Falling Through Portals

The Dark Cloud

Chapter 98

Percy could feel blisters on his bare arms. It was a painful contrast to parts of his body where the sand had rubbed it raw.

The baking sun nailed him to the ground. The pain in his leg finally eased to a dull throb, but the sun, could it have possibly be getting hotter?

Reaching around desperately with his magic, he tried to pull water up from the ground. Nothing. Percy rolled onto his back and groaned. He clenched his jaw and grains of sand squeezed out between his teeth. His whole mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Not a lick of moisture.

Percy cried out and his eyes watered only for a moment before they turned to steam.

It was getting hotter.

His whole body shuddered. All of his sweat had already dissipated, leaving him grilling on the burning hot sand. Shielding his eyes from the sun with his forearm, Percy felt the dry blisters rub against his forehead. If he hadn't been so weak he would have found a way to burrow into the sand, anything to get away from the sun.

He could barely think beyond the heat. It . . . it was killing him.

The son of the sea was dying in a desert.

And if anyone laughed at the irony . . . he was going to knock their lights out.

. . . After . . . after a little rest. He would . . . make sure . . . he would make sure . . .

He lost all thought. His body was begging him for sleep. He knew that it could be the most dangerous choice he had made. At this point the odds of waking up after this were beyond low. And he was so tired.

Finally he relented, slipping into a sleep like death.

********

"Make way!!" John yelled as Militum carried Percy over the threshold of the farm house.

Sherlock paled a little bit at the sight of the boy passed out in Militum's arms. His skin was bright red and his body was completely unresponsive.

"Where can we take him?" John demanded of Sherlock.

Sherlock was slow to respond. Suddenly footsteps thundered down the hall from above. Sherlock looked up to see Lorem lock her eyes on Percy and Militum.

"Percy!" she yelled, running even faster down the stairs. Sherlock could have sworn her feet didn't touch the ground.

Sherlock stepped out of the way as she barreled past, her hand going to Percy's forehead.

She cried out, "He is burning up," looking to the room next to them, "Bring him in here."

Militum followed her anxiously. Sherlock was tempted to watch them use their special abilities to heal him –since it was obvious there wasn't a scientific solution in this era. But he wanted to avoid another headache today. Instead he watched John as he stared after them. His friend's eye caught on the wallpaper and beautiful carving around the mirror in the next room. John frowned and looked around at the elegant entry way. He looked back at Sherlock.

He was going to ask, wasn't he?

"Where are we?" John demanded. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "What is this place?"

After all their time together, poor Watson still couldn't grasp the obvious very well. "Oh come on John, think."

John gestured to the house around him, "Whose house is this? Is this one of Mycroft's safe houses or something?"