Cenobar Trinordis (Part 10)

I shiver in my hotel bed, wracked with fever. Phethala stands over me, regularly replacing the cold compresses on my forehead. Qualamo and Binere have come to visit as well, but I am too sick to converse much. They stand silently off to the side with grave expressions. I am not sure if they are really there, or if I am imagining it. I do not know how many days have passed since Phethala and I made love in the storm. My mind is a burning haze. Continue reading Cenobar Trinordis (Part 10)