Dreamsnake

Jesse moved in her sleep, sighing. Merideth winced at the sound, sucked in a long breath, tried and failed to hold back the sudden deep sobs. Tears glistened in the lamplight, moving like strung diamonds. Snake slid closer and took Merideth’s hand, offering comfort until the clenched fist relaxed.

“I didn’t want Alex to see…”

“I know,” Snake said. And so did Alex, she thought. These people guard each other well. “Merideth, can Jesse bear to hear this? I hate to keep secrets, but—”

“She’s strong,” Merideth said. “Whatever we hid, she’d know.”

“All right. I’ve got to wake her. She shouldn’t sleep more than a few hours at a time with that head wound. And she has to be turned over every two hours or her skin will ulcerate.”

“I’ll wake her.” Merideth leaned over Jesse and kissed her lips, held her hand, whispered her name. She took a long time to awaken, muttering and pushing Merideth’s hands away.

“Can’t we let her sleep any longer?”

“It’s safer to wake her for a while.”

Jesse moaned, cursed softly, and opened her eyes. For a moment she stared up at the tent, then turned her head and saw Merideth.

“Merry… I’m glad you’re back.” Her eyes were very dark brown, almost black, strange with her red hair and high complexion. “Poor Alex—”

“I know.”

Jesse saw Snake. “Healer?”

“Yes.”

Jesse gazed at her calmly, and her voice was steady. “Is my back broken?”

Merideth started. Snake hesitated, but she could not evade the directness of the question even for a short time. Reluctantly, she nodded.

Jesse relaxed all at once, letting her head fall back, staring upward.

Merideth bent down, embracing her. “Jesse, Jesse, love, it’s…” But there were no more words, and Merideth leaned silently against Jesse’s shoulder, holding her close.

Jesse looked at Snake. “I’m paralyzed. I won’t heal.”

“I’m sorry,” Snake said. “No, I can’t see any chance.”

Jesse’s expression did not change; if she had hoped for reassurance, she did not reveal disappointment. “I knew it was bad when we fell,” she said. “I heard bone break.” She raised Merideth gently. “The colt?”

“He was dead when we found you. He broke his neck.”

Jesse’s voice mingled relief, regret, fear. “It was quick,” she said. “For him.”

The pungent odor of urine spread through the tent. Jesse smelled it and turned scarlet with shame. “I can’t live like this!” she cried.

“It’s all right, never mind,” Merideth said, and went to get a cloth.

While Merideth and Snake cleaned her, Jesse looked away and would not speak.

Alex returned warily. “The mare’s all right.” But his mind was not on the mare. He looked at Jesse, who still lay with her head turned toward the wall, one arm flung across her eyes.

“Jesse knows how to pick a good horse,” Merideth said, attempting cheerfulness. The tension was brittle as glass. Both partners stared at Jesse, but she did not move.

“Let her sleep,” Snake said, not knowing whether Jesse was asleep or not. “She’ll be hungry when she wakes up. I hope you have something she can eat.”

Their frozen attention broke in relieved if slightly frantic activity. Merideth rummaged in sacks and pouches and brought out dried meat, dried fruit, a leather flask. “This is wine—can she have that?”

“She hasn’t got a serious concussion,” Snake said. “The wine should be all right.” It might even help, she thought, unless alcohol makes her morose. “But that jerky—”

“I’ll make broth,” Alex said. He pulled a metal pot from a jumble of equipment, drew his knife from his belt, and began to cut a chunk of jerky into bits. Merideth poured wine over shriveled sections of fruit. The sharp sweet fragrance rose and Snake realized she was both thirsty and ravenous. The desert people seemed to skip meals without noticing, but Snake had reached the oasis two days ago—or was it three?—and she had not eaten much while sleeping off the venom reaction. It was not good manners to ask for food or water in this region, because it was worse manners not to offer. Manners hardly seemed important right now. She was shaky with hunger.

“Gods, I’m hungry,” Merideth said in astonishment, as if reading Snake’s feelings. “Aren’t you?”

“Well, yes,” Alex said reluctantly.

“And as hosts—” Apologetically, Merideth handed Snake the flask and found more bowls, more fruit. Snake drank cool-hot spicy wine, the first gulp too deep. She coughed; it was powerful stuff. She drank again and handed the flask back. Merideth drank; Alex took the leather bottle and poured a generous portion into the cooking pot. Only then did he sip the wine himself, quickly, before taking the broth outside to the tiny paraffin stove. The desert heat was so oppressive that they could not even feel the heat of the flame. It flickered like a transparent mirage against the black sand, and Snake felt fresh perspiration sliding down her temples and between her breasts. She wiped her sleeve across her forehead.