“No, nope, no way, nuh-uh. Just because I haven’t slept in a few days—oh! the egg boiled!” I pull it out, peel it, and blend it. Emu egg puree. Yum. I pour the puree and apple juice both into the bowl, then pour it down Shade’s throat. He automatically pops up.

“You,” he says to Jack, “Why are you here?”

“I,” Jack said haughtily, “am trying to help.”

“You are not,” I say to Jack. “You wanted to let him die.”

“You suck,” he says, getting up. Jack storms off. Chicken, I think. Shade simply said it. I pull him towards one of the guest rooms and then walk into another. I was too sleepy to deal with Shade’s constant tossing and turning.

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