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he hysteria and madness only lasted a few minutes, long enough for Zhou to gather Pendaran into his arms and hold him. Weak and conditioned by long captivity, he gave up quickly and lay sobbing in Zhou’s arms. Zhou waved Xiang Yi away when the monk offered to restrain him with a blanket.
“I’m not dreaming?” Pendaran whimpered as if horrified by the prospect. His voice was thin, almost childlike. Trembling, he pressed his face into Zhou’s breast and wept. Xiang Yi and Lemony stood over Zhou with stricken looks upon their faces.
“Take care of Mabane,” Zhou said to Lemony. The boy was ashen, no doubt sensing the terrible anguish of his father and pained that Pendaran could not even acknowledge him. The little monk nodded and went to the boy’s side to take his hands and hold him as he began to cry. Zhou pushed aside his annoyance that the little monk had dragged the boy into this. He should have been taken away from here until Pendaran was healed. He saw no reason to subject the boy to this kind of suffering just as it was inappropriate to fetch Sabina from her adoptive family.
“Do you hear me, Pendaran?” he whispered, “Just nod, you do not need to speak.”
“I’ll… I’ll kill everyone… gods, Zhou, please,” he sobbed, “Don’t let me dream.”
“I’ll take care of you, Pen,” he said tenderly, “I know about the dreams. Dabar told me what happens.”
“Kill me,” Pendaran sobbed, “Please, just kill me. I can’t live with hurting you. I can’t live with hurting anyone.”
He hushed him as he would a frightened child, tightening his grasp to contain him. Pendaran’s mind resembled a seething pit of darkness and despair. Zhou could feel his panic as if it were his own. He nodded at Xiang Yi, signaling that he was ready to propose his plan to Pendaran and coax him to go along with it.
“Xiang Yi knows of a substance that can stop dreaming. It will buy us time and prevent you from hurting anyone.”
“You can’t help me,” Pendaran wailed, “It’s a waste of time. You can’t save me.”
“Pen, listen to me,” Zhou said, focusing, trying to find a means of mentally anchoring him. It was impossible. Too much time had passed in darkness, too much evil had been ingrained in his flesh, “I will protect myself and those around you. Do you trust me to do that?”
“Master, please,” Pendaran pleaded, “please.”
“No,” Zhou said quietly, “I am not willing to give up on you. I will try to drive Haodrim out, but if I fail, I will honor your wish.”
“You would kill me?” Pendaran whispered.
“If that is the only wise choice open to me, yes.”
Pendaran relaxed in his arms, weeping quietly until he grew silent and his breathing softened.
“Will you take the draught?” Zhou asked him.
“Yes.”
“This will be difficult, Pen, but I want you to know someone will always be here with you and if the pain is too great or we see that you are dreaming, we can give you more.”
“I don’t want to dream, Master. He’s here, he speaks to me. Don’t let me dream.”
“It will be alright, Pen. It is used to render magicians harmless and soothe those plagued with nightmares. We will give you small amounts during the day to prevent you from hurting while you are awake and a larger amount at night so that you will sleep without dreaming.”
Pendaran nodded obediently, his grip tightening around Zhou’s chest.
“I can be awake? How long?”
“That depends upon how much we need to give you. I won’t lie to you, my friend, it is a terrible thing. It will make you sick and you will crave it. Over time, we will need to increase the amount to stabilize you. Because your dreams are dangerous, we cannot risk giving you too little and it is possible that for the first few nights you will suffer because of that.”
“I am prepared to die,” Pendaran murmured, “How much worse can this potion be?”
Zhou felt tears burning behind his eyelids. The brave but gentle man he loved emerged from the wreckage for a moment and gazed up at him.
“Are you ready?”
Pendaran nodded. Xiang Yi held out a small phial of a strange oily green fluid which Zhou took from him once it was unstoppered. Foul though it was, Pendaran accepted it without complaint, the only sign that he found it repulsive being a long shuddering sigh when Zhou gave the empty vessel back to Xiang Yi. Zhou felt as if he were betraying him. Lemony was watching him with a look of blank horror upon her face.
“Amuridan?” she whispered.
Zhou could not look at her. Pendaran coughed and shuddered as Zhou received a cup of cool water from Xiang Yi and gently pressed it against his unresisting lips.
“I’m sorry,” he said, loud enough for Pendaran to hear, “I failed you. Now I am poisoning you and if I do not find a way to save you, you will die in pain and misery. If you curse my name before the gods, it is no more than I deserve.”
“Beloved master, why should I curse you for the evil of others? You have never wanted anything but my happiness and wellbeing.”
“I still want that for you, Pen.”
Pendaran shuddered as the Amuridan burned in his stomach and his skin grew clammy. As if he were dying, the light faded from his eyes. His gaunt face relaxed as the tension left his body. Zhou held him a while longer, reassured by the slow beating of his heart that Pendaran was still with them and had merely descended into the dull waking stupor of the hideous toxin.
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