Reassured, I stripped off my boots and clothing down to a tunic and climbed into bed, stretching luxuriously. Sleeping with Flowers was miserable, and, while I enjoyed being wrapped in Batu's arms every night, it was awesome to have a night to myself, too.
I slept the best I had since falling ill from infection. I didn't even hear Suvdin enter the ger or sense her until she shook me awake the next morning.
"Oh, damn." I pushed myself up groggily. "Am I late?"
Worry tightened the lines beneath her eyes and made her forehead crease. "No, Moonbeam."
"What's wrong?" Not quite able to think straight so early, I found myself craving coffee as I stood and began to dress. "Is Flowers well?"
"She is. But Batu …"
I froze and straightened, alarm snapping me out of the post-wake up stupor. "What happened?" I demanded quietly. "Where is he?"
"He is ill, Moonbeam."
"Injured from battle?"
"No." She wrung her hands. "He is fevered. Ghoajin fears it's the Great Plague."
I stared at her. Last night, I had been debating whether or not I wanted to take a chance and explore a relationship with Batu, and today, the option might have been off the table. My chest was tightening, and a small voice in my head was trying to convince me I hadn't woken up, that this was a dream.
It wasn't.
"In that case, I will be helping him," I said at last.
"Yesen -"
"I don't care, Suvdin!" I snapped a little too harshly. "Batu has saved my life multiple times. If I can help him, I will. Where is he?"
"The plague tent."
"So even if he didn't have the Great Plague, he probably will now." I began to pace, my thoughts racing. I glanced at my bandaged hand. "Um, can you give me a moment to dress?"
"Of course." She left the tent.
With some queasiness, I knelt beside the weapons Batu left and drew a knife. I held my breath and poked the pad of my good thumb. Muttering a curse, I checked the blood.
No black dots at all this time. I squeezed more out, hopeful I'd find a quick cure to Batu's illness.
My blood was normal. Whatever had been in my system while I was unconscious for seventy years was completely gone. Rather than be pleased by the absence of evidence of whatever weirdness Carter did to me, I was … scared.
I sat in silence for a long moment, fighting the sense of detachment that crept over me during moments of duress. Batu wasn't here to pull me out of it, and I recited his chant a few times to help me reroute my panic into focusing on my surroundings.