‘My groin is fine! It is my head that is hurting!’
‘Hmm.’
I stood up, grabbed a bowl of water for him.
‘Here,’ I told Te’rnu, ‘Drink this.’
He sipped timidly at the water bowl that I gripped in my hands, much as I had done when I had first arrived in Te’r’ok.
‘Yeah… I think we’re gonna have to get you some hair of the dog, buddy,’ I said.
‘Dog hair? What will I need that for?’
‘Not… not actual dog hair. It’s an expression: “hair of the dog that bit you”. It means-’
‘No,’ Te’rnu replied, shaking his head (and then clutching it again when doing so caused him pain), ‘I have never been bitten by a dog. Animals tend to like me.’
‘Oi, listen! It means…,’ I repeated, ‘Having more of whatever ails you.’
‘But it’s the Mutation!’ Te’rnu cried out.
‘It’s not the Mutation, mate,’ I responded, resisting the urge to laugh about it. ‘You just drank too much last night.’
‘Too much? Too much gin?’
‘Yes. You’re hungover.’
Te’rnu moaned. ‘Well, I do not like it.’
‘No. You wouldn’t.’
‘This is why you passed out, back near Te’r’ok?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah. Partially.’
‘I understand now,’ Te’rnu replied, now no longer clutching at his head but instead using his hands to block the sunlight from hitting his eyes.
I laughed. ‘Oh, Te’rnu… You won’t be doing that again in a hurry, will you?’
Did I really just say that? Was I turning into my mother?
I remembered Leya and I sneaking some of Mum’s wine when we were younger. Or rather, I remember us stealing some of her “painting juice” - as she would call it. Once Mum had gone to sleep, Leya and I took turns swigging from the bottle. I didn’t really like it at the time, but my sister seemed to, so I pretended I was having fun too.
Was my current level of alcohol consumption in any way related to that night?
Leya and I awoke in the morning, complaining of flu symptoms. Mum, understandably, was shocked - especially because the flu virus had been eradicated over a hundred years earlier. It didn’t take her long to find the empty bottle of wine hidden under my bed.
My Mum held Leya and I’s hair, as we spent the day throwing up into the toilet and a large bucket, respectively. I assumed that I was assigned the bucket simply because I was younger, and not because there was any favouritism going on. Maybe there was, though, looking back on it now.
‘No,’ Te’rnu replied. ‘I will not. I’m never drinking again.’
‘Yeah, we’ve all said that one before.’
My friend vomited up last night’s dinner on to my sister’s feet. I couldn’t help but enjoy the symbolism - just a little bit.
He moaned. ‘Ohhh… they will not like that.’
I grabbed a nearby bowl, put it next to him, and repositioned Te’rnu’s head so that it was over this container rather than this town’s monument to their Saviour. Thankfully, Te’rnu didn’t have hair he would need someone to hold up - I didn’t massively fancy that job.
‘Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll clear it up,’ I told Te’rnu, feigning exasperation.
I grabbed a spare bit of cloth that seemed to have been left behind after last night’s feast, and used it to wipe the vomit off the statue - hopefully, nobody was missing a headscarf or anything. I tossed the cloth behind some crates - just in case.
Seeing that the container of gin still had some remnants at the bottom of it, I scooped some up. Some of the alcoholic fumes wafted upwards into my nostrils.
Whew! Even I didn’t fancy any of that right now.
I offered it to Te’rnu, who recoiled, like I had, at the smell of it.
‘No!’ he moaned.
‘Yes!’ I countered.
‘I cannot drink it!’ he insisted.
‘You can, it’ll make you feel better.’
Te’rnu sighed. ‘OK. Just a tiny bit, though.’
‘That’s all I’m asking you to drink.’
My Arellian friend sipped a little of the alcohol and immediately vomited again. He groaned.
‘OK. Maybe a little too early for that,’ I told him. ‘We’ll try again later when your stomach is settled. Just keep sipping that water, will you?’
There was no reply. Te’rnu sat with his head in his hands.
‘I said: will you keep sipping that water?’
‘Yes,’ he groaned.
‘Good.’
I left Te’rnu to his own devices for a while. Walking slowly, so that my own hangover wouldn’t lead me to collapse again, I headed towards the top of a nearby hill.
From its peak, I could see the Iyr capital in the distance. The nearby sun rose just to the right of it, from where I was standing, and its rays reflected off the taller buildings. In this light, the city was beautiful.
I sat down for a while, watching distant ships land in the capital’s shipyards, and occasionally turning my attention to the Arellian village below. The locals were beginning to rise, and, like Te’rnu, they weren’t in the best of states.
It was just like Leya to forget to teach moderation.
Over the course of the day, the Arellians slowly returned to their usual selves - their bodies becoming less hunched, their voices becoming less raspy, and their moods becoming less irritable.
When I felt that Te’rnu had recovered enough to have a serious conversation, I approached him about what we’d discussed the night before - about how I could help him.
I coaxed him part-way up the hill, away from prying ears.
‘So what’s the plan?’ I asked.
‘The plan?’
‘Yeah, the plan. I told you I’d help, didn’t I? What’s the plan?’
‘There is no plan,’ Te’rnu clarified. ‘I need help with that bit too.’
I sighed. ‘OK, right. Well, then, let’s start brainstorming. What is it we want to achieve?’
‘We want to know the truth about the Mutation. And, perhaps, any other secrets that the Iyr are hiding.’
‘Great! So…,’ I asked, ‘If we could do anything at all, go anywhere we wanted, how would we find this out?’
‘I suppose we would go to Central Command. If there are files on the Arellians anywhere, it would be there.’
‘Central Command?’ I said, thinking of my
