Why be content with a mere insult when you could go to the most unpleasant place possible? “Oh, Gavin,” Judah said.
“She said that ‘not awful’ was a step above what I’d always looked for in a woman. Which—” The fire snapped. He stared at his closed fists. “Everything used to be so simple. We were just...together. It worked. I went with other women, sure. But not seriously, and she never seemed to care. Now there’s nobody else—literally, nobody else—and suddenly she’s not sure she ever loved me. She said to me, we can make our own decisions now. Like there are any decisions to make, except die now or die later. And even that’s more the Seneschal’s choice than ours.” He pressed his hands to his eyes, digging at the sockets with the heels of his hands. “Gods, Judah, I can’t go on like this. Nothing is the way it was supposed to be. Why am I the only one who seems to notice that? Why am I the only one who cares about anything other than food?”
The inside of him was all twisting and agony. “Because food is important,” she said. “The rest of us are just surviving, Gavin, the same as we’ve ever done. But I know it’s different for you, and I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want your pity. I want your help.” He didn’t open his eyes, but his sadness and anger radiated. “You’re the only one who can actually help me. So help me, Judah.”
“I’m trying,” she said, and he said, “Not with words,” and put his hand out toward where he knew she would be. And because he didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t see her flinch; he didn’t see her hesitation, or her doubt, before she took his hand, anyway.
* * *
Theron’s fruit-drying contraption was clever but it took two people to take it apart so the drying trays could be brought in. Judah was helping him in the damp, fading evening, although her fingers felt stupid. Theron frowned as they worked. Judah knew he was probably thinking about the contraption, trying to figure out a better way. She was of no use; her mind felt stupid, too.
So when, out of nowhere, he said, “You shouldn’t let Gavin do what he does to you,” her stomach lurched, like she’d tripped and almost fallen. It was on the tip of her tongue to say Gavin doesn’t do anything to me, but Theron’s face was open and frank and so she didn’t bother. Instead, she said, “What do you know about that?”
“I know it makes you feel wrong. The magus feels wrong, too. He’s not what he says he is. He’s a pot with a lid, you know? You don’t see what’s under.”
“Everyone’s like that.”
“No,” he said. “You are, and Gavin is, and he is.”
His eyes did that thing she found so disconcerting, tracking nothing across the floor. But not mindlessly, not thinking of something else. Watching. “What about your cats?” she said. “Are they what they seem to be?”
He gave her a surprised look. “You can’t see the cats.”
“Theron,” she said as her eyes filled with tears, “there are no cats.”
It felt—to use his word—wrong. Like waking a sleepwalker. Theron only nodded. “I know. They’re not really cats. I think my brain just sees them as cats.” He considered. “I’m not sure they’re anything. I think they’re extra. Left over. Like when I used to take something apart and put it back together, sometimes it looked right and worked right, but there would be a piece left.” His eyes were wide and guileless. “I make you feel guilty.”
The tears were spilling over now. She dashed at them roughly. “I gave you the antidote too late. The magus said to give it to you as soon as he left. I waited too long. And now—” She stopped. She couldn’t say what Theron was now. She didn’t know.
“I’m not the same,” he said. “But I’m not unhappy. You are.”
He spoke so gently. She touched his hand. Sweet Theron—no, he had never been sweet. But he had been perceptive and honest. The hallucinations were new, but he had always seen what others hadn’t.
“I’m fine,” she said.
The next morning, she met the Seneschal in the courtyard. He gave her a hard look. “Have you seen the magus lately?”
She had. Was it the workshop? Was that the last time? She couldn’t think. “A few days ago, I guess.”
“You look tired.”
Judah no longer felt the need to be polite, and was tired