Chapter Twenty-Three
Voices drifted in and out as I slept. I couldn’t make any sense of them, except I knew they spoke with urgency. Time lost meaning. I felt no pain or hunger. Familiar people appeared now and again.
My grandmother, who I’d met a few times as a teenager and who’d passed away when I was eighteen, came to me. Her smile gave me hope. We sat on the back gate of her blue Chevy. It smelled as I remembered, of hay and fall leaves. She had lived out on a farm, and I had visited her for a few months during one summer. I wondered why I was here now, but the thought drifted, and soon I forgot where I was once again.
The voices came again.
“Escaped.”
“With the stone.”
“Will she live?”
The first coherent thought I had was of the brightness around me. White dots popped in and out of my vision as if I’d gotten caught in a lightning storm. I wanted to shield my eyes against the light, but when I tried to move, I found my hands tucked under a layer of thick blankets.
The second coherent thought I had was of my hunger.
As I opened my eyes, the bright dots disappeared, and I was able to focus on the dimly lit room around me. I lay on a large bed with sturdy oak posts so tall they nearly touched the wood-beamed ceiling. I recognized this room. Hadn’t I been here before? Yes—after the attack in the goblin lands. I remembered this room. A window partially covered by curtains and a glow coming from outside the door were the only sources of light. I lay in the room alone, listening, but heard only silence.
My stomach churned with hunger pains, and the terror of the past several days came back to me. Huddled and nearly naked in the cabin. No food or water. Beaten. Cold. Forced to create the portal. And now I was here. But what had happened to the bloodthorn and the fairies’ starstone?
As I sat up, my head spun with dizziness, so I did my best to steady myself. I removed my hands from underneath the blanket, thankful to find the enchanted chains missing. But, how had they been removed? My wrists were both wrapped in white gauze, and the constant stinging was gone.
Beside my bed sat a water pitcher and wooden drinking cup. With shaky hands, I grabbed them both and poured a cup of water. I sipped it slowly, feeling the cool wetness dampen my parched throat. After I finished the water, I replaced the cup on the table.
The sound of footsteps came from outside the door, and three people entered the room. I recognized Heidel, her sister Eugrid, and the little girl, Freydil. I’d met them in this same room.
Freydil was taller now, with long blonde hair that she wore in braids. She was six, perhaps? With her two top teeth missing, a few light freckles on her nose and cheeks, and a contagious smile, she looked adorable—and completely impish. Eugrid wore a white gown beneath a long green apron. Her belly bulged with a discernible baby bump. In her arms, she carried a tray laden with a fluffy loaf of bread and a dish of white butter. The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the room, and it took a great deal of self-control for me not to grab it away from her.
“Olive,” Heidel said as she stopped beside me. “Are you well?”
“It seems so, although I haven’t eaten in several days.”
“Days?” Eugrid said and quickly gave me the tray of bread. I grabbed up the loaf and took a bite. Ambrosia couldn’t have possibly tasted as good as that bread at that very moment. Pacing myself was impossible, and I swallowed whole bites without chewing.
“You were imprisoned by the bloodthorn?” Heidel asked.
I nodded. “What happened to him?” I asked between bites.
“He escaped. We tracked him into the wild lands near the elf kingdom’s border and would have continued to track him, but—despite the crossing—our injuries failed to heal, and some of us had lost much blood. We were forced to return. Unfortunately, we don’t know where he plans to go next.”
“He’s going to Dragon Spine Mountain,” I said. “The entrance to the undiscovered land is atop its peak.”
“How do you know?” Heidel asked.
“Because he tried to make me take him there. He had almost succeeded when you and the others arrived and stopped him. How did you know where to find me?”
“The detective came to us while we were imprisoned. He grew concerned once he learned you were no longer being held captive in the same prison we were in, so he paid the money himself to free us. With help from the other officials, we were finally able to learn of your location.
“We feared we were too late once we discovered he had taken you away from the cabin, but it seems we found you in time.”
I pushed the empty tray aside and rested my head against the wood-beamed headboard, realizing that if they’d arrived only a few minutes later, I wouldn’t be here right now.
“What of the others? Has everyone else recovered?” I asked.
“Yes, for the most part. You sustained the worst injuries of us all.”
“I wasn’t sure what to do with you,” Eugrid said. “I have never seen such injuries before. Removing the chains from your wrists took much effort, and only with the help of the fairies’ magic was I able to remove them. I’m afraid your wrists have lost most of their skin. You will most likely have permanent scars.”
I rubbed the gauze covering my wrists, feeling a mixture of emotions—grateful that the chains were finally gone, angry that I would forever be reminded of my time held captive by the bloodthorn.
“Also,” Eugrid continued, “you were bleeding from your ears and nose as if you’d been compressed from the inside. I feared you were bleeding internally as well, so I administered a draught to clot your blood flow and give your body time to heal. It was an unnatural malady to say the least, and I wasn’t sure I could save you. But others had faith in my abilities, even if I did not, and so I continued to do what I could. When I feared all was lost, your body began to heal, and so it seems you have overcome this malady.
“When you feel ready, you may bathe in the extra chamber. I can find clothing for you, and towels as well.”
It was then I realized what I must look—and smell—like. I prayed the Wults were familiar with shampoo and toothbrushes. And toothpaste. I would die to have any of that right now.
“Yes,” I said, “I’d like to bathe as soon as I can.”
Freydil turned to her mother, looking concerned. “What of Kull?” she whispered. “Shouldn’t you tell her?”
Heidel and Eugrid traded wary glances at the mention of their brother.
“Tell me what?” I asked.
“We do not wish to concern you while you are still healing,” Eugrid said.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Rest first,” Eugrid said with a strained smile. “There’s no need to burden you now. You will learn soon enough.”
“I’d rather you told me now,” I said. “What’s the matter?”
No one answered, which made me wonder what had happened. The last time I’d seen him, his chest had been cut open. Since the portal had failed to heal my injuries, it was likely his hadn’t healed, either. Was he dead? They’d said everyone else had healed from their wounds, but perhaps he had other problems. What could possibly be wrong with King Skullsplitter?
“You said you’d like for me to rest,” I said, “except I don’t think I’ll be able to until you tell me what happened.”
Eugrid eyed me. “You’re concerned about him?”
“No. Not at all. That is—I mean… I do care about his well-being, of course. Who wouldn’t? He is the king after all, right?”
I cleared my throat as the three looked at me.
“Yes, but he is not your king,” Eugrid said, “so why do you show such concern for him?”
Oh for the love of…
“I am not showing concern.”
“Very well. If that is the case, I assume we can tell you about him later, after you have recovered.”
Eugrid was more infuriating than her brother, if that were even possible.
Heidel sig
hed. “She will find out sooner or later, Sister. We might as well be the ones to tell her.”
Eugrid rubbed her swollen belly. “Perhaps.”
“He has given away his crown,” Freydil said before the others could.
Her mother shot her a dark glare.
“Sorry,” she whispered to her mother, then clamped her hands over her mouth.
“Given away the crown?” I asked, confused. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he felt he’d allowed the bloodthorn to escape with the fairies’ stone, and so he had broken his agreement to protect the fairies. He believed he was, in his words, ‘unfit to rule’. Two days ago, he relinquished the crown to Rolf, and we have not seen him since,” Heidel said.
“He’s in Grandamere’s cottage,” Freydil said. “I’ve seen him there.”
“You’ve been spying on him, no doubt,” her mother said.
“No!”
“Aye, you and your brothers go down there when you should be doing your chores. And me like this and not able to clean a thing. Yes, I know what you’re up to.”
“He’s asked about you,” Freydil said to me. “Shall I take you to him?”
“No, you most certainly shall not!” Eugrid said. “He’s got enough on his mind as it is. He doesn’t need someone like Olive distracting him.”
“Rolf?” I said, still trying to process the information. “He gave the crown to Rolf?”
“Yes,” Heidel said. “Obviously, he is not in his right mind, but I can’t say that I am surprised. His foul mood has only grown worse since his failure with the fairies, and I had hoped he was beginning to come out of his dark stupor.”
What in the world was he thinking? Rolf? The boy was barely a man. He had no practical sense. He may as well have given the crown to the T-rex fossil he stole, wherever he put the outlandish thing.
“I need to go,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I am afraid I must speak with him. After I bathe.”
“You can’t go,” Eugrid said. “He must sort through this on his own, and I’m afraid you will only remind him of our father’s death. It is not easy for him to be around you.”
“But,” Heidel said, “it may be wise to let her speak with him.”
“Why?”
“Because she may be able to make him see reason.”
I held back a laugh. “See reason? I don’t think so. I infuriate him more than anything else.”
“Then it’s right that she stay in the castle and not go to him. We must let him be. I will send fresh clothing and towels, and more bread if you wish. Come,” she said, turning to her daughter, “we must let her rest.”
Freydil followed her mother out of the room, but Heidel stayed behind. After the sound of their footsteps disappeared down the hall, she turned to me.
“You don’t believe me when I say that you make my brother see reason?”
“No. Not at all.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Then perhaps you don’t see yourself the way I do.”
“How do you see me?”
“I see you as someone who has the potential to make my brother a better person.”
“Why is that?”
“Because you understand him in ways that others do not. You are not the only person to have this ability, so please do not suppose I believe you to have an exceptional gift. Ket knows how to reason with him, too, most of the time. Our mother also has this ability, although they are both at the Northland keep at present. Thus, the responsibility falls to you. My sisters and I are not able to make him see clearly.”
“What makes you think I can?”
“Because, at one time, he trusted you. And because it’s my belief that he loved you once. I know he has closed his heart off to you, but I fear he will never heal completely until he has resolved his feelings for you. He can’t afford to be indecisive. His engagement to Lady Ket, while a political arrangement, must hold strong if our people are to be united.”
I remained silent, a mixture of emotions welling up within me. He loved me once. Past tense. I knew which choice he’d made now.
“Heidel,” I said quietly, “you know as well as I that I cause him pain. Every time he sees me, he sees your father’s death all over again. Wouldn’t it be best if we remained separated?”
“Yes, perhaps. But if that’s the case, then you must make the decision easy for him.”
“I’m confused. You wanted me to speak with him, but now you think we should remain separated?”
“I want you to make him see reason—that’s all. You must make your feelings clear to him. If you care for him, you must tell him. If you don’t, then it’s best that you not be here. Your presence is doing him no favor. His spirit has been broken for quite some time, and he will not heal until he is able to move forward.”
“I see.”
“Do you care for him still?” she asked.
I swallowed, not sure how to answer the question. Somehow, I knew that a piece of myself always belonged with him. Heidel didn’t need to know such a thing, so I told her what she wanted to hear.
“I suppose I don’t. Not anymore.”
“Then you must tell him. After the quest to find the fairies’ stone is finished—assuming you are able to encourage him to make the journey—you must leave him and never return.”
“Yes. I understand.”
But did I? I wasn’t prepared to give him up. Whatever relationship we had now—even a tenuous treaty that was shaky at best—was better than never seeing him again.
“I will let you rest,” she said. “Please consider my words. Carefully.”
“Of course.”
She left the room. I stared at the door, wondering if that was the way I was always meant to be—alone. I shook off my thoughts and got to my feet, which took quite a bit more time than I had anticipated. Besides feeling as if I’d been hit by a bus, every muscle in my body being sore, and my head still groggy, I now had the chore of speaking with Kull while attempting to distance myself from him at the same time.
I’d faced some difficult odds before, but this would be impossible.
I hobbled to the room’s bathing chamber. The bare stone tiles felt cold under my feet as I entered through the heavy wooden door. The chamber was a simple, clean room with a copper tub and exposed pipes. The hot water felt heavenly, except bathing, just as walking, turned out to be another difficult task. After I’d finished, I was thankful to discover I’d begun to feel human again.
Returning to the bedchamber, I found a stack of clothing on the bed. I inspected the clothing and found a long, dark blue dress, similar in style to Eugrid’s, and a red mantle, which I assumed I was to wear over the dress. The fabric felt soft and silky, though quite thick, and would do a nice job of keeping me warm. The mantle had been embroidered with gold stitching, and as I scrutinized it closer, I found stags, leaves, berries, and round trumpets woven throughout the heavy cloth. I also found a pair of soft leather boots sitting beside the bed.
After dressing, I inspected my new ensemble in the room’s floor-length mirror. I looked Wultish, for sure. If not for my ears and my short hair cut in a bob, I might have been mistaken as one.
A light rapping sounded at the door, and I crossed the room and opened it. Freydil stood there, smiling up at me.
“Are you ready?” she whispered.
“Ready for what?” I asked.
“To go to the cottage,” she answered.
“Won’t you be punished for taking me there?” I asked.
“No. I only get whipped when Mum catches me,” Freydil answered, “so we must use the back entrance and take the long path to the cottage.”
“I would rather not go,” I said, “if your mother would get angry—”
“She is too tired of late to get angry. Besides, she cannot scream at me the way she used to because she runs out of breath too quickly. Come,” Freydil said as she grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the room.
She led me down the hall to a stairwell. We walk
ed quietly down the stairs to a door that led outside. As soon as she opened it, a strong gust of wind struck us. It was late afternoon, and fiery yellow-and-orange leaves tumbled past as the wind whisked them away.
“This way. The cottage is down this path at the bottom of the hill,” Freydil said as she tugged on my hand.
“Freydil,” I said, stopping her. “I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t disobey your mother. I thank you for showing me the way, but I can go alone from here.”
She frowned but then seemed to think for a moment. “Perhaps I can go explore the dungeons instead?”
“Sure. The dungeons sound lovely.”
“There’s a skeleton down there, though I’ve never seen it. Very well,” she said with a sigh, “I shall be in the dungeons if you need me.” Freydil turned away and raced down the hall.
I stepped outside, and the fresh air seemed to heal me better than anything thus far. The warm sunlight on my cheeks, the feel of the dirt beneath my boots, the birds chirping, all seemed to make my fear disappear.
It was a glorious day, with not a single cloud in the sky, as if, when I looked up, I could see all the way to Heaven. The blueness of the sky was striking, crystal clear and perfect, almost depthless. I felt small under the sky, yet somehow large at the same time.
Before I knew it, I’d made it to the bottom of the hill. I followed the path around a bend as sounds of chopping wood echoed from up ahead.
I came to a clearing but didn’t enter. Instead, I stopped behind a wide oak tree, inspecting the cottage from where I stood. It was larger than I had expected—two stories, with stained-glass windows and a thatched roof. Alongside the cottage was a large stack of wood, and Kull stood next to it, ax in hand, splitting logs into smaller pieces.
He seemed completely oblivious to the world around him. It was him and the wood and nothing else. Chop, split, chop, split. Absorbed in his work, he needn’t worry about anything else—wars, politics, missing fairy stones, lost loved ones, old flames.
He’d taken his shirt off to reveal a deep scar that ran down his chest. Months ago, I would have swooned at the sight of his bare torso, but now, I was past that.
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