
Silence settled.
Finally he spoke again.
“I need cold water.”
“The coolest water we can find.”
“If we can slowly lower his temperature…”
“…his body may finish the fight.”
⸻
Without another word, Gorak looked toward the cave walls.
Water dripped steadily from hundreds of tiny cracks above.
He smiled.
“The cave provides.”
Working together, Gorak, Kaela, and several warriors cut broad leaves from plants gathered earlier.
Using vines and pieces of hollow bone, they fashioned simple channels beneath the dripping water.
Drop…
Drop…
Drop…
The water slowly collected into carved stone bowls.
Cold.
Crystal clear.
Perfect.
Eron dipped cloth into the water before laying it gently across Zahren’s forehead.
Almost immediately steam seemed to rise from the feverish man’s skin.
“Again,” Eron said quietly.
The warriors continued replacing the cloths every few minutes.
⸻
As evening approached…
Riven roasted strips of meat from the massive saber-toothed beast they had slain days earlier.
The rich smell filled the chamber.
Most of the warriors eagerly ate.
Zahren could not.
Eron carefully shredded the cooked meat into tiny pieces.
He mixed it with warm water, crushed herbs, and nutrient-rich roots until it became a thick broth.
He slowly lifted Zahren’s head.
“Easy…”
“Just enough.”
A few drops at a time.
Nothing more.
Eventually Zahren managed to swallow.
“Good,” Eron whispered.
“Your body still fights.”
⸻
Night settled over the hidden chamber.
The fire crackled softly.
Outside the camp…
The scouts quietly checked their traps.
Sena returned carrying several sealed gourds filled with the deadly plant acid.
Kaela carefully coated spearheads, arrow tips, and knife edges before storing them safely away.
Every warrior took a turn watching over Zahren.
Some replaced the cold cloths.
Others adjusted the fire.
Some simply sat nearby in silence.
Even Gorak, who rarely stayed still, quietly took one watch beside the injured former Snake King.
Zahren stirred slightly.
His eyes opened only halfway.
He looked toward Gorak.
His voice was barely audible.
“…Don’t…let…the…stone…”
His strength failed him before he could finish.
His eyes closed once again.
Gorak stared thoughtfully at him.
“What were you trying to tell us?”
There was no answer.
Only the steady drip of water…
The gentle crackle of the fire…
And the growing feeling that whatever waited at the center of the maze was important enough that Zahren’s mind refused to let it go—even while burning with fever.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD