Broken Girl

by Mary E. Twomey

  “Aye.” Link’s boots were on the edge of the bed so he could balance his chair on two legs without toppling over. “I’ll watch your brother, wee Rose. Go on out and help your people.” He squeezed my fingers. “Keep Bastien with ye, though. And if Mad’s with ye, remember the magic word in case someone triggers him again.”

  “Meara,” I recalled with certainty. “You think Mad’s alright? He’s been a little withdrawn since you three came back. I’ve barely seen him around.”

  Link chuckled, low and deep. “He’s upset tha he attacked ye, for one. And he doesn’t know what to do when ye get angry at him. We weren’t expecting ye to be hurt tha we left. Mad’s not used to caring what a lass thinks.”

  My head jerked to Link in confusion. “You two don’t care what I think.”

  In a move so swift, I didn’t have the forethought to counter it, Link yanked me down so my face was inches from his. “It killed me to go, after ye asked us to stay. Do ye think it’s every day we find somewhere we can rest our heads? Do ye think we trust easily? We’re alive because we don’t trust, don’t rest, don’t stop. Tha we found ye – a soft beauty to watch over us?” He shook his head at my assumptions, that I was just beginning to understand had been all wrong. He tugged me down to sit on his lap, anchoring all four legs of the chair to the ground. His arm wrapped around my hips, my legs sandwiched loosely between his open thighs. “We sobered up Bastien quick as we could so we could come back to ye.”

  I blinked at him, shocked at the sincerity I didn’t realize he was capable of. I wanted to ask what I did that was so special, but instead I kissed his cheek so I could watch him turn bashful. A smile swept over my lips when I saw the nape of his neck and the tips of his ears turn pink. His scars were covered with zipper tattoos that climbed out of his collar, begging my fingers to trace them. “Thank you for coming back. I love you three knuckleheads.”

  Link’s mouth tugged up on one side. “Love ye, too, wee sister.”

  I pulled back, straightening and trying to look dignified. “Hello, I’m clearly the older sibling. I’m way more responsible than you are. You get to be the wee brother, if anything.”

  “I’m older, so I get to be the strapping big brother.” His gaze went back to Draper as he wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin atop my shoulder. “Ye never let me get away with anything, even though I’ve got this handsome mug.” He jerked his thumb to his face.

  “Yes, you’re very pretty. All the loose ladies love Link. Now, be a good boy, sweetie. I’ll be back when it’s all done.”

  “I’ll be a boy, but tha’s the most I can do for ye.” He turned my wrist and pushed his thumb into the heel of my hand, so that my fingers opened up to him. He pressed a kiss to the center of my palm, then smirked up at me like the cutie pie he would never stop being. “My mammy used to do tha before I went to school for the day. Keeps the love with ye all day long.”

  I balled my hand into a fist, my heart swelling at the tenderness Link didn’t often like to wave around. “Then I’ll be sure not to drop it. And that’s probably the most precious thing in the universe. When you do find a real girl worth settling down for, try that adorableness on her. She’ll swoon to the moon for you.” I lifted his larger hand and kissed the well of his palm with a small smile. “In case you run low on love while I’m gone.”

  Link blinked at his hand, and I could see a million flickers of nostalgia and emotion sweeping across his usually foolhardy features. I wondered how long it had been since he’d seen his mother – if she was even still alive. “Aye.” He swallowed hard, and then tried to shake off the tender moment by rubbing the kiss all over his face and scrubbing it under his armpits.

  I grinned at his silliness, and blew him another kiss, which he caught and tucked into his pocket like the cutie pie he was. I pecked Draper’s cheek and left, readying to face the nation.

  19

  Strangers Sucking on my Fingers

  It didn’t take long for Mad’s men to send word through the region to meet in the Town Square for the cure. The people clambered to the platform where I’d been given a chair to sit on (and by chair, I mean a fancy mini throne that made me feel like a tool). Bastien stood on my left, and Mad was at my right, with Montel and a few guys organizing everyone into a line while reminding them to be patient. The Wildmen did their part, playing pleasant songs on their panpipes that relaxed the people and kept them from growing restless while they waited in line for the cure.

  I don’t know why I chose this moment to revert back into an introvert, but I found myself too shy to speak when the whole region had their eyes on me. The wooden bowl was on my lap, so I sat perfectly still, hoping the honey mixture wouldn’t spill.

  Bastien seemed to sense my discomfort, and made the announcement that everyone would get their medicine, and that no one would be turned away from receiving the cure if they were patient. He also announced that the wells were pure again, and safe for drinking, but to dump out any other water in pitchers or tubs or whatever that had been collected before tonight. The ravens gathered around the platform eighty strong, cheeping out Bastien’s message, in case anyone was uncertain that they enforced our rule. I kind of loved them for the sweet songs they sang me.

  When the first person came forward, it was an elderly man and his grandson. They both opened their mouths wide and stuck their tongues out at me after they bowed. I glanced up at Bastien, nervous we’d made it this far, and I would screw it all up in the ninth inning. “Just dip my finger into the honey and touch it to their tongues?”

  Bastien nodded. “Quick as you can. Montel’s got everyone in order for now, but you never know how long it’ll last.”

  Mad glared at the old man. “Is this your kid? Fess up, now.” He motioned to the meek Annabelle, who was sitting on the platform, clinging to his calf. No one had claimed her, but he was determined to get to the bottom of it all today. She seemed perfectly content to sit at his feet, not worried in the least that no one had come to find her all night long. She had a long scar that stretched from her temple all the way down to her chin; it looked like a mark from the crack of a whip or something terrible.

  “No, Madigan the Formidable. I’ve never seen her before.” The old man and the boy dipped their heads to me after I brushed my finger to their bumpy tongues, curing them with a simple touch. It felt like cheating somehow. I thought about all the intricacies our scientists and doctors had to study and manipulate to come up with cures and vaccinations. To just touch an herbed honey to their tongues felt too easy (albeit, totally gross).

  The sun was just starting to rise, highlighting the worry on everyone’s faces as the line slowly moved forward. One by one, we worked our way through the people, with Aimee and Pascal taking everyone’s names and new addresses down, along with their former region and their occupation. That was one of the ideas I came up with on the fly. I didn’t know if a census was super important, but so many new people had immigrated into the region, I guessed it would be a good idea to get a solid count so we knew what we were dealing with.

  The line seemed to stretch on forever, never getting any smaller. To their credit, the people were patient, dealing with fussy babies and the boredom of standing in one place for too long with grace I hadn’t expected.

  I tried to stifle a yawn a few hours into the job, but Bastien noticed. “You’re about ten percent of the way through the line, as far as I can tell. You’re doing great.”

  I’d pulled an all-nighter, minus the few minutes the blood loss had knocked me out. I was starting to feel the exhaustion, and wondered how many days I could be expected to power through.

  When the sun rose overhead, alerting me that it was nearing noon, Montel brought me a roll with some sort of nutty spread on it. I munched on it with one hand, while my other finger kept dipping and swiping, dipping and swiping. I did my best to keep a bland smile on my face, but by the time the afternoon hit, I knew I looked a breath from passing out. “Emil, could you and your friends go
scout out the perimeter? I could use the backup.” The bird who’d been my faithful companion all morning chirped his happiness to comply and rallied his troops. I sighed with relief once they all flew out.

  “You worried about the border?” Bastien inquired as he watched Emil fly away.

  “Not particularly. But if I keep using my magic to listen to the birds, you’re going to have to carry me out of here.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that one bit. My damsel in distress for everyone to see in my arms.”

  I shot him a look to be cool as I dipped my disgusting finger back into the bowl of herbed honey. “We aren’t talking about that here.”

  “Where are we having that discussion? When?”

  I sighed, shifting atop my hard mini-throne. My back was stiff from sitting for so long. “After the drama dies down, and I have twenty whole minutes of peace to rub together so I can actually give it some real thought.”

  Mad was pissed that no one had claimed Annabelle yet. “Do ye know this wee lass? Tell me the truth, now.” He pointed his thick finger in accusation at the couple who was in line next.

  They looked like they might simultaneously pee themselves, so I waved Mad’s frustration off. “It’s fine. We’ll find her parents, Mad. Be patient.”

  “Tha’s easy for ye to say. Ye aren’t the one with a child clinging to your leg.” He glared down at Annabelle. “Are ye still hungry?”

  She gazed up at him, her pale grey-blue eyes shining up as her black hair fell away from her face. “Aye, Papa.” She was clearly of Avalon’s dialect, but she’d picked up on Mad’s brogue, trying to make it her own. It was totally precious, and I had to fight hard not to giggle.

  Madigan’s nostrils flared with barely contained fury that she’d both adopted his language, and that she assumed he’d somehow adopted her. His head whipped to stare at me, as if this was all my fault. “What am I supposed to do with her now? Can’t we send her off? She’ll find her way to her home.”

  I guffawed as I continued to stick my finger in people’s mouths. “Nice try. You can’t send a kid off on their own in a land they’re not familiar with. The province is new to everyone. Even the adults are still trying to find their way around the place.” I craned my head to smile at her. “Annabelle, do you want another roll?”

  She was still warming up to me, and nodded tentatively. I could tell she was ravenous, but was reluctant to relinquish her hold on her new daddy. Mad handed a raisin roll to her from the basket Mercy, Hope and Faith had brought us, but she wouldn’t move her hands from Mad’s leg. Instead she took bites from the bread as he held it. I could see the affection for Mad, but also the fear of being left alone, exposed to the harshness of life as an orphan. I couldn’t understand why her parents hadn’t come looking for her. Judging by the patches on her dress that was probably a size too big on her, and the filthiness of her pin-straight hair, she looked like she had been neglected for a while now.

  Grateful villagers brought us bowls of stew around dinner, but I didn’t take a break to eat mine. I couldn’t very well eat stew one-handed with no table to balance the bowl on. “I don’t want to stop,” I told Aimee when she urged me to eat. “I just want to finish the job.” If I craned my neck, I could see the end of the line. It still stretched about three blocks long, but there was an end to it.

  Aimee tsked me, as if she was the older one, and I was being young and foolish. “You need to eat something more than bread, your grace.”

  “I will. I’ll eat a whole mastodon after I finish up here.”

  Bastien and Mad had already finished their bowls. Mad was sitting on the platform next to my throne now, bored of standing in the same spot all friggin’ day. “Eat, now,” Mad ordered Annabelle, who clung to his arm, disregarding her warm bowl.

  “But I…” I could tell she didn’t want to let go of him, and was scared he’d ditch her at the first opportunity. It was anybody’s guess if she was wrong or not.

  I gave her a tired smile. “Mad won’t leave you. I’ll make sure he stays right here. You can eat, sweetheart.”

  Annabelle gazed up at Mad with watery Bambi eyes that could melt even his hard heart. Her whisper was so earnest, it made me want to throw the gross bowl of spit and honey on the floor and scoop her up in my arms. “Please don’t leave me, Papa.”

  Mad’s expression hardened, and I hoped he would be gracious. It would be a good time for him to start exhibiting a normal emotional range, instead of that of a corpse or a caveman. “Aye. Eat your supper. And don’t look at me like tha. Your Da’s out there somewhere. Probably last in line.” Then he grumbled. “He’d better be.”

  Annabelle had the gift of looking past Madigan’s grumping and seeing the treasure beneath, as I had. She slowly slid her arm from around his and picked up her bowl, shooting him furtive glances every time he shifted an inch. Though Madigan didn’t know all the right words, I watched as he compensated for her fear by sitting perfectly still, so her nerves would be more at ease. It was the equivalent of a hug, and my heart warmed to see him try so hard to be good for her. She wolfed down her bowl, and I could see that though she’d been starving, being abandoned had left a greater vacancy in her than mere hunger ever could.

  A shrill series of squawks startled me, sending a zap of lightning through my tired body. I almost dropped the cure all over the platform. Run! Run! Peludas are coming for us! Princess, run!

  Bastien’s hand was on the hilt of his dagger, though he didn’t understand what they said. The urgent tone was clear, though, and he looked to me for verification. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s a peluda?”

  Bastien’s eyes widened, and Mad stood abruptly. “Where? In our province?”

  I nodded. “They’re coming for us. What are they?”

  Bastien turned around and punched at the gong. The second the reverberation died down, he shouted, “Everyone into your houses! Take your families and go! Peludas are on their way to the village! The rest of you can get the cure later. I want all the soldiers in training to come forward. We’ll need as many swords as we can get.”

  The Wildmen broke their tune of serenity and started playing a lively ditty that made my heart race, increasing my urge to run home.

  My heart pounded as Bastien’s warrior-mode face slid into place. I realized with dread as I took in the fearful expressions on the thousands of villagers, that this was the perfect day to plan an ambush on our soil.

  20

  Porcupines are Hard to Hug

  I stood, holding the wooden salad bowl on my hip. I didn’t know enough about the situation to understand how afraid I should be, so I went with Bastien’s level of urgency. My hand was sticky, so I dipped it in the cup of water I was supposed to be drinking while I waited for orders from him. “Bastien, what’s a peluda?”

  Bastien pinched his nose as he thought. “Not enough time to explain. A giant porcupine who’s deadlier than a trained soldier, and we don’t exactly have a ton of those hanging around.”

  “Can’t I just talk to them? I mean, if it’s an animal, I can help.”

  Bastien shook his head. “Peludas started out as an animal, but they’ve been mutated by Morgan le Fae’s witchery.” He turned to Madigan. “Mad, can you command the men while I run Rosie back to the palace?”

  “Aye. Take the wee one with ye, though.” He pushed Annabelle toward me, but the poor girl clung to Madigan’s arm.

  “No, Papa! I’ll stay with ye.”

  I managed a smile for her. “Mad lives at the palace with me. He needs you to pick out a room to stay in while he takes care of a few things out here. He’s a total slob, too. Maybe we can surprise him by cleaning up his room for him?” It was a total lie. Mad was a ghost in whatever room he stayed in – the only trace he’d been there was that the room would be cleaner, with everything in right angles. Gotta love him.

  She looked up at Mad with a hesitance we just plain didn’t have time for. Bastien knelt down to her level and looked her in the eye. �
��If Mad’s your papa, then that makes me your uncle, since Mad’s in the Brotherhood with me. Come with Uncle Bastien and Aunt Rosie to the palace, okay? Otherwise things are going to get ugly out here for you.”

  Mad nodded without any hint of softening when Annabelle looked up at him for guidance. “Go. I’ll come back for ye when I’m finished.”

  She squeezed his arm one more time as the people all around us fled in every direction. Then she placed her hand in mine.

  “Leave the bowl, Rosie. We don’t have time. They’re likely to start setting the place on fire first.”

  “Huh?” I obeyed, but not before making sure the staff had all been vaccinated from the well pollution. Then I put my finger in the honey once more, and touched it to Bastien’s tongue, then to mine, to Annabelle’s, and finally, to Mad’s. Madigan locked his gaze with mine as his lips closed around my finger to suck on the tip. I could see in him a warning for us to hurry. “Be safe,” I cautioned.

  “Aye. She can’t run, so ye might have to carry her. Her leg’s got a heavy limp if she uses it too much.”

  I nodded and scurried down the steps, noting Annabelle’s slight limp that looked like a handicap she was well used to. Something told me she hadn’t acquired it during the stampede yesterday. “Can I pick you up?”

  Annabelle nodded, though she didn’t look too sure of her answer. I was a total stranger to her, but I think the fact that I had the title of ‘Princess’ before my name gave me a little extra credibility. I hitched her bony body up on my hip, surprised and worried at how light she was.

  Bastien’s arm gravitated to the small of my back as he started us off at a brisk pace. He kept checking over his shoulder, making sure a wildebeest or whatever wasn’t bearing down on us.

  Apparently we should’ve been checking our right, which was where the… I don’t know how to explain it, but skulking toward us with serpentine grace was none other than a… well, a porcupine monster the size of a full-grown bear. The brown beast had foot-long quills jutting out all over its body. I tried to reconcile the beast with the tiny porcupines I’d seen up in Common, grimacing at the janky razor-sharp teeth sticking out of its long, dragon-like face. From the neck down, it was a porcupine, but from the shoulders up, it was a dragon. I bit off a scream and bolted as fast as I could toward the castle that was unrealistically out of reach. Annabelle clung to me, crying in worried gulps as she clawed at my neck.