Waves of heat washed over Devvyn, rising from his chest and crawling up his neck and to the top of his head. It felt like he was drowning in a strong, fevered tide. His legs felt sluggish, uncoordinated, and his hands—he looked down—were stiff and pale, like they were turning to stone.
He blinked hard and tried to walk faster. The sooner he got home, the better. Maybe he just needed water. Or sleep. Or both. But with every step, his body felt heavier. The bag of steel sheets seemed to weigh twice what it had before, and the toy ship tucked under his arm pressed into his ribs like a brick.
He passed by two women arguing outside a stall, and their faces blurred like smudged paint. One of them pointed at him and said something. He blinked again. Their mouths moved, but he couldn't make out the words. It was like the world had turned to static around him. Everything was muffled and distorted.
A wave of dizziness hit him hard, and he stumbled, reaching out to catch himself on the side of a building. His hand slapped against warm stone, and for a moment, he stood there, panting.
People moved past him, looking like shadows with warped edges. He tried to breathe slowly, steadily. That didn't work, so he resumed walking. If he was going to lose consciousness, he didn't want it to be outside where he could get robbed and left for dead.
Devvyn turned the corner and reached the main road. Just a few more steps and he'd be home.
"Oi! Devvyn!"
He heard Irric the Butcher call him. He turned, almost scared to look. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw that Irric looked normal, human.
The butcher stood outside his stall, wiping his hands on a bloodstained apron. The scent of roasted meat drifted faintly from behind him.
"Tell your grandmother thank you," Irric said, nodding. "She saved all our arses."
Devvyn opened his mouth to reply, but the words shrivelled on his tongue.
Irric… shifted.
His body stretched and cracked with a sickening sound, flesh bubbling like it was boiling beneath the surface of his skin. His arms split at the elbows, forming two crooked limbs ending in claws. His jaw unhinged and widened into a jagged maw, teeth like broken glass. And then the eyes came, too many eyes, dotting his forehead, chest, arms, blinking in chaotic patterns.
Devvyn's breath hitched. He stumbled back.
"I…what…"
Irric, no, whatever it was, took a step toward him.
Devvyn turned and ran.
As he dragged himself down the road, he kept his eyes straight ahead. He couldn't risk another glance to the side. Every shape in his peripheral vision seemed distorted. The woman selling flowers on the corner had too many arms. The man reading a newspaper had a stretched, snout-like face. Even the children looked warped, their laughter sounding like death screeches.
Devvyn squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and kept moving, breathing hard through gritted teeth.
Almost there. Almost there.
He turned into the compound and raced up the steps. His hand barely touched the door before he pushed it open and burst into the house.
"Maelis!" he shouted, his voice hoarse. "Aela!"
No answer.
The house was still.
Devvyn dropped everything he bought. They landed with a dull thump by the wall as he turned around. He shoved open the back door and hurried outside, rushing past the vegetable beds and Maelis's pile of old lumber. His pulse was roaring in his ears.
He rounded the back of the house and ran toward the small, rusted building that served as Maelis's workshop.
Please let them be there. Please.
Devvyn burst into the workshop, the door slamming against the wall as he stumbled in. His vision swam. The ground tilted. Then everything gave way beneath him.
He collapsed.
Maelis and Aela were at his side in seconds.
"Devvyn!" Maelis knelt beside him, grabbing his shoulders. "What's wrong?"
He tried to speak, but his throat was dry. His skin was slick with sweat. "It's hot, Grandmother," he rasped. "It's so hot. It's like—like my veins are filled with boiling water."
Maelis's face tightened with alarm. She touched his forehead and recoiled slightly at the heat radiating off him. "Aela," she said sharply, "get a towel and a bucket of water from the well. Now."
Aela didn't waste a second. She bolted out of the workshop.
Devvyn let out a shaky breath and tried to sit up, but Maelis pushed him gently back down.
"Stay still," she said firmly. "You're burning up."
Maelis quickly unbuttoned Devvyn's shirt to help cool him down, but the moment she pulled the fabric apart, she gasped.
The skin beneath where the whistle rested was red and blistered, as if it had been scorched.
"Ignisara's flame…" she whispered, reaching out with trembling fingers. "Devvyn, where did you get this thing?"
Devvyn mumbled something, but his words were slurred and unintelligible. Sweat dripped from his brow, his eyes unfocused.
Aela rushed back into the workshop, a bucket in one hand, a towel in the other. "I got the—" She stopped short. Her eyes widened as she saw the burns. "What the hell is that?"
"I don't know," Maelis said, voice tight. "But it's burning him."
She reached for the cord to remove the whistle.
The moment her fingers touched it, Devvyn screamed. His whole body arched violently off the ground, limbs thrashing. "No! It hurts!" he cried out, voice raw. "It's burning…it's burning…it…"
Maelis yanked her hand back from the whistle, her face pale with shock. "Alright. Alright, we'll leave it for now," she said.
Devvyn's eyes rolled back into his head. He sighed. Then he went still.
Maelis dunked the towel into the bucket of water Aela brought, wrung it out, and pressed it gently to Devvyn's forehead and chest. Aela dropped to her knees beside her and started doing the same to his arms, cooling him with soft, careful motions.
Devvyn twitched beneath their touch, his skin hot to the point of steaming. His lips moved constantly, voice hoarse and slurred.
"Mawfiend," he muttered. "Wailer. Crawlers… shadows—teeth… sharp. Big, sharp teeth. Killing."
Maelis looked up at Aela, face grim.
"He's dreaming," Aela said, glancing nervously at the scorched skin around the whistle. "Or… seeing something."
Devvyn jerked suddenly, eyes fluttering, then settled again with a shuddering breath.
Aela stared at the whistle for a long second, then whispered, "We should leave it on him. I don't know what it's doing to him," Aela said, "but if taking it off makes it worse…" She trailed off, her voice thin. "Let's just keep him cool. See if he wakes up."
Maelis nodded once, grimly, and dipped the towel again. "Keep helping me. I'm not sure what my foolish grandson has gotten himself into again. Whatever this is, we need to understand it fast."
Maelis pressed another towel to Devvyn's chest, but it was no use. The burn was still spreading. The red patch beneath the whistle had slithered down his ribs and up toward his collarbone, turning angry and blistered. His body radiated heat, the soaked towels steaming faintly as they touched his skin.
"This isn't helping," Maelis said as she started to really panic. "The towels aren't working. We need to soak his whole body in water."
She and Aela started to lift him under the arms, but Devvyn's body was too hot, and he was heavy too. As Maelis strained, a sudden, stabbing pain shot through her waist. She winced and dropped him, nearly toppling over his body.
Just then, Jelric called from the doorway.
"Hello? I heard some noise—what's going on?"
Jelric stood at the threshold, his eyes widening when he saw Devvyn on the floor. "What the—what happened?"
"Quick, Jelric," Maelis said through gritted teeth, pointing at Devvyn. "Help me carry him inside to the bathroom. He's burning up. We need to cool his whole body."
Aela was already on her feet. "I'll fill the tub," she said, dashing out.
Jelric rushed forward, dropping to one knee beside Maelis. "What's happening to him?"
"No time," Maelis snapped. "Get his arms. We have to move him now."
But just as they reached for Devvyn, his body seized again. He arched off the floor, every muscle in his frame locking rigid. His limbs shook violently, eyes fluttering under closed lids. His breath came in short, sharp gasps.
"Devvyn!" Maelis cried.
"Is he—what is this?" Jelric shouted, eyes wide with fear.
Maelis grabbed a towel and tried to steady Devvyn's head. "Hold him down so he doesn't hurt himself."
Jelric reached down to grab Devvyn under the arms, but the moment his skin touched Devvyn's, he recoiled with a hiss.
"He's boiling," Jelric shouted, shaking his hand. "He's, he's not normal hot, Maelis. He's burning."
He looked around frantically, then spotted a large, folded tarp hanging on a hook by the workbench. Without thinking, he lunged for it, dragged it to the floor, and spread it out next to Devvyn.
"Help me roll him," he grunted. Maelis helped manoeuvre Devvyn's limp, twitching body onto the tarp.
Jelric wrapped it around Devvyn's back and arms, then clutched the corners together like a sling, gritting his teeth as he lifted him. Devvyn was heavy, but the tarp shielded him just enough from the searing heat radiating off his body.
As Jelric staggered toward the door, Maelis called after him, "First room on the left! The bathtub!"
Jelric nodded and hurried inside, the tarp dripping with sweat and damp towels, Devvyn shuddering inside it with every step.
