A knock woke Mia what felt like only seconds after she’d closed her eyes. Groggily she rolled over onto her back. Her face was wet, she must have been crying in her sleep. There was another knock, louder this time, “Yes?” Mia’s voice was scratchy.
“May I come in?”
Was it Breahn or Hanna? Mia hadn’t known either of them long enough to tell the difference. It must be Hanna; Breahn wouldn’t have bothered with a second knock. That much Mia was sure of. “Mhm,” She wiped the moisture from her face, scrunching her nose against the stench of her sleeve.
The door opened, and Hanna’s head popped around the edge. “Am I disturbing ye?”
“Um-” Mia didn’t know what to say. Yes, she was disturbing her. All Mia wanted right now was to be left alone. But her manners kicked in, and she shook her head, “No. Come in.”
Hanna smiled, pushing her way into the room. She didn’t approach the bed. Mia watched Hanna walk towards the empty wash stand, skirts trailing in her wake. She cringed. There was the faint clinking of glass. “Breahn is heating the water for yer bath, I thought I would bring ye some oils and things in the meantime.” Mia had completely forgotten about the bath she was promised that morning, it seemed like so long ago now. The bottles neatly arranged on the washstand, Hanna turned to face her. “You didn’t come to dinner,” she said, folding her hands in the apron that covered her dress, “were ye not hungry?”
Mia’s stomach clenched nauseatingly at the very thought of food. “No,” She was full to the brim with her misery, to add food was an unappealing thought. “I wasn’t hungry.”
Hanna pressed her lips into a thin smile that did nothing to hide the concern written clear as day on her face. It made Mia want to assure the older woman that she was fine, and everything was okay. But she wasn’t, and Mia wasn’t about to lie. “Alright dear. If ye do change yer mind, you will let me know?”
Mia’s lips wobbled upward but didn’t quite manage a smile as she said, “Okay. Thank you.”
Hanna dipped her head. They stared at each other across the room, far longer than Mia felt was necessary or comfortable, and soon she was wishing the other woman would just leave already. Her gaze slid toward the door before Mia realized how rude it might look and quickly refocused on Hanna’s hand now pillowed in the creamy fabric of her skirt. “I suppose the water must be ready, I’ll let Breahn know to bring up the tub-”
Hanna was giving her the chance to refuse the kindness, Mia realized, or maybe she was waiting to see if Mia would offer to help. Her stomach twisted, this time with guilt. What was she doing? This woman was doing her best to show Mia compassion and support, and all Mia could do was sit there feeling sorry for herself. She was disgusting, a pathetic excuse for a human being. Mia’s eyes stung for the millionth time that day. She coughed past the growing lump in her throat, “I can help bring it up.”
“Oh no dear,” Hanna said shaking her head so that her braid swayed, “we can manage.”
“I’d like to help.” Mia swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood. Her sense of propriety would never allow her to sit by and watch as other people worked to make her comfortable. Hanna looked like she might refuse but Mia was already heading for the door.
“This is completely unnecessary,” Hanna said, quick to follow Mia out of the room, “really dear, we do not mind-”
“I want to help.” She didn’t understand, how could she? Hanna could have no idea what was going on in Mia’s head. Even though her legs were stiff as boards and her back ached, even though her hands were red and swollen, blisters raw and dripping, it was nothing compared to the heaviness of her heart. A weight that threatened to drag her right through the floorboards and bury her in the foundations of the house. Mia had to do this, she had to do something to lessen the ache in her chest.
Hanna’s hand wrapped around Mia’s wrist as they reached the landing. Mia stopped, directing a questioning look at the old woman. Hanna smiled in a way that was starting to get annoying. “If ye would help me with the tub, I’d be very grateful.” Mia blinked, a heartbeat later she nodded and let Hanna brush past her, the scent from her clothes lingering in the air. It wasn’t familiar, not even a little bit, but for some reason the smell tugged at Mia’s heart, making the longing for her mother impossible to ignore. She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep the pained sound creeping up her throat from slipping out.
Mia followed Hanna down a narrow hall similar to the one her room branched off of. At the end of this hall, a window blazed with red light, reflecting the sunset from outside. Hanna disappeared through a door on the right. The room was smaller than the one Mia had, but unlike hers, it looked lived in. A small bed took up one corner next to a window, neatly made with a pretty quilt draped over the foot. The wardrobe was a twin to the one in Mia’s room, but someone had used a tool to etch a floral design into the yellow wood doors. A pretty blue bowl sat on top of the washbasin standing against the wall, crowded onto the surface with an assortment of small glass bottles in vivid blue and muddy brown. Mia took this all in during the few seconds it took to reach the wooden tub Hanna had stopped beside.
They didn’t speak as both women bent down to grab hold of the thick lip of the tub. Together they hoisted the rather heavy thing a foot off the floor and started an awkward shuffling gait back to Mia’s room, stopping once at the landing so that Hanna could readjust her grip. They set the tub in the middle of the room. Mia straightened, grimacing at the tight pain centered in the small of her back. She put her hands to the spot, pushing her thumbs into the knot of flesh.
Water sloshed in the hall. Mia and Hanna turned to see Breahn appear in the doorway, a steaming bucket in each hand. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, the muscles in her tan arms corded with the strain. She came in without a word, lowering the buckets to the floor, careful not to spill. Breahn turned to Mia, wiping the sweat beading on her forehead away with an arm. The flyaway hairs around her face were damp and curled from heat.
“By the Seeker, ye stink!” Breahn said, grinning as she took in the stains and bits of straw and debris clinging to Mia’s clothes and hair. “Did ye fall into the dung heap or did ye jump?” On the other side of her, Hanna cleared her throat loud enough for Breahn to look in that direction. Mia didn’t miss the subtle shake of Hanna’s head or the pointed stare. Mia crossed an arm over her chest, gripping her elbow between thumb and middle finger, hard enough to feel the bone. Mucking out the barn stalls was the most exhausting, dirty work Mia had ever done in her life. Naturally, she lacked the coordination, not to mention the strength to do it without making a mess, of herself and the yard. But at least she did it. All seven stalls were cleaned out and padded with fresh straw.
“That’s alright,” Hanna said, a strained smile fixed on her face, “we’ll sort those out for ye while ye bathe. Won’t we, daughter?” Breahn did not seem to register the grit underlining her mother’s words, or maybe it was more accurate to say that she ignored it altogether. She lifted her shoulders, shrugging off the scolding in much the same way Mia had on many occasions. Something she would never do again.
A low, pained sound slipped out of Mia’s mouth and into the room before she could do anything to stop it. “Get out,” she whimpered, painfully aware of the shocked looks on both Hanna and Breahn’s faces.
“I’m sorry?” Hanna sputtered, “Have we done something to upset ye?” Oh God. Mia had never swallowed a razor, but she was pretty sure this was what it felt like. She turned away a second before tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Please just go.” Couldn’t they understand how incredibly painful it was for her to be here? To have to see their relationship, a constant reminder of her loss.
“Uh- But your bath. There’s not enough-”
Mia’s shoulders trembled with the effort not to scream. “It’s fine.”
“Are ye-”
“Ma,” Breahn cut in, silencing her mother with a sharp word.
It was quiet, the only sound
the increasingly heavy breaths Mia took. Every second that passed made it more likely that she would end in a heap on the floor, unable to keep the sobs from tearing her apart. Why did this have to hurt so much? Wasn’t there some way to turn it off? The thought of feeling this way for even one more minute made Mia physically ill. She couldn’t do it, there was no way she was strong enough. She’d die.
Chapter 29
Her legs simply couldn’t support her anymore. Mia wasn’t aware of the change in elevation until she was sitting on the ground, her legs splayed in front of her, her hands flat on the floor. Despair consumed her, dampening even the shouts of concern that sounded from behind her. Everything ached, her muscles, her bones even her skin as her body wrestled with the grief that had her in a chokehold. Hands squeezed her shoulders, a face hovered in her line of vision, wide blue eyes the only point of clarity in an otherwise blurred image. Mia had heard of this, this terrible physical pain that sometimes accompanied loss.
She’d held Jake together when he went through this after his mom died, unable to understand what he felt. How naive of her to think words could help him. It had completely taken him over then like it was doing to her now, shoving her into a box where nothing existed but pain, a place where no one and nothing could reach her.
Nothing could dull this kind of pain.
Nothing.
“But Janet actually died.” Her parents were alive; both of them were alive and safe. “But I’ll never see them or Jake again.” Mia wasn’t sure if maybe this was actually worse than them being dead. For them as much as her. They would never know what happened to her. What if her parents couldn’t get over her disappearance? Would if they get divorced? Would they blame her? What if they blamed Jake? What if they accused him of not keeping his promise? Would they shut him and Steve out of their lives because of it? Could they ever be so cruel? Not the people she knew.
Sarah, warm and a bit kooky, would never do that. Dad, hardworking and kind couldn’t either. But grief did weird things to people; Mia had seen it with Jake’s dad. Steve snapped out of the womanizing but not before it had damaged his relationship with his son. Would Jake blame himself? What if her coming here didn’t just ruin her life but destroyed the lives of everyone important to her?
It was like puking. The sobs surged up from somewhere low in Mia’s stomach, forcing their way out in retching gasps that made a god-awful sound. Mingled with the uncontrollable crying were garbled pleas for deliverance and forgiveness. Arms wrapped around her. Bodies pressed against her. They formed a cocoon around her, holding so tight that Mia feared she might suffocate. What did they think they were going to accomplish? Didn’t they realize? The only thing Mia needed protecting from were her own thoughts. Her body seemed to forget that as well, sagging against their solid warmth, the unbearable tension draining out of her. Maybe this was her body’s way of protecting itself. A sort of survival instinct that Mia couldn’t or didn’t want to fight.
“There,” A voice spoke softly. “I think she’s calmed down.”
“Mmm.”
Mia’s head felt like it was being crushed in a vice. Her nose was so stuffed that she had to breathe through her mouth and for the life of her she couldn’t stop the slow leak of tears from the corners of her eyes. “Let’s get her washed and into bed.”
“She’ll need a shift. She can have one of mine.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Mia croaked, her voice muffled against someone’s shoulder. She swallowed. God, she was so tired.
“We’d like to bathe ye, do ye think that would be alright?” It was Hanna who spoke first, cautious but gentle. Mia felt the arms around her loosen and found she could move again. She met the older woman’s worried blue eyes, eyes that if they’d been a shade darker could have belonged to Sarah Astor.
Mia swallowed again. “I don’t care.” She managed to say, fixing her gaze on a point somewhere above Hanna’s right ear. Breahn got to her feet behind Mia, and she immediately missed the warmth at her back.
“Right then.” The other girl said, wedging her hands under Mia’s arms, not roughly, but not exactly gentle either. Mia clenched her teeth, her body screaming in protest as she was moved. Breahn grunted with the effort of lifting her, “ye really do stink you know.” She muttered when Mia was upright, swaying like a drunk, but vertical.
“Ya well, you can thank Orden for that.”
A breathy laugh tickled Mia’s ear, and she shivered and kept on shaking until her teeth chattered. “That’s enough talk,” Hanna said, her tone brusque and to the point. “We need to get her warm.”
“And clean,” Breahn added, her fingers digging into the tender flesh of Mia’s armpits as she maneuvered her clumsily toward the tub. Mia heard the sloshing of water as first one bucket then the second was emptied into the bath.
Mia had no sense of modesty as the two women stripped her down to her skin and bundled her into the cramped wooden tub as the last of the evening light faded. The water was warm enough to turn her skin bright red within seconds. Sweat beaded on her skin, mingling with her tears and dripped into the water. Breahn lit a few candles before leaving with Mia’s clothes and didn’t come back. It was only Hanna who stayed behind to scrub the filth from her skin because Mia didn’t have the energy. She was exhausted both physically and emotionally, well beyond the point of caring that she was essentially a baby. Hanna, thank goodness, didn’t say a word as she washed Mia from head to toe with a calm and gentle efficiency. By the time she had finished, Mia’s teeth were no longer chattering, and the tears had stopped.
Hanna wrapped her in a sheet and helped her out of the tub with a steadying hand even as water dripped in fat droplets to the floor. Mia’s hair hung wet and heavy against the sheet, plastering the material to her neck and shoulder. “There we are,” Hanna said in a quiet voice, looking up into Mia’s face, “all clean and fresh.” She rubbed the sheet over Mia’s arms briskly and pressed her lips together, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. There were tiny lines around her lips, like small cracks in her skin. “I’d better see about getting ye a shift, can’t have ye sleeping in nothing but your skin. “Do ye mind terribly? I’ll not be long-” She trailed off, noticing Mia’s vacant stare. The wrinkles around Hanna’s mouth intensified with the strained curve of her lips. She made another quick pass over Mia’s arms before she turned and left.
Mia stood in a growing puddle of cooling bathwater and waited as the sound of Hanna’s footsteps receded. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, counting to seven as she pulled the air in through her nose and then let it out in eight long seconds. She did that a couple of times before Hanna came back.
“Here we are,” Hanna said, dropping the garment over Mia’s head. The creamy material unfurled, billowing softly toward the floor. It covered Mia from shoulder to calf, smelling of lavender and pinewood. She shrugged her shoulders, letting the bath sheet fall to the floor, pooling around her ankles. She weaved her arms through the too-long sleeves and folded them around herself. “A tad long in the sleeves but it will do. What do ye think?”
Mia looked down at herself, her gaze lingering on her blue toes poking out from under the hem. The shellac polish was in rough shape after her barefooted trek through the woods, chipped and peeling in some places. “It’s good.” Mia said, lifting her face. “thank you.” Hanna was looking at Mia’s toes, her head tilted to the side. Before she could ask, Mia sidestepped around her and moved toward the bed.
“Wait-”
“What?”
“Your hair- it’s wet...”
Mia stopped in front of the bed, And? “You did just wash it.”
“And ye cannot go to bed with wet hair, you’ll catch cold.
She turned enough to look at Hanna over her shoulder, “This might surprise you, but I don’t really care.”
“Ye’ll forgive me, but I do care.”
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Mia rounded on Hanna, hands jerking at her sides. �
��I’m done. I ca-I can’t-I’ve had, I’ve had enough. I want to be-I want to be left alone!” She was panting, her breath loud in her ears, chest rising and falling rapidly. There was no stinging in her eyes, she had no tears left to shed. “God! Don’t you understand?” Mia looked up at the ceiling, turning her body away in a futile attempt to hide her emotions. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed, “Don’t you get how-how painful this is for me?” Still, the tears didn’t come.
“I am so sorry.” Hanna’s voice was reed thin and wobbled. There was a hesitant touch on Mia’s shoulder. When she didn’t shrink away or shrug it off, Hanna pressed her palm to Mia’s shoulder, letting her fingers curl over the bone. “I am so sorry that you, a child, must walk a path that would break most others.”
Mia couldn’t help the way her body leaned into that single point of contact. It acted as a lifeline, something to keep her tethered to this reality. “But I am broken.” A rush of something moved through Mia, her body accepting the truth of that statement. “I’m broken, and I don’t know if I can ever be fixed again. Not here, not without them,” It was a relief to say it, to be able to say it out loud and know it for the truth. “I’ll never see them again.” Mia whispered.
“My dear,” Hanna’s hand dropped away, and Mia rocked back and then forward, bereft without the support. “Why are ye so certain of that?”
It took Mia a moment to process what Hanna had said, then she went completely still. Mia’s heart stopped and seemed to restart in one second, and then it was literally hammering against her ribs, so hard it might bust out of her chest, fly across the room, grab Hanna by the ears and demand to hear it again. She twisted around, “But Orden said-”
“That man says many things in the heat of anger.”
“Where is he? I need to talk to him. Now! Where can I find him?” Mia was halfway to the door already, a tiny, guttering flame had ignited somewhere inside her, its light fragile and in need of protection She couldn’t help but hope, even if it was crazy and desperate and turned out not to be true. No, she couldn’t think like that. Mia needed to guard that flickering flame, shelter it from any snuffing wind.
Chosen (The Last Guardians Book 1) Page 16
