Victoria continued to spend most of her time at Gabriel's bedside. He wasn't improving. The breakthrough symptom of the scalp rash she'd noted would come to nothing if Agatha and David couldn't synthesize a cure out of the magical herbs the halflings had brought. She hoped they were working on that now.
She continued to dribble liquid into Gabriel's mouth. Not much stayed in his stomach. His eyes were becoming sunken, his periods of wakefulness rarer. While he hadn't yet dropped dead like many of the patients, he was fading, and the end would come soon without some kind of change.
If the other patients noticed that she was absent-minded, they did not complain. Her tasks for them were mostly rote anyway. Get some water into them, direct the healthy soldiers to empty chamber pots or take sheets away for washing.
Naomi had taken that over, the wonderful woman. In addition to caring for the orphans, she kept a large cauldron of boiling soapy water ready for the soldiers to bring the soiled blankets and sheets and dump them in. She would come, stir the pot to sanitize the bedding, and then she and the children would hang it all up to dry so the soldiers could come collect them.
It was minimal extra exposure to the disease, as far as David could tell. They knew it spread from person to person and that sanitization slowed it down, but beyond that, it was anyone's guess. The source could be magical or mundane.
Agatha worked hard, with David often hovering by her side despite his lack of sleep. She seemed satisfied with his attention.
Occasionally Victoria wondered how the halfling intended to find love between the two of them, but her mind was mostly otherwise occupied.
The day the sky went dark, Victoria suspected it was a terrible omen of some kind. Everyone stopped and stared while it lasted, but went about their tasks when none of them died on the spot. It was an unnerving and unusual occurrence. Perhaps another portal had opened?
Victoria didn't know, and had not the mental energy to spend too much time pondering it. Far more ominous was a few days later, when the mist descended from the mountains.
The soldiers were the first to notice it, shouting that something was coming down from the pass.
Victoria had run outside. Was it a messenger, an army, some horrifying abomination from another world? Maybe Gwen or another one of the Fae!
The sight of the strange mist gripped her heart. It made the mountainside disappear in a matter of seconds.
David came to see the commotion, and immediately began giving orders. "GET ROPE!" He cried. "TIE IT TO EACH TENT'S ENTRANCE TO MAKE A PATH! STAY TOGETHER!"
The soldiers quickly obeyed. Though David did not have a specific rank within their hierarchy, Captain Napier repeated his commands when Mason hesitated.
Lately, anyone who seemed to know what they were doing or what should be done outranked all others by that virtue alone.
These were strange times.
The first of the ropes were attached by the time the fog moved through the medical encampment. Everyone who wasn't holding onto one shouted for help as their vision became impaired by the strange mist.
At least no one seemed to be suffocating.
Victoria followed the rope she held and moved back into the medical tent, feeling her way along the wall until she found Gabriel's bed.
She had to lean very close to see him, to make sure he was all right. The mist was so thick.
"Gabe?" She asked. Her voice was quieter than she expected. It was like a heavy blanket had descended upon them all. The oppressive heat had subsided somewhat, at least.
He did not answer, but her hand on his chest confirmed he was still breathing. That was enough, for now.
Methodically, she checked the others. When she found one dead, it took several minutes of calling for the soldiers to grope through the tent and find her. Everything about the medical encampment became less efficient.
Somehow, however, the deaths seemed to slow. David guessed that the heavy humidity of the mist was doing some small part toward hydrating the patients. Victoria had no better theory to offer.
It was difficult, and isolating, never really seeing the face of who you were talking to. It was also strange to hear conversations and not know who was talking. On the third day of the mist, she was following the rope from the tent to the rest area when she heard David's quiet voice cutting through the white cloud.
"I'm discouraged, I admit," He was saying. Victoria paused, and Agatha answered him.
"That's a logical reaction." Her voice was steady and stoic, as it ever was.
"Is it? Or are you just humoring me? Do you think I'm pathetic?" His voice changed suddenly, and Victoria felt like she was intruding on their privacy. She was tempted to turn back, but curiosity, and an increasingly-urgent need to use the outhouse on the other side of them kept her rooted in place.
"I think you are a very tolerable human." Agatha said, something different in her tone. Did she sound wistful? David laughed quietly. Or perhaps loudly. It was hard to tell with the mist.
"You are a more than tolerable halfling," He said.
"Your attitude has changed towards me." The small woman commented.
"It's easier… I suppose, to not think of you as a child, when I cannot see you," Victoria could hear the cringe in his voice. "I can more readily forget the body you inhabit and address you more equally. You are my equal, or even my better, and deserve that respect and deference."
"You used to think of me as a child?" The halfling did not seem upset, merely curious.
"Not… Oh, this is hard to explain," David sighed. "I like you very much, Agatha. I know you are an adult. It just is very strange to have you look at me from that height and with your very youthful face. Unnerving."
Victoria's eyes widened.
"Do you love me?" Agatha asked bluntly. There was silence for a long, awkward moment.
"That is an unusual question. Humans must seem incredibly silly to you," David said finally. "From what I've heard, halflings do not love. I like you very much, and enjoy your company. You are smart, and somehow caring and kind underneath your facade of indifference. I sense so much in you that draws me to you. I'm quite at a loss to explain it well."
"I enjoy your company as well," Agatha said. "And your statement of feelings intrigues me."
Victoria decided that she could go to a different outhouse in the other direction, and backed away before she heard anything more. She'd intruded plenty for one day!
Once that was accomplished, she made her way back to the medical tent and to Gabriel's bedside, where she gravitated despite the call of other duties. She moved very close to his face, trying to see any signs of improvement or deterioration.
He seemed the same.
"Please, Gabriel, you have to get better." She urged quietly. "There's so much you have to see. Well, not right now," She smiled ironically. "There's not much to see but fog. Caspian sent word that he thinks it's the same fog from a world he used to visit on ships. It was everywhere there. I wanted to get more details, but of course there's so much work to do, and it takes longer when you can't see where you're going…"
She trailed off. She could barely see the outline of him, even sitting on the edge of his bed. As she often did, she laid her hand on his chest to be assured of his breathing. The steady rise and fall calmed her.
Victoria's eyelids drooped. With all the extra work, she was more worn out than ever. She shook her head, willing herself awake. There was too much to do. She had to care for the patients. She had to watch over Gabriel.
Making herself stand, she checked on a few other patients as the fatigue dragged at her consciousness. It was definitely time for sleep, she was little good to anyone if she fainted here, where she might get stepped on since no one would see her. With a heavy sigh, she drifted to Gabriel's bedside once again, taking his hand to check his pulse, and laying her hand on his chest to assure herself again that he was still breathing.
Perhaps she should stay closer for a while longer, just in case she was needed here. It took so much longer to get to people in the fog, that by the time the soldiers retrieved her, woke her, and brought her back, the patient would likely be already dead. And what if the patient were Gabriel?
She sank down next to his cot. Maybe a few more moments here wouldn't hurt.