The violent heave of my stomach felt like someone was twisting my insides, squeezing my stomach to force out the last bit of the meal I had in there.
I leaned against the rough bark of the pine tree, my knuckles white as I gripped a low-hanging branch for support. Everything I had just eaten—the precious, comforting rice I had been craving so intensely—seemed to have turned into lead in my gut.
Hrrgh—!
I retched again, my eyes watering as the bitter taste of bile burned my throat.
"Arinya!" Fenric's voice was a thunderclap of panic. I heard the clatter of his bowl hitting the ground as he scrambled toward me.
Before he could reach me, Damar was already there, his cool, steady hands catching my shoulders to keep me from collapsing into my own mess. His emerald eyes were wide, scanning my face with a terrifying intensity, his tongue flicking frantically to taste the air for poison or sickness.
