During the ride, Kian seemed to vibrate with agitation. His knee bounced rapidly as he bit on his fingernails. He stared out the window like he could make the car move faster through sheer will.
"What's wrong?" Xal couldn't help but ask, eyes back on the road.
"These people, I told them not to take off the amulet. Tera was already too weak when I first healed her. Dumb idiots! It's already been five days, and they're calling me only now! How did they not notice that something was wrong with their child?"
The raw emotion in his voice surprised Xal. It felt almost as if he was listening to Kian's twin, who had a different mindset that actually cared for people.
"You said curing this spirit illness is your specialty. Is it still difficult?"
Xal felt the heaviness of his sister's memory pressing against his chest. Another child like her was in danger. Another family was about to lose someone they loved. Like they lost Xehelya. He wondered if Khem was behind this, too. The anger rose in his throat like bile.
Kian's laugh came out bitter. "Yes. It is. Nothing much I can do. But I agreed to go there so that at least the parents will have peace in mind that they did something to try to save her."
The resignation in those words made Xal's hands tighten on the wheel.
"You're saying …she will…"
"Yeah… The only thing I can do is make her comfortable enough to say goodbye without pain."
His foot slammed the brake without conscious thought.
Kian's body pressed hard against the seatbelt, then jerked back, slamming against the seat. "Ow…what?"
Xal shifted the foot to the accelerator, ignoring the speed limit. If the child were dying, every second counted. The way Kian was acting as if he were the only solution was sending him off the roof.
"You can't give up without trying. How can you even say that?" He clenched his teeth before telling what he had been storing in his mind for so long, "If you know you can't save the kid, why don't you call someone better than you? This is not the time to let your damn pride get in your way of saving a life!"
The accusation hung between them, sharp and brutal.
Kian sighed, long and weary. "There is no one else better than me. And when the spirit illness strikes for the second time, it doesn't spread on the body; it digs deeper, gets hold of the heart, and settles in there, corrupting it, pumping the negative energy through the whole body."
He tugged the sleeve on his right arm to the point it engulfed the whole hand, merely fingernails peeking out. "If it were the first or the second day, I could have still saved her. But it's the fifth, even if I put my best effort, it won't work."
Xal exhaled through his nose, gripping the wheel hard enough that his knuckles went white.
Still so fucking high and mighty. Still refusing to ask for help.
"Well then, get help from someone! Are you going to let your fucked up arrogance let a kid die? Do you even know that there are so many veteran mediums here!?"
"Veteran or not, mediums can't cure spirit illness!! Only a Vyl can, and it's not MY FAULT that they didn't TELL me before it's TOO LATE!!!"
The words burst out of Kian like a dam breaking. Not anger, not offense, it was simply the helplessness. Raw and bleeding and desperate.
But Xal didn't want to hear it. Couldn't hear anything past his own anger and the memory of his sister's last days. If he did, he would be giving up without trying.
"Stop, we're here. You can go home."
Kian pointed at a small house with a wilting garden. He'd been here before, knew exactly where to go. The moment the car stopped, he was out, practically running towards the door through the open gate.
He sat in the driver's seat, breathing hard, trying and failing to control his surging anger.
Kian had mentioned his "kind" before. His clan. Vyl. Xal had searched libraries, the internet, everything. He found a handful of information that was contradictory.
How could he be so sure this girl couldn't be saved? If he is looking at the situation with defeat already in his heart, of course, he'd never see another option. Even if one existed.
"This asshole is so full of himself."
He slammed his hands against the steering wheel. Let his forehead rest against it.
Then his gaze fell on his wrist. The white thread he saw that day, but invisible to his eyes now. Kian had said it was special. Had the power to do better for others or something. Had called it a rare occurrence when it formed.
Maybe they could try together. He said this was the first time a thread appeared. Maybe combining their efforts could work. Maybe the thread could do something.
Hope flickered in his chest, fragile and desperate as he couldn't shake the memory of Xehelya.
Xal got out and ran toward the house.
They had to try.
Had to do SOMETHING rather than just accepting death. This child has so many years ahead to live.
Grow up.
The living room was empty when he entered. Muffled voices came from upstairs, someone crying, breaking down mid-sentence. He followed the sound.
A door stood slightly ajar. He could hear a woman's voice, probably the mother, thick with tears, telling softly how much she loved her, how strong she was, and to hold on because she would feel better soon.
He knocked lightly and went inside.