To the Eternal (Away From Whipplethorn Book Five)

by Hartoin, A. W.

  I found his pulse in his green neck. It was slow, but that might be normal for phylliids. His pulse was steady and strong. “What sounds weird?”

  “He’s kind of groaning,” said Iris.

  Leanna knelt down and listened. “Wow. I can barely hear that right here. Your ears are good.”

  “Anything else, Iris?” I asked. “Listen to his heart for me, please.”

  “Where is it?”

  “You tell me.”

  Iris listened at various spots and finally figured out that Gledit had two hearts, one where his kidneys would be and the other was in his neck, not that he really had a neck, just the spot below his face. “They’re okay. No squishiness or struggle like with Miss Penrose when she was sick.”

  I asked Percy to carry Gledit back up to the top of the tooth because I didn’t know how else to get inside. Percy tried to pick him up with his tail, but Gledit’s flat body ended up getting squeezed in the middle. I was afraid whatever organs he had there would get hurt.

  “Never mind, Percy,” I said. “You can go back up and roast.”

  Percy patted me with one of his whiskers and flew off slowly.

  Iris and Leanna tried to pick up Gledit, but he was so limp, he folded in half. That couldn’t be good for him.

  “He’s as heavy as Horc,” said Iris.

  “Heavier,” said Leanna. “And he’s so noodly, we’ll never get him to the top.”

  I agreed and sent Leanna off to get Ruffiano and a stretcher.

  “What do you think happened to him?” asked Iris.

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t have any wounds that I can find. It’s almost like he’s drunk.” I sniffed Gledit. “But I don’t smell anything on him.”

  A few minutes later, the wall melted next to us. Through the door hurried Ruffiano and two galen. He took one look at Gledit and a change came over him. He relaxed and said, “Oh, he’s had one too many.”

  “You think he’s drunk?” I asked.

  “What else could it be?”

  Something about the way he said it told me that Ruffiano had a pretty good idea of what else it could be. I didn’t question him, though. He wasn’t going to give me a real answer. They loaded my master secretary onto a stretcher and we followed them into the tooth, down stairs and through corridors to the hospital.

  The huge room was just as packed as before, but we wedged Gledit in at the end next to the wide doors.

  “I’ll find Hercule for you,” said Ruffiano.

  The two galen with us got Gledit settled on a narrow pallet and covered him up with a warm blanket. They wouldn’t speculate about what was wrong with him, saying that Hercule would talk to us. Then they hurried off, anxious to be away from us.

  “Do you get the feeling that they know what happened?” asked Iris.

  Leanna walked in with a glass of cloudy water for Gledit and said, “I do.”

  I looked across the hall. Hercule walked in the other set of doors at the end, where the new patients had arrived and Ruffiano met him at the foot of Rickard’s bed. Another Montague came to the door and waited until they’d finished before hurrying up to Ruffiano. It was the fairy Gledit had been flirting with earlier.

  Hercule strode down the long aisle. His hair was back to normal and flowed in soft waves. He was looking at me and only me. It made me nervous. I’d planned on avoiding the hospital and the galen, in general, but I couldn’t run off. Gledit was my master secretary.

  “Matilda,” said Hercule.

  “Something happened to Gledit.” It came out fast. I didn’t know I was really worried until that second. My master secretary seemed like he’d survive, but what did I know? A big fat nothing, that’s what.

  A lock of Hercule’s hair reached out to me and patted my shoulder. “Let me take a look.”

  He listened to Gledit’s hearts. He knew exactly where they were without looking it up or anything. Then he took his temperature with an ash leaf. It didn’t curl. No temperature. “Don’t worry. He’s drunk.”

  “Drunk on what?” I wasn’t buying it. “I don’t smell anything.”

  “It would take an infinitesimal amount of alcohol to get him in this state. Phylliids are very sensitive,” said Hercule.

  “You’ve seen a phylliid before?”

  He laughed. “No. I looked up his species when you arrived. Extraordinary creatures. Known for their loyalty and organizational skills.”

  Hercule’s eyes bored into me. I would’ve stepped back on instinct, but there was nowhere to step. “He is pretty organized. We should get out of your way.”

  “How did you meet Gledit?”

  “He’s my dad’s friend, like Rickard,” I said.

  “Interesting that none of your party have come down with the same symptoms as Rickard. They are highly contagious in a contained environment.”

  “We wash our hands,” said Iris. “That’s how we were raised.”

  Leanna nodded. “And no sharing food.”

  “Germs,” I said.

  “All good policies,” said Hercule. “Perhaps you would like to know that the little hobgoblin will live.”

  “Uh…good. I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Considering the amount of bleeding, her recovery is extraordinary, don’t you think?”

  Must leave.

  “I really wouldn’t know. Maybe it just wasn’t her time.”

  “In my experience, medicine has everything to do with timing,” said Hercule. “The right treatment at the right time by the right healer.”

  “She’s in good hands.” I took Iris’s hand and squeezed, praying she’d think of something.

  The lock of Hercule’s hair came over again. This time, it looped around a lock of my long black hair. “Your hair is beautiful and so familiar, too.”

  Familiar?

  Ruffiano came down the aisle. “Oh, good. Are you going to get started?”

  “With what?” asked Hercule.

  “Treating Matilda’s wing. Your assistants said that Gledit is only drunk. If you have the time to treat our guest, it would be much appreciated.”

  Hercule’s hair let go of mine. “I don’t think Matilda is interested in treatment.”

  “Oh yes, I am,” I said. “My wing is killing me.”

  Hercule’s eyebrows shot up. “Really. How surprising. Of course, I will make the time.”

  “I want to visit Rickard, too,” said Iris.

  “He’s still unconscious, but you can talk to him, give him your extraordinary love,” said Hercule with an emphasis on extraordinary. This wasn’t good. We had to get out. Soon. Very soon.

  “We’re having a banquet tonight.” Ruffiano’s face saddened so much that it was painful to look at. “For Giacomo. We’d like you to come.”

  “Ruffiano,” I said. “I’m so sorry. I can’t have one of our dragons fight a duel. We can’t take sides in whatever is going on with your families. There must be another champion you can pick.”

  He shook his head. “Giacomo will fight his own fight. He caused this and there is no way out that I can see.” He excused himself and left the hospital.

  “Maybe Ovid could just eat Oliverio a little,” said Iris.

  “He’s a dragon. Setting him against a cliff fairy, no matter how good with the sword, would be murder,” I said.

  Hercule nodded. “And this isn’t your place anyway. Giacomo should’ve known that. This could set off an international incident. The Capulet allies would cry foul. There would be retribution.” He led us away from Gledit and down the aisle toward Rickard. We stopped briefly at his bedside, but he didn’t wake up.

  “This way to my treatment room.”

  Leanna held me back. “I should go back and check on Horc. Will you be alright on your own?” She said it like she was in charge. Nice job.

  “I’ll be okay. Iris will stay with me.”

  Iris nodded and Leanna left. Hercule took us into a small room with shelves covering every inch of wall space. The shelves sagged with the wei
ght of bottles, jars, and bags. The room smelled like every spice, flower, leaf, and root rolled into one.

  “Have a seat.” He gestured to a cushy chair. I sat down and Iris took a stool beside me as Hercule gathered an armload of ingredients. He asked his assistants to fill a large basin with hot water and sprinkled a multitude of leaves and powders in the steaming water. He sat down on a little rolling stool and examined my injured wing. “What was this caused by?”

  “I caught it on something, but I keep opening up the scars.”

  “Yes, I can see that. It’s not easy to open up scars of this nature. It takes effort.”

  I said nothing. A regular wood fairy wouldn’t have ripped open those scars. I knew that, but I’d been hoping he wouldn’t. Of course, regular fairies didn’t get attacked by Icelandic flutterflanges very often either.

  “Your wings are luminescent.” Hercule seemed like he was going to say something else, but his assistants came in to gather medicines. “I’m going to have to cut away the scar tissue. It has healed badly after being reopened.”

  “Cut it away?” asked Iris horrified. “Will it hurt?”

  “Yes, but tea tree oil should help with the pain.” Hercule brushed my scars with the oil and began to cut. Did it hurt? Worse than when the sea serpent slit it open in the first place. I gritted my teeth and gripped the arms of the chair while Iris covered her eyes. I don’t know what was harder, the pain or the effort to keep from burning Hercule’s face off. I didn’t have much fire, but I could barely contain what I did have. It ran in rivers through my body. If Hercule knew what was going on, he didn’t show it. Maybe the steady stream of assistants kept him from saying more. Whatever it was, I was grateful.

  When he was done, my blood covered his hands. The tiny feathers that covered my wings littered the floor with pieces of my flesh. Iris looked and had to clamp her hands over her mouth to keep from vomiting.

  Hercule patted my shoulder. “You withstood that better than anyone I’ve ever known. Your strength is…interesting.”

  Great. Even getting through a treatment without screaming was suspicious. If I’d known that, I’d have screamed. I had plenty of screams in me during that horror.

  Hercule asked for another pitcher of hot water. One of the assistants brought one that was steaming and dumped it in. Hercule added some white willow tincture—a whole bottle—and stirred the slurry with a big wooden spoon. “This is going to sting a little.”

  Allura rushed in. “Oh, I was hoping you were done.” She saw the blood and wrinkled her nose.

  “We’re beginning the soak. What do you need?” asked Hercule.

  “Never mind. I’ll handle it.”

  “Allura.”

  She gave in and said, “We got several Maasai geckos in. They’re not translucent.”

  “I’ll be right there,” said Hercule.

  “You can tell me what to do,” said Allure.

  Her grandfather smiled. “I could and I would, if I knew what to do.”

  Allura returned his smile and left. He stirred the concoction in the basin again and his hair stirred from its gentle waves and into thick coils that would come together and then break apart. He took my hand, closed his eyes, and recited a poem I’d never heard before.

  Tell the truth but tell it slant—

  Success in Circuit lies

  Too bright for our infirm Delight

  The Truth’s superb surprise

  It wasn’t a poem about me exactly, more a poem about what he wanted from me, but it worked. An image of me appeared in the water. I was bound and blindfolded. I began to spin and the bonds broke away. I wanted to say something. I bit my lip, hard enough to hurt. I was going to say my name, my whole name, unless I found a way to fight it. The truth. All the crazy truths I knew and didn’t want to keep hidden came bubbling up. I bit them back. I had to keep them down where no one could find them.

  Hercule opened his eyes and eased my wing into the hot water. I didn’t gasp. I couldn’t afford to.

  “Did I ever tell you my gift?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Healing, obviously. There’s another. One that I rarely have need of. I can make truth spells. They are powerful and, may I say, unbreakable.”

  I was going to say something. I had to. I wanted to. Iris took my hand and kissed my cheek. Then something else was there beside my secrets. It was love. Hercule was wrong. His spell was breakable. Iris’s love wasn’t.

  Hercule stared at us, clearly astonished. I wanted to explain it to him, but that would mean giving up some truth, so I just stared back.

  Allura rushed in. “One’s turned black. They ate truffles.”

  Hercule jumped up, pointed at me, and said, “Don’t move.” He ran out with Allura and closed the door.

  “Did he lock it?” I said when I thought it was safe.

  “No,” said Iris. “He just kept running.”

  “You broke the spell.”

  She grinned, “It’s my job.”

  “Stopping me from breaking our cover?” I asked.

  “I’m your wingman.”

  Iris was my wingman since the moment of birth. I’d miss her more than I could say.

  “I’ll make sure you get to Rome and the Vatican so you can be seen.”

  She hugged me. “I never doubt you.”

  And she didn’t.

  Chapter Sixteen

  THE WATER WAS cold. I gingerly lifted my wing out of Hercule’s potion and examined the wounds. Not bad. Not bad at all. As soon as Hercule had gone, I’d reheated the basin to steaming, soaked my wing, and then reheated it again. Most of Hercule’s ingredients weren’t labeled and I couldn’t tell what they were, but they worked. I used a towel to dry off and marveled how the healing had already started and was pretty advanced. It would’ve taken a week to do get that much healing done without Hercule. I would’ve liked to stick around and learn, to study Hercule’s techniques and ingredients. I’d like to know what a Maasai gecko was and why they were supposed to be translucent. Hercule could’ve taught me so much, but we had to go. Giacomo made sure of that.

  I almost told Iris about my plan, but I held off. It would break her heart to leave Rickard and now Gledit, if he wasn’t better. To her, they were family, but Mom and Dad took priority, not to mention everyone else we loved that the French rebellion had their scummy hands on. Plus, the empress with her disease, needed the surviving vermillion.

  I folded up the towel and asked, “Is anyone outside the door?”

  “Nope,” said Iris. “The gecko things are barfing now.” She listened hard at the door. “Hercule says they have something called the tzatziki terror.”

  “That sounds bad.”

  “They smell like cucumber.”

  “Maybe not,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Iris touched my hand. “I want to see Rickard. I’ll be quick.”

  I wanted to say no, but how could I? Rickard didn’t deserve my sister’s love, but she wanted to give it to him anyway. I opened the door slowly and peeked around the edge. Galen and patients packed the hall that had been clear earlier. Most of the new patients were a kind of lizard that resembled the Cardinal of Venice with suckers on their toes and bulging eyes. They definitely weren’t translucent though. They were white and kinda lumpy. The scent of cucumbers and dill filled the hall. It wasn’t bad at first, but it got overwhelming quick.

  Iris and I snuck down the hall past the lumpy lizards and slipped into the main hospital. No one seemed to notice us. The galen were too busy. We went to Rickard’s bedside and Iris knelt beside him, taking his hand. I kept an eye out for Hercule and Allura until Iris tugged on my skirt.

  “Matilda, get down here,” she said.

  Rickard’s eyes were open, not much, just slits, really, but open.

  I got on the other side of the bed and whispered, “You’re better. Can you travel?”

  Rickard’s lips moved, but I couldn’t get what he said.

  “What was that?” I asked
Iris.

  “No. He’s still really sick. But he wants to tell you something.”

  Great. He probably hopes that my wings fall off and rot.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “Lay it on me.”

  “They know,” he whispered. Just those two words took a good deal of effort and it pulled on my heart strings. I didn’t think I had any strings for Rickard, the nasty piece of frog filth.

  “Know what?” I asked.

  “That you’re a kindler.”

  I froze and stared at Iris. She shrugged. “How do you know?”

  “A fairy told Ruffiano. They thought I was still unconscious. She said that she heard you talking. She said there was something else special about you, but you didn’t come out and say it.”

  “That female that was flirting with Gledit at breakfast. I bet she was with him on the ramparts.”

  Iris flushed. “She attacked him. I knew he wasn’t drunk. He doesn’t even drink Communion wine.”

  “Ruffiano said not to let you know.” Rickard closed his eyes for a second. I thought he’d passed out, but he opened them again. “Leave me.”

  “No,” said Iris.

  “You must.”

  “I can’t. You’re my master secretary. I love you.” Her tears dripped on his hand and she kissed them away.

  The smallest of smiles curved his dry, cracked lips. “Go. I’ll catch up.”

  I didn’t imagine Rickard being selfless, but, for the first time, I only felt good intentions coming from him. Otherwise, I would’ve thought he was up to something, sick as he was. I took his other hand. “If you don’t, we’ll come back for you.”

  “I know you will. Go tonight. Quickly, before they figure out you’re the princess.”

  Iris kissed his forehead and tucked his arms under the blanket to keep them warm.

  “Take the knife,” he whispered. “Protect the cardinal until I can.”

  “He’s delirious,” said Iris. “He thinks we’re in the cathedral.”