Now, I’ve never been the claustrophobic type, but I can tell that I felt more than a little uncomfortable as the servants began to close in on me in a tight circle. I backed up against a wall, still straining to listen to everyone.
“Now, everybody, let her breathe! How is she supposed to fix anything if you all suffocate her first?” The semi circle parted and Alex stood with a small bag under his arm.  I froze against the wall completely, wondering how he kept finding ways to be my hero.  I let a small, shaky smile form on my lips and he nodded to me in respect. The crowd mostly dispersed.
Alex sat me down on a twin sized bed in the servant sleeping quarters.  The mattress was springy and uncomfortable.  He sat on the bed across from me and took my left arm in his hands.  He pulled fresh bandages out of his bag and began to re-wrap the ones on my forearm.
“I didn’t know it was this bad,” I mumbled dejectedly, casting glances around the large room which was honestly just a divided part of the palatial basement.  Alex snorted quietly, still concentrating on my arm.
“Yeah, I bet.” I scrunched my eyebrows together.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked defensively, pulling my arm away from him.  He rolled his eyes and sighed, finally raising his stern gaze to meet my angered one.
“You want to help these people, don’t you?” I nodded immediately. “You’ve never been down here before, right?” I opened my mouth to give my reasons, but Alex interrupted me. “Right?” I nodded reluctantly. “How are you supposed to help those whom you know nothing of? You don’t know how they live. You don’t try to talk to them one-on-one.  You don’t know their names.” His eyes flashed as he gathered my arm back into his hands, and I watched him. He studied my arm again, continuing to wrap the gauze over the bandage. “It’s like…It’s like watching those starving children somewhere in Africa, and donating money and everything.  Which is great, really it is. But you only feel that temporary guilt, or pity.  It doesn’t consume your life.  This IS their life, Camille.”
I let that sink in, still watching him intently.  He head was bent low, examining my other arm now, though that one only had a few scrapes and cuts.  He brought out a disinfectant and I tried not to shy away from it. “Tell me how to do this,” I requested quietly.
He made eye contact with me suddenly, but not angrily, just passionately. “Open up your beautiful bright brown eyes for once and actually LOOK at what you’re seeing. When you care, you care with everything you’ve got. I know you do. You wouldn’t be risking everything for Lena right now if you didn’t. You’re not a bad person, Camille, so don’t think that’s what I’m saying. But you think you can only love a few, and those few are extremely lucky because you’ll give anything for them.” He paused to take a breath. “You don’t have to limit your love.  That’s what unconditional love is. You give it and you keep on giving. Your heart is big enough for that, that’s obvious.”
“Alex—”
“Let me finish. These people worship you. They would follow you into a pitch-black tunnel with blood smears all over it if you said it was safe. Hell, I’d probably do the same. Saint Faith? Really? I mean, they believe that you can save them.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“And you don’t agree,” I inferred.
“I believe that you can do anything that you believe you can do.” Another pause. “But you have to know how to do it right.” He stood briefly, just so he could pivot his body to sit on the same bed as me. “So, what are you going to do?”
“Call them in, one by one. Group by group.  I don’t know.  I don’t know how to do this right. I don’t know how to do it at all.” I turned my head to examine the wall.  Alex’s fingertips brushed the underside of my jaw.
“Do you want to do it alone?” he asked quietly.  I continued to study the wall.
“I think…” I trailed off, stopping the words and really considering the question. “I think that we should stick together. We’re always stronger together, right?” I looked back to Alex and a hesitant smile flirted with his mouth.
“Right.” He squeezed my hand. “Promise me we’ll stay together this time.” I watched as his eyes restrained their hope, not daring to think that I would agree.  I nodded.
“Promise,” I declared. “Did you find what you were looking for when you left?” I asked.  Alex’s eyes clenched and his jaw tightened. Then my eyes flashed up to see Lena, peering uncertainly around the curtain divider.  She saw me watching her and she fled to me.  Her speed was slightly reduced, she limped only a little.
“I’m okay!” she exclaimed happily. “I just sprained it,” she stated, pointing to her left ankle. “Oh!” She snapped her fingers as a magician would to make his assistant reappear. “I have a bruise, too! A BIG one! Well, almost. It hasn’t formed yet, like, you can’t see the purple part yet.” I smiled at her enthusiasm, even when she was injured.  She hugged Alex tightly and he returned the hug.
“Are you okay Luna Lena?” She smiled and laughed, nodding until her brown hair shook out around her.
“Saint Faith?” A squeaky voice called from somewhere behind the curtain. “Could I just have a moment of your time?” I nodded, then realized that they could not see me.  Alex stood and swiftly glided to the curtain, pulling it back so that the requester could enter. “Excuse me, Saint—”
“Please…” I didn’t know her name.  She quickly told me it was Andrea. “Andrea, I’m not a Saint.  You can call me Camille.” Andrea didn’t look too comfortable referring to me as anything less than a saint. “Honestly, I’m not a saint of any kind.”
“But you are!” Andrea appeared to be in her early thirties/late twenties.  Her slightly newer clothing fit her better than the sacks that I’d first seen the servants in.  She fiddled with the hem of her shirt nervously. “You fed us.”
“You were hungry.”
“You clothed us.”
“You were nearly naked.”
“You spoke for us.”
“You had no voice.” Andrea looked defeated.  I smiled grimly back at her. Alex had just explained to me what I needed to do, and I didn’t want to turn her against me, but it was irrational to have her regard me in such high standards. “What did you want to ask me about?” I wondered, offering the bed next to the one I sat on.  She opted for the floor instead, her flat dark brown hair lamely falling over her shoulders. So I sat on the ground with her.  Her eyes were wide as I eased myself down to sit next to her.
“Saint—” I gave her a stern look. “Camille, there is a disease going around us. Many have fallen ill or died, or gone missing. Those of us who are doctors cannot treat them; they have no instruments or medicine.  My brother has gone missing.  Malachi Drunham. I am Andrea Dunham. He is my little brother. Please find him. I’m begging you. I worry for his safety every minute.” I tried to keep my expression indifferent.
“Alex, would you please lead Lena outside?” Alex stood quickly and guided Lena by her shoulders out of the room. “His name is Malachi?” I asked. Andrea nodded. I groaned in my head. What was I going to tell her.
“Would you pray for him, Saint Faith?” The request took me so off guard I forgot to correct her when she called me Saint Faith.  I placed my hand on the top of her head. “Are you blessing me?”
“No, I’m not.” I resisted the urge to scream in her face that I had no divine powers. “Your brother is safe, I swear it.” Andrea stood and left.  Two more eager and slightly dirty faces peered around the curtain, quietly requesting to be let in.  I sighed almost inaudibly.
It was going to be a very long day.