“There’s a pulse,” the man called Jon sighed in relief. “She’s alive.”
I don’t know why, but I wanted to tell him to let me die. If I couldn’t heal myself from the red monk’s poison, he wouldn’t be able to help me anyway.
“Even if you take her, she’ll never make it back in time. She’s too far gone.”
“Yeah, she looks like a corpse. Leave her.”
“Shut up! The both of you,” growled the dominant voice. “Or so help me God, I’ll kill the both of you!”
Something hard and strong wrapped around me, and the next thing I knew I was floating. I remembered having dreams where I could fly, and my feet didn’t touch the ground. This was similar. The musky smell of a man’s perspiration filled my nose. I didn’t remember ever being able to smell in any dream. Maybe I wasn’t dreaming. I was warm and so sleepy. The man’s fingers were hard with calluses and fearsomely strong. A wave of nausea hit me, and once again I went tumbling down into the darkness.
I woke to the sounds of angry voices again. I was still floating. When I felt the searing pain of my skin rubbing against the man’s shirt, I knew I wasn’t dreaming. I trembled violently as a wave of cold fever rushed through my limbs, and I burned with cold.
I felt the man’s arms squeeze me in response to my trembling. As my head lolled back, my eyes snapped open. Blurred shapes passed me by, tall shadowed figures, as giant as the mountains. Trees, I figured. But as my eyes adjusted, the trees appeared to have faces, gruesome faces with large, bulbous eyes and fangs. How can trees have faces? I felt like I’d seen these trees with faces before, but where? I felt a jerk, and my head fell forward.
The shapes were moving faster now. My lids were like iron, and I couldn’t keep them open. It didn’t matter. Nothing I saw made any sense. I was confusing my dream with reality, or I was going insane? Maybe a little bit of both.
“That’s as far as we’ll go,” I heard a voice say. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
There was a rush of wind on my face, and I was moving faster now. I was moving in a constant up and down motion, and for a second I thought that I was riding Torak again. I thought I heard a loud neighing, but that was impossible. All the horses had left.
I felt a sudden rush of sick, and I vomited all over myself. I didn’t have the strength to lift up my head, so I let it loll to the side. Just the smell of the putrid, black liquid almost made me sick all over again. I was thankful when I drifted back into unconsciousness.
I knew I wasn’t dead when I woke with a giant pulsing migraine that throbbed through my bones. I couldn’t remember any dreams, only a cold, dark, and endless sleep that pulled me down so deep that I felt as though I would never wake.
Something warm washed over me and soothed my headache. I pried my eyes open through my thickly crusted eyelids and blinked in the bright light. I was in a bedroom. I lay in a soft, comfortable bed with white linen sheets and a thick quilt. The walls were paneled with pine and gave off a glorious smell of woodland. I could also smell a faint scent of lavender. When I realized that I was the source of the smell I stiffened.
Someone had bathed me. Where was I, and how did I get here?
I heard something sniff, and without turning my head or moving I rolled my eyes towards the sound.
Mad Jack sat in a wooden chair. His cheeks were wet with tears, and his eyes were rimmed with redness. He was alive. I hadn’t realized how relieved I would be to see him and how much he meant to me until that very moment. I almost started crying myself at the sight of his pain. I felt flushed and rolled away. I felt I was intruding on a private movement. I knew he wouldn’t want me to see him cry.
But why was he crying? And what was he doing here? What was I doing here? Where the hell was I?
I waited for a moment, and when I figured I’d given him enough time I made a sudden moan and moved a little.
Mad Jack jumped to his feet, and I heard the crash of a chair hitting the floor. I felt a sudden weight on the mattress as he sat next to me.
“Elena?”
I opened my eyes again, more easily this time, and stared up at him.
His dark eyes were rimmed with red, but his tears had disappeared. He moved to take my hand but withdrew at the last second, as though he thought better of it.
“What happened?” My voice was dry. “How did I get here? Where are we?”
I realized that I was naked except for a thin white shift. I flushed at the thought of someone scrubbing the grime from my body.
He let out a shaky breath, and his smile sent a thrill through me. His clothes looked freshly washed, and he had shaved. His golden skin seemed to glow in the light, and standing there he looked even more beautiful than I’d remembered.
“We’re in Gray Havens.”
I pulled myself to a sitting position.
“What? The witches’ village? Are you mad?”
I looked around the room expecting to see human skulls, sacrificial objects, toads, and a large boiling cauldron with children inside. But the room was spotless with a single white painted dresser and a vase full of fresh blue and yellow irises, daffodils, and purple coneflowers. It looked more like a noble’s cottage than a witch’s hut. But then again, I’d never seen where the witches lived or been inside one of their homes.
“But why would you bring me here? Whatever gave you that idea?”
Mad Jack’s smile sent my heart racing again. I could see he was still struggling with whether or not to take my hand. He didn’t.
“Because,” he said, his voice low, “you have magic. So, I figured that you must be a witch, too. And who better to help cure a witch than witches.”
I was surprised. “But you hate witches?”
His cheeks flushed a deep red, and I didn’t understand why. He shifted uncomfortably, and he wouldn’t look me in the eyes.
“I saw how you looked at me when I had taken the stone. I saw something dark in your eyes. I saw it. And still you brought me here?”
“Jon did the right thing by bringing you here,” said a woman’s voice.
I peered over Mad Jack’s shoulder. A stout woman with a serious face and kind eyes stood at the bedroom doorway. She wore a shapeless dress of simple green linen. Her face was lined with age, and yet it was still beautiful. Her skin was like porcelain, fair, but not fragile, and her dark eyes stood out against her fair skin. Her white hair was piled neatly in a bun on the top of her head. She leaned carefully on a wooden staff that was carved with faces of different animals. A long chain hung from her neck with a pendant in the shape of a star within a circle.
I was staring at a witch, a real witch, and she looked like a normal elderly woman. She was not green and covered with warts and leathery skin, and her teeth were not filed down into pointy needles. She looked like a regular person.
Surprisingly I wasn’t afraid, or even embarrassed that they had bathed me. Instead I felt a calmness, and for the first time in my life I felt safe.
“I’m Ada,” said the old witch. Her deep green eyes looked as if they were filled with wisdom.
“I’m the high witch in Gray Havens, and you are most welcome here, Elena.”
“Thank you, Ada. And I’m guessing I should thank you, too, for saving my life.”
Ada shook her head.
“Jon saved your life. You would have died if he hadn’t brought you here when he did.”
I stared at the strange woman. There was that name again. I didn’t know anyone named Jon, and yet I remembered someone named Jon in my dream.
“I thought Mad Jack brought me here? Who’s Jon?”
“I am,” said Mad Jack.
There was a hint of sadness in his voice that nearly brought me to tears. My cheeks flushed, and I released a tense breath. I looked at him, really looked at him, and it was as though I saw his face for the very first time. How selfish I’d been never to have asked this man’s name. This beautiful creature had saved my life when everyone else had left me to die.
/> When even the regal Prince Landon chose to let me die, the street lord chose to save me.
“Jon,” I said, feeling his real name on my lips for the first time, testing it.
“Thank you for saving my life, Jon. I’m…I’m sorry I never bothered to ask your name, your real name. I was so horrible to you,” I whispered.
My voice shook, “I can’t believe the things I said.”
At the mention of his real name, he flashed me the most dazzling smile I’d ever seen, more beautiful than all the precious stones in the high priests’ vault.
Jon looked at the high witch at the foot of my bed and then back to me. I saw that he struggled with something internally, almost as if he’d have preferred to have kept this conversation private.
He brushed away my tears, and I stayed as still as I could. His fingers were warm and gentle. And then he took my hand, squeezed it gently as he brought it to his lips, and kissed my fingers.
My heart pumped in my ears, and I felt my face burn. Mad Jack, or rather Jon, had never ever kissed me, not even on the cheek, and all kinds of emotions welled inside me at the same time. This wasn’t a flirty kiss or a sensual one, it was a kiss that signified unconditional love, kindness, and forgiveness.
I’d been such a fool.
I wanted to reach out and grab his face and kiss him until I ran out of breath. But we were not alone, and although I was only too aware of the woman’s watchful stare, I sensed that she wanted us to share this moment together.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, finally, “it’s not like I told you my real name either. I couldn’t … well not at first. I was born Jonathan Worchester. Mad Jack is just a cover I use in the Pit. I was known as Mad Jack, and I just went along with it for so long that I became him and sort of lost myself in the process.”
“Cover for what exactly?” I felt the old woman’s eyes on me as I waited for his answer.
Jon straightened. “The rebellion.”
I didn’t care to hide my surprise. “There’s a rebellion?”
“Yes. And it’s been in planning for years.”
“I’m head of the Pit division. We needed to infiltrate the empire and where better than from the Pit. It was the perfect location to get the information we needed. We were close enough to Soul City to study them and to make plans to overthrow their empire. Where our forefathers failed, we believe we can win.”
“The stone complicates things,” he continued. “But I’m still hopeful we can overthrow them.”
The strength in his face was achingly beautiful.
“So that’s how you knew Prince Landon and the other nobles,” I said, putting the pieces together. “This is part of what you couldn’t tell me before.”
“That’s right. We’ve been secretly meeting for years, carefully planning our coup.”
Jon sighed, and I was tempted to reach up and touch his face but didn’t.
The thought of being part of a rebellion sent a jolt of excitement through me.
“I want to join.” I straightened up. “I want to join the rebellion. I could be useful. My skills and abilities could be a real asset for you. I want to join.” I repeated with more conviction.
Jon flashed his perfect teeth. “Usually there’s a trial period and a thorough investigation of anyone who wants to join. You know, we can’t be too careful. But I’d say you’ve proven yourself worthy. In your own way, you’ve always been part of the rebellion.”
I was grinning from ear to ear. “Thank—”
Suddenly there was a bustle outside the bedroom door, and three teenaged girls rushed into the room. They all wore the same shapeless white linen dresses as the older woman, but theirs were plain and without embellishment. The tallest one had skin the color of coffee and sparkling hazelnut eyes. The other two had fairer skin — one had dark hair piled high her head, while the other had a long light blonde braid that brushed the middle of her back. They stood together like they had been joined at the waist.
Their eyes widened at the sight of me, but they blushed deeply when they looked at Jon. I didn’t blame them; he was very handsome. The blonde caught my eye and I winked at her. She giggled nervously.
Ada looked slightly annoyed at the girls. Her grip tightened on her staff.
“What is it, girls?”
The three girls straightened, and the tall girl took a step forward.
“We’ve finished washing and mending her clothes, high witch,” she said. Her voice was soft, but I could tell she was the bravest of the bunch.
The high witch hit her staff on the dressing table, and I flinched.
“Put them here, Sasha,” she ordered. Her voice was stern, and even though she was small I knew she was someone you never crossed.
The three girls stared at Jon self-consciously, like they’d never seen a man before, particularly a beautiful one. But when I moved my gaze over to him, I could see that he was oblivious to the girls’ gawking stares because he was staring at me.
The high witch hit her staff on the floor.
“Get back to your duties, girls. Off you go, and no mooning around in the corridors.”
As Sasha put my clothes on the dresser, our eyes met and a smile played on her face. But it quickly disappeared when she whirled around, grabbed the two other girls by the hands, and rushed out the room, giggling furiously.
I peered out the window in my room. Judging by the position of the sun, it was about midday. My smile faltered a little.
“How long have I been out?”
“Eight days.”
“What? That long? But I thought it was only yesterday that I …”
I remembered coming in and out of a heavy darkness, but it felt only like yesterday when I fought off the monk. What had happened?
“We only just arrived here in Gray Havens last night,” said Jon. “I thought…I thought I’d lost you. You were cold and gray, really sickly looking.”
He paused, and his eyes were full of pain. “Elena, you looked dead. The high witch saved you.”
“No, Jon,” said Ada kindly, “It was you who saved her. Your quick thinking brought Elena to us. She would never have made it if it weren’t for you.”
My eyes stung, and I felt ill. I recalled the horrid, putrid smell of my black vomit, and I swallowed the bile in my throat.
“You were very, very sick, but also very lucky,” continued the old woman. She raised her brows high on her forehead, and she immediately reminded me of Rose.
My gaze shifted to Jon.
“I thought you were dead too, you know. I thought I’d lost you outside the temple. What happened to you?”
Jon scratched the back of his head. “Princess Isabelle happened, that’s what. She and her guard attacked us from behind, and I blacked out. The next thing I remember was that I woke up at the bottom of the stone stairs with a giant bump on the back of my head. Will and Leo were both alive beside me, and everyone else was gone. All we saw were bodies.”
“Where are Will and Leo now?”
Jon laughed. “Camped outside the woodland barrier. They wouldn’t take one step into Gray Havens.”
He shook his head, smiling. “Stupid bastards.”
I rolled my eyes. “Stupid indeed. But why I am not surprised.”
Will had spit on the witches’ lands, and I wasn’t so sure it would have been a good idea for him to come anyway. Looking at Ada’s stern face, I wasn’t entirely sure she’d have allowed it.
Jon smiled. “Well, they won’t come in. But they have been drinking our hostesses’ fine wine and eating their food, and a lot of it.”
I raised my eyebrows at this. “Typical, of course they would.”
I thought it very generous of the witches to feed such superstitious idiots. As I shook my head, I felt a tug at the base of my neck. I reached up with my other hand and felt a few stitches in the back of my neck.
“I was stitched?” I looked at Ada, but saw nothing on her face.
“We removed most of the po
ison,” said the witch, “but I’m afraid we couldn’t get all of it. You will carry some of it in you for the rest of your life. If you had come to us earlier, we would have gotten it all. But we did get most of it.”
“I have healed wounds far more damaging than this. Why didn’t my healing abilities mend me? Why couldn’t I heal? What kind of poison was it?”
“Not the typical kind, I’m afraid.” A shadow passed over her face, and she seemed to age.
“You couldn’t heal yourself, and your wound will never truly heal. You were poisoned with black magic.”
Jon flashed a nervous look my way, but I kept my eyes on Ada. “And whoever did this to you knew exactly what they were doing. They knew what to use to kill someone like you.”
“It was a red monk,” I blurted. “One of the high priests sent him to kill me. He wore a glove with talons for fingers. He must have poisoned me with it. But how could a monk use black magic? It doesn’t make sense. It goes against everything they believe.”
A glimmer of indignation flashed across Ada’s face, but she didn’t answer.
“Am I a witch?” I asked.
I couldn’t help myself. I’d been dying to ask her the question since the moment I’d laid eyes on her. “Like you and the other girls?”
Ada leaned forward and rested both hands on her staff. “Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?” asked Jon.
I sensed a little unease in his voice. “You told me she has magic.”
“She does have magic,” answered the old woman.
She turned her gaze back to me. “Just a different kind of magic. Magic comes in many forms and has many variations. It’s as ancient as the world and is contained in everything around us. Magic is mysterious. And while there is white magic and black magic, magic itself is neither good nor bad. Magic is magic. The only difference between the good and the bad is in how the bearer uses their power.”
I felt my confidence slip away from me a little bit.
“So what am I, if I’m not a witch?”
Ada’s eyes gleamed with an intensity that almost made me look away, but I didn’t.
“You’re a steel maiden.”
CHAPTER 29
Steel Maiden Page 19
