"I'm not bound, no," Sennet said, and Edward had a feeling that she'd expected him to ask that question before. "Healers cannot be bound. But Ceidrin visited your house once, when your mother was alive. He may not accept word of your death if I lie to him."
"I can't be king," Edward said, and tried to ignore the fear that threatened to swamp him with that one little word.
"No, I'd say you can't," Sennet said. "Not if you're a wolf for most of the month. How were you cursed?"
Edward stopped right outside of the circle of trees that surrounded his house. "Arthur didn't even know that," he said, and shook his head, trying to dislodge the long-ago memories of that terrible night. "I told Elinor that a witch cursed me. An elvish witch."
"And was that the truth?" Sennet asked.
"Most of it," Edward replied, and started walking again.
"The elf who cursed you–do you know who she was?"
Edward snorted. "She didn't stop to give me her name." She hadn't stopped to do much, but murder her prey and then turn her wrath on him. "I...I interrupted her hunt."
"In the human realm?" Sennet asked, and he heard the surprise in her voice.
"My mother was an elf," Edward reminded her. "Elinor said that her cousin Ceidrin–your friend–lives here with his human lover. So it must not be that remarkable."
"But a hunt? That's a bit–obvious, here. No one hunts in the human realm unless they want to keep something secret."
"Then perhaps this elf wanted to keep her hunt secret," Edward said. "She was hunting a werewolf. When I...when I intervened, she killed the werewolf and hunted me instead." They had arrived at the house finally, and Edward touched the stone beside the front door, giving his wards Sennet's name and declaring her as much of a friend as Elinor.
For now, at least.
When he opened the door, Elinor appeared in the doorway of the parlor, her eyes widening when she saw Sennet behind him.
"Elinor, this is Sennet," Edward said, and held out the rabbits. "She's a–"
"A Healer," Sennet said. "And so, I gather, are you."
Elinor took his offering and stared at Sennet. "I–um. Oh, this is strange. Are you...do you know what's going on?"
"Ceidrin sent me," Sennet said simply.
"Then...he's alive? Thank goodness." Elinor took a deep breath. "I–"
"Why don't you eat first, and then we'll talk?" Sennet suggested. "Edward and I have some things to discuss, as well."
"We do?" Edward asked, frowning, and followed her gaze to his mother's sword, half-hidden in an umbrella stand in the hallway.
Rose padded out from the kitchen, sunshine in her thoughts. The sun dimmed when she saw Sennet, and she glanced at Edward, as if waiting for him to tell her everything was okay.
"This is Sennet, Rose," Edward said. "She's a Healer."
Sennet crouched down and held out her hand. "Hi, Rose."
Elinor vanished into the kitchen with another troubled glance at Sennet, leaving them alone in the hallway. To prevent another line of questioning, Edward walked into the parlor and sat down.
Sennet followed him a moment later with Rose at her heels. "We do need to talk," she said. "Despite your wards, you are in danger here."
"I wouldn't be in danger here if everyone thought I was dead," Edward said, staring into the fire. When Rose bumped his hand with her nose, he remembered himself enough to stroke the soft fur on her head.
"Is that what you want?" Sennet asked. "To be forgotten? To live behind your wards until you die?"
"I was–" He wanted to say 'fine', but he hadn't been fine. He'd been starving to death, weary beyond belief, and ready to give up. He closed his eyes. "My mother petitioned someone in Faerie to intervene after I was cursed, but nothing ever came of it. I think she might have known who cursed me, but she never spoke that name to me."
"She kept you here," Sennet said, and he thought he heard a thread of pity in her voice. "Alone."
"What else was I to do?" Edward asked, his mind full of formless questions, old resentment, and even older anger. "I was a wolf. Nothing more. And when she died–"
"Do you know how she died?" Sennet asked.
Edward opened his eyes. "You're going to tell me she was murdered, aren't you?" He'd found her body, untouched, lying on a bed of ferns in the forest. It had taken him almost an entire day to bury her, and another two weeks to wait until he had hands to make a marker for her grave.
That was when he had closed off their land from prying eyes. That was when he'd retreated, at least until Arthur found a way past his wards.
"I don't know that for certain, but Lucien thinks so," Sennet said softly.
"She died while I was a wolf," Edward whispered. "She died, and I...I couldn't even say goodbye." He found tears on his cheeks, to his surprise, and surreptitiously wiped them away.
"The sword out in the hallway–it's in paintings at the castle," Sennet said. "Along with your mother."
"Your mother's in a painting at the castle?" Elinor asked, appearing in the doorway with a mug of–something–in her hand. She looked a bit better; more awake now, her skin not quite as pale. "Which castle?" She glanced between Edward and Sennet, no doubt feeling the tension in the room. "What's going on?"
Edward sighed. "My mother's name was Nidrea."
"Oh." Elinor sat her mug down on the table beside the bookcase. "I see." She stood there for a moment, and Edward let the silence fill him up until his ears rang with the absence of sound.
Rose whuffed. It didn't help.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, not turning around. "Perhaps I should have told you before, when you mentioned her name. But I didn't want to get involved. Not like this, at least."
"This is my fault," Elinor said, surprising him. "If I hadn't hit you, you wouldn't have gotten involved!"
"Until someone discovered his existence and decided to eliminate the competition," Sennet said. "He wouldn't have been uninvolved forever."
Edward shook his head and tried to smile. "I doubt it's entirely your fault, Elinor. Sennet's right. Someone would have found me eventually. But now that I am found–"
"At least we found you, and not my aunt," Elinor said. "But–"
"I think we've both agreed that there isn't any way Edward can assume the throne," Sennet said.
"I don't want to, regardless!" Edward stood up and stalked over to the bookcase. And then, when it gave him no peace, he turned, folded his arms, and glowered at them both. "My mother was not very fond of crowns. And neither am I."
"Will you come back with me to my house, at least?" Sennet asked. "To talk to Ceidrin? He won't bite. He'll understand."
"He'll understand what?" Elinor asked.
"That I cannot be king," Edward said. "That I want no part in this." He sighed. "Despite the fact that I seem to have no choice."
"You still have the option to close your wards and drive us all away," Sennet said. "But there is nothing in my house that will cause you any harm."
"I'm not sure I believe you," Edward said. He wanted to close off his house and land and vanish behind his wards. But if he did that; if he retreated and Elinor's aunt--his aunt, too, he realized--broke through his wards, he would have no one to turn to. He would have no allies.
And he was beginning to realize that he needed allies. Especially in this.
"I'll go with you," he said, and tried not to think about what going with them would entail. "Can Rose come, too?"
"Of course," Sennet said. "She is welcome to come."
"Just...just give me a little time," Edward whispered, and fled the room before she could insist on leaving right away. He heard Elinor call after him, but Sennet stopped her from following, her voice both calm and low.
And only Rose followed him, her presence a welcome silence at his back.
Despite the cold, he went outside and sat on the porch, shivering until he remembered he could shift shape and stay warm. But shifting shape seemed too much of a reminder as to what he would lose in a cou
ple of days, so he sat and shivered with Rose pressed against his side. He didn't try to talk to her, and she stayed silent as well, her head on his knee, staring out at the snow.
When the first light of dawn cast long fingers of light across the snow, Edward stirred. Stiffly, he rose to his feet, realizing that he felt a bit--lighter now, as if the silence had strengthened him somehow. Leaving did not seem to be so terrifying a prospect now.
He walked inside with Rose beside him, liberated his mother's sword from the umbrella stand, and went in search of Sennet and Elinor.
He found them both in the kitchen, sharing a morning cup of tea. There was a third cup on the stove, waiting for him.
"Ceidrin's lover is a chef," Sennet said when he hesitated in the doorway. "I'm hoping I can convince him to cook us breakfast, if he's up to it."
Him? Edward decided not to ask. "I'm--ready when you are," he said instead.
"Will your wards let us leave?" Sennet asked.
"Yes."
"Then let's go," Sennet said. "Just take my hand, and hold onto Rose. You may want to close your eyes. It can be a bit disorienting."
Edward twined his fingers in Rose's fur and took Sennet's hand. She, in turn, grasped Elinor's hand and they stood there for a moment, entwined.
And then, almost before he could blink, they were--somewhere else. And for the first time in many years, he found himself curiously relaxed, as if nothing they could come up with could touch him now, even though he knew that wasn't true at all.
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* * *
Chapter Eighteen
Ceidrin had every intention of falling asleep and staying that way, but Sennet's doorbell rang an hour after she left and no one else seemed to be up to answer it.
Not quite predictably, there was an elf standing on her doorstep, a girl who looked vaguely familiar but whose name had never made it into Ceidrin's mind.
Sennet had not said what to do if anyone arrived asking for help. And as it was, the girl seemed fearful enough to leave if he left her standing out there, so he opened the door.
"Oh--you're alive!" She stepped back at the look on his face. "I...I told Sennet you hadn't gone home. She said she would find you--"
Sennet had mentioned some sort of warning, but Ceidrin had not been in the right frame of mind to comprehend what sort of warning she had received.
"Forgive me if my memory does not produce your name," Ceidrin said with as much gallantry as he could muster. "You know me, but do I know you?"
The girl hesitated. "My name is Dierin," she said. "I--"
He recognized her name, at least. "You are related to Lucien's side of the family."
"I am a servant in Oriellen's household," Dierin said softly. "Or I was. I will not be returning."
"Sennet is not here," Ceidrin said. "But if you swear to me that you intend no harm, I'll let you in to wait for her to return."
But Dierin was already backing away. "I'll come back later," she said. "But you may tell her I was here."
"Honestly, it wouldn't be any trouble," Ceidrin said. "There's hot water for tea on the stove, and I'm sure we could find you something to eat if you're hungry."
She hesitated.
"And if you plan to throw in your lot with us, you'd be safer here."
"And if I don't?" Dierin asked. "What if I want to be done with all of this?" She shook her head, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "They've resorted to kidnapping humans now, to get back at someone, I imagine--"
"Yes," Ceidrin said, and wondered if she spoke of Gene. "They kidnapped my human."
Dierin's hands flew to cover her lips. "Yours? But--they did not tell me whose he was. Oh, I'm sorry, Ceidrin; I can go back. I'll find him for you."
"He is already here," Ceidrin said. "And if I discover that you had anything to do with the torture he endured--"
"She gave me food and water," Gene said from the other side of the room. When Ceidrin glanced back at him, he smiled and shrugged. "I woke up and heard you talking--" He took a step away from the wall and swayed. "I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't be out of bed," Ceidrin said with a desperate glance at Dierin. "Come in. You can wait for Sennet here--"
"If I stay in bed, I'll just lie there and remember what they did to me," he whispered, and almost fell into Ceidrin's arms.
"What can I do to help you?" Ceidrin whispered in his ear.
Gene closed his eyes. "I need to be normal for a little while. Do you suppose Sennet would mind if I borrowed her kitchen?"
Ceidrin laughed. "I doubt very much she would care."
"Then I shall make you breakfast," Gene said, and smiled a genuine--if fragile--smile.
"If that makes you normal, then so be it," Ceidrin said. "I'll help."
Gene actually laughed at that, since he knew Ceidrin couldn't cook to save his life, but his laughter died when Dierin stepped through the door and closed it behind her.
"Perhaps I shouldn't stay," she whispered, obviously uncomfortable.
"Oh, no," Ceidrin said, deliberately misunderstanding her words. "There will be plenty for everyone, you included. Gene is rather incapable of cooking for two."
"But I--" She fell silent, then, as Ceidrin held out his hand to lead her to the kitchen.
"It's true," Gene said, some of his old laughter back in his voice. "It's a failing of mine, in truth."
As soon as Gene stepped into Sennet's kitchen, some bit of tension leaked out if his bearing. He stood for a moment, holding onto the countertop, then sighed. "There's a recipe I've been wanting to try--"
"Tell me what you need and I'll get it for you," Ceidrin said. He glanced at Dierin, who hovered in the doorway. "Sit down. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"I feel like I'm imposing," Dierin whispered, and Ceidrin thought he saw tears in her eyes.
"You aren't." Ceidrin said, but in truth, she was. Gene's point of anchor was the kitchen. Whenever they argued, he cooked, sometimes fantastical creations that Ceidrin had always managed to eat. He should have warned Sennet that Gene would need to cook. Ceidrin could only hope that Sennet's pantry would survive the onslaught. He smiled at Dierin. "Do you cook?"
"I can help," Dierin said. "I used to have a garden--"
"She can chop the vegetables, to spare your fingers," Gene said. "You can make pancakes. No one can mess up pancakes."
Ceidrin wasn't sure if he trusted Dierin with a knife, but he didn't want to shatter Gene's newfound calmness with a reminder of his captivity.
"I burn pancakes," he said, "but I'm willing to try."
Gene turned around. "Don't burn them this time," he said, almost begging.
Ceidrin glanced at Dierin, who was watching all of this with a stricken look on her face. He took a deep breath. If that was all Gene needed, then surely he could manage not to burn something once. It could be a fluke that would never happen again.
"I'll do my best," he said, which was as close to a promise as he could get.
Gene nodded. "Then I'll need flour, and eggs, and oil, and water--some green peppers, too. And mushrooms. Garlic, onions--a good knife--" He hesitated. "Sennet will be back soon. And she's bringing someone with her. Two someones. And a dog."
Ceidrin's heart leaped. Who had she found? "Then we'd best prepare," he said. "Dierin, are you okay with chopping the vegetables?"
"I'm fine," she said, clearly mystified by this turn of events. "How did...how do you know?"
Gene took a moment to reply. "The same way I knew Ceidrin would rescue me," he said softly, and opened the nearest drawer. He emerged with two knives in his hand, one of which he gave to Dierin, the other which he kept. "Eggs first, I think."
"Let's make breakfast," Ceidrin said, and opened Sennet's fridge.
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* * *
Chapter Nineteen
Elinor's only interaction with the network of Healers was from the stories everyone seemed to know about them. How they were neutral; completely neutral, and ageless,
both women and men who could heal any manner of terrible wounds. They had become sort of mythological creatures in her mind, so to meet Sennet, who exuded normalcy, seemed somewhat anti-climactic.
And according to Sennet, anyone with a healing talent could be a Healer. There was no test; no apprenticeship per se; she could work with a more experienced Healer at first, but there was a shortage of Healers nowadays, and they needed all the help they could get.
This also made her fairly impervious to assassinations, since no one would dare harm a Healer for fear of having Healer support completely withdrawn forever.
That was not a failsafe, of course; Healers had been killed in the line of duty before. But it would help.
And Healers could not rule, so that would eliminate her name from the competition as well.
But all of that paled in comparison to the fact that Edward was Nidrea's son. He had seemed so--lost, almost, but that wasn't the word she wanted, really. He had spent the vast majority of his life cursed, and in a couple of days, he wouldn't be able to talk to anyone--except, perhaps, Rose, and he certainly could not rule a kingdom.
Not that he wanted to; he'd been quite adamant about that.
They appeared in Sennet's living room, a comfortably attired room that instantly pulled the tension from Elinor's bearing and put it somewhere else. Even Edward relaxed; his eyes were wide open, his lips curved up into a small smile.
"Not so bad, is it?" Sennet asked.
He hesitated, then shook his head. "No. Not so bad."
Elinor heard sounds coming from the direction of what had to be the kitchen; both voices and the clattering of pots and pans. Someone cursed--an elvish curse, but the crisis must not have been too terrible, because all she smelled was cooking food.
"It looks like we have a guest," Sennet murmured. "Would you mind waiting here for a minute? I'll be right back." She vanished through the doorway before they could reply.
"This isn't so bad, is it?" Elinor asked, sitting down in the nearest chair.
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