Free The Devil's Paintbox by Victoria McKernan

Maddy approached, she could see that something was terribly wrong, even in the dim yellow glow of her lantern. Doc Carlos lay on the ground, his whole body twitching like some wounded animal.
    “Miss Maddy, please help!” Joby cried.
    Maddy heard violent retching sounds and ran over.
    “Push him over, Joby, on his side.” She knelt down, took Carlos's head in her hands and held it so he wouldn't choke. His shoulders convulsed and his stomach heaved, but nothing came out except some thin spittle.
    “It's the poison,” Joby said. He looked about to cry. Carlos flung out one arm and tried to push Maddy away.
    “Hush, it's all right,” Maddy said softly. Carlos's hair was soaked with sweat, his skin cold and clammy.
    “Go away,” he gasped.
    “Miss Maddy brought you some tea, Doc,” Joby said, pulling him up.
    “I don't want tea,” Carlos mumbled. He leaned back against the cart wheel and shut his eyes. Joby clumsily tried to pull a blanket up around his shoulders.
    “There's no more medicine,” Joby said. “I been putting water in the jug, like Doc said to. But he just took more andmore of it. Then he came back just now and finished all of it up. You think he's got poisoned?”
    “Doc Carlos—are you poisoned?” Maddy shook his shoulder. “Joby, will you go fetch Mrs. True? The reverend's wife?”
    “No,” Carlos said weakly. “I'm not poisoned. Don't fetch anybody.” He wiped his mouth on the edge of the blanket. “I'm fine. I'm not going to die.” He was shaking like a man just pulled from under the ice. Joby looked at Maddy his eyes wide with fear.
    “Do you have any sugar or honey?” she asked.
    “Yes, I think—somewhere.” Joby looked vaguely at the cart.
    “Think, Joby. Which box is it in?”
    He seemed panicked and about to cry. “I wasn't always stupid this way.”
    “I know.” Maddy patted his hand. “I mean, you're not stupid.”
    “Maddy?” Aiden's shadow appeared at the edge of the dim lamplight.
    “I'm here.” Maddy stood up.
    “Is everything all right?”
    “Doc Carlos has a fever is all.” She came over to his side. “I'm just going to sit with him and Joby awhile.”
    “Okay” Aiden said. “Can I do something?”
    “Can you go ask Mrs. True for some sugar, please?” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Tell her it's for the doc, who's feeling poorly. Say that his medicine is gone and ask what else she suggests for the way he is.” She gave him a look and Aiden thought for a second that she wasn't his little sister anymore, but a grown woman with knowing and secrets.
    “And Doc took a chill,” she added. “It would be awfully nice to have a little fire over here. There is some wood still, isn't there?”
    “I'll clear a place,” Joby said eagerly. He got a shovel and quickly chopped away a patch in the grass. Aiden came back a few minutes later with a shovelful of embers and the last bits of broken furniture. Marguerite came with him. She stood in the shadows and beckoned Maddy They whispered together as Joby and Aiden built a small fire.
    “Is he very ill?” Marguerite asked.
    “I don't know. He says he won't die.”
    They could see Carlos gripping a spoke of a cart wheel like a drowning man holding on to a rope.
    “Go back to our wagon, Maddy. I can stay with him.”
    “No, he's mad already that I'm here. Doesn't want anyone near but Joby, only Joby's afraid to be all alone with him. He ran out of the medicine. What should I do?”
    “It isn't your charge to tend him.”
    “He tended Aiden when he was sick,” Maddy replied. “And Joby's been a friend to us.”
    “Very well, then.” Marguerite handed her a paper cone of sugar, then took off her cloak and put it around Maddy's shoulders, for the night was getting cool. “The shaking and retching will come and go,” she whispered. “But it will be his mind that needs comfort as much as his body. He may see things—like in fever dreams. Talk to him, or read to him. I'll bring you the
Atlas of