“Does it make a difference?” Isa’s voice was as cold as Ever’s. “You know that those children were sired by someone in the Fortier line, and we both know who that was!”
“Don’t go there,” Ever growled, but Isa ignored him.
“Those children are your blood! Your sister and brother! They deserve love from you before they deserve it from anyone else!”
“You think I don’t know that?” Ever took a step closer, his voice dark. “You think I haven’t considered that in all the weeks they’ve spent with us? Every time I look at that boy, I see myself! But they are also Fae, Isa.” He stopped and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was resigned as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I cannot afford to consider the fates of only a few. Once we are gone, Destin will lie in the hands of the crown prince. I can see that there is Fortier blood within them, but I do not know how strong the Fae blood runs, either. I cannot be blind to what they are, whether I want to see it or not. I cannot be blind to the truth of their origins. You, of all people, should understand that.”
He turned, and began to walk away, but Isa followed him, ignoring the jabbing weight of his words. “You are so blind that love could hit you on the nose, and you’d never be the wiser!” She turned and stomped back to her sleeping roll as tears blurred her vision. Unfortunately, though, as soon as her head was quiet enough to think, she was struck with the truth of his claims that she had suppressed during their argument. What he had said about the children had verity. But her argument did as well. The children were Fortier and Fae, and though Isa could see the truth in their need, she could not see the future. If their natures were eventually to war within them, she could not confidently say which side would win.
For the first time since she had realized her power, the truths within Isa seemed to collide, and she could make no sense of them. Every time she shut her eyes, the world began to spin.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Something Familiar
The next morning, Ever’s mouth was still set in a tight line, and Isa was feeling no less frustrated. But as much as she wished to continue their argument, doing so now would only be detrimental to their mission. They had come to gather knowledge about a possible enemy and nothing else. Ever then planned to return immediately and consult with Acelet and Garin before making any far-reaching decisions.
Thankfully, it was cool enough for everyone to wear their cloaks without seeming out of place. Before entering the village, Isa and Ever donned their hoods. People from the smaller outlying villages generally stayed put, rarely visiting Soudain or the Fortress. This gave Ever and Isa the advantage of more anonymity, but it was still best to take precautions. Being recognized would jeopardize their entire mission.
Before leaving the Fortress, Isa had asked Ever if he couldn’t use his power to disguise their faces.
“I’ve heard there are some with the ability to make things appear as they are not, and I do not mean the way the Fae do it,” he’d said, “but that particular gift is not in my skill set.”
So now, as they made their way to the little village of Samsin that bordered the woods, Isa did her best to push all thoughts of the argument out of her head and to focus on blending in. That would be more difficult, however, as long as they were riding their horses. In most of the outlying villages few individuals could afford to keep a horse. As their little party made its way through Samsin, Isa realized theirs were the only horses in sight. And it made her more than uncomfortable.
Ever, however, looked completely unruffled, as usual. The only sign Isa could find of his restlessness was in the way the blue flames in his eyes continued to jump and turn in short, agitated bursts
The mysterious woman would not be healing until that afternoon, according to his men, but Ever had announced that morning that he wished to hide the horses before most of the people were milling about to see them. Without the royal crest on the soldiers’ breastplates or Ever’s ceremonial armor, they would be given only as much respect as their weapons could buy them. Isa had even removed her blue crystal queen’s ring for the event, something she had only done a handful of times since Ever had placed it on her finger.
The ride to the church seemed to take much longer than it should have for such a small town, but the streets were hardly straight, and they began to fill more quickly than Isa had expected. Rickety carts and stubborn mules moved at painfully slow places, and many children seemed to prefer watching the goings-on from the middle of the street rather than the side. The roads here were naught but mud and the houses were hovels pieced together with sticks, mud, and straw.
The early risers who were out now in the pearlescent pink light carried axes, baskets, flax, and bundles of firewood. They watched the company of seven ride past with open resentment in their eyes. Isa shivered. By the time they finally reached the church, even Ever was flexing his jaw regularly, making his face seem even more angular and immovable than usual.
Degare, the eldest of their guards, dismounted and went to knock on the church door. As he waited for the holy man’s answer, Isa studied the church itself. It seemed to be the only building in the town that was made of stone, rather than mud and sticks, and the entire building could have fit within her own personal chambers at home. Three small square windows were carved into the church’s right side. They did not have real glass panes, as most buildings in Soudain had, but instead, were covered with thick animal skins, stretched at an angle to keep the rain out.
Finally, the door was opened and the priest appeared. He must have been at least fifty years of age, probably more, his head completely devoid of hair. Bags hugged his eyes. His round face, however, wasn’t unpleasant as he spoke to Degare. Isa couldn’t hear what was being said, but Degare scratched his red beard thoughtfully as he considered whatever it was that the priest had said. Eventually, he glanced up at Ever, then Isa, before turning back to the priest and nodding once.
“We’ll go around the back,” Degare said as he rejoined them, taking his horse’s reins and leading them toward the left side of the church, between the building and the edge of the wood. “He says it would have been best if we’d come sooner before anyone was awake, but he will do his best to keep the horses safe for us until nightfall.”
As they rounded the corner, Isa felt very doubtful that the horses would be well hidden at all. A little covering stood upon four poles that stuck out of the ground, its roof made of the same straw thatch that covered most of the cottages around them. All she could do was thank the Maker that the church was at the edge of town. Perhaps there would not be so many people passing by who might see the seven great horses resting beneath the small shelter. If their horses were stolen, king and queen or not, it would be a very long walk to the next place they could purchase replacements.
The priest appeared at the church’s back door and quickly motioned for them to follow him inside. Isa wondered at the urgency in his face, for Degare had been instructed not to mention their true identities to anyone. Did this priest guess at their purpose in being there? Or was he simply concerned for the group that was very obviously not from anywhere nearby?
They entered the church quickly in single file, as the door was too narrow for anything else. The small chamber they found themselves in was apparently not part of the church’s main chamber, the one with the leather covered windows. Instead, it was a windowless room with a small fireplace and just enough room for a few pieces of rough furniture. A small cot was pushed into a corner, and a little wooden box beside it had clothing spilling out. Was this hovel where the man of the Maker lived?
“Your Highnesses!” the holy man quickly closed the door and turned around, the light from the flames dancing across his face. “It is not safe for you here!”
Isa didn’t miss the rebuking look that Ever sent to Degare, but the priest only shook his head. “I’ve been to the capital. I know who you are. Now, pray tell, why are Your Highnesses here? I told your spies only last week that t
his region is full of traitorous whispers and schemes!”
“And for that, we are indebted to you,” Isa said quickly, hoping to soothe the man’s anxiety.
“We have come to see this woman for ourselves,” Ever said, his face dark even in the light of the hearty fire. “She is dabbling in a magic blacker than I have seen before.”
“Oh, she does more than dabble!” The priest squeezed through the group to lift a stack of parchments from a crooked little table in the corner. They were covered with ink scribbles, though Isa couldn’t make out the words from where she stood. The holy man handed one to Ever, who squinted at the paper as he tried to read it. “I have lived in this region since I was accepted to the church, and I have been making notes of the goings-on in these woods since I began.” He looked at Isa, his round face scrunched into a troubled frown. “Dark arts are not so uncommon here, more common than you would even know, Your Highness, if I may say so.” He nodded at Ever. “But in the last nine years, I have begun to see an inexplicable rise in the evil that sometimes pervades these woods. At first, the disturbances were only small, as if someone was testing himself, learning the tricks of wickedness and practicing them as one might practice smithing or sewing.”
“Why was I not notified?” Ever frowned as he reached for another paper. “Father...”
“Oh, Lucien, Your Highness. And please forgive my boldness, but though it is a good deed done when you expel this or that bit of darkness as you always do, there are a dozen more for every one that is cast out. You would never have time to do anything else if you chased after every single one.” The man looked at Isa desperately, as if hoping she would understand better than her husband. “But it stopped, you see, about five years ago. Then it began again last year.”
He turned back to the table and pulled out a map that Isa guessed he had made himself. The drawings seemed to depict the region Samsin was in, encompassing the town as well as the southern woods to the east, direct south, and west of the church. The details were more intricate than any map of the southern forests Isa had ever seen at the Fortress.
“Last year, children began to disappear from our village, as well as the three or four nearest by,” the priest said, pointing as he spoke. “Then they would be returned only a few days later. It frightened the parents at first, especially when the children returned speaking nonsense about mystical places and houses made of sweets. But when the children were always returned no worse for the wear, people eventually stopped worrying.” The priest glanced up at Isa. “Again, my apologies, Your Majesty, but the people around here haven’t much trust for the crown. I urged them to go to you, but they wanted to fend for themselves.”
“That’s why no children were reported missing from the southernmost villages,” one of the guards murmured.
The priest nodded. “It happened enough that the people had begun to talk of spirits in the forest who took the children to drink of their youth before sending them home again. Utter rubbish, of course.” The holy man shook his head. “But that there was an evil at work, I had no doubt. Still, that was nothing compared to the sicknesses and injuries that began to shake the people a few months ago.”
“Sicknesses?” Isa asked.
“Yes, my queen. People began to experience all sorts of strange maladies, but no matter how many healers saw them, they could not be healed. I, myself, went to pray for them often. Soon they began to despair, though, and began to bring in the dabblers of the Sorthileige to attempt their charms and incantations.” The priest shuddered so hard his faded blue robe shook. “Of course, that in itself brewed a new pot of problems, but to say the least, nothing worked.”
“Tell me,” Ever said, his voice suddenly lifting the way it always did when he was excited. “No one died from these ailments, did they?”
There was a long pause. “No, Your Highness,” the priest said slowly. “They are all still alive. They were even cured... all of them, about two months ago.”
“What do you know of this woman?” Isa asked, suddenly fighting the urge to track down the woman herself then and there.
“Little,” the priest said. “I went to see her for myself when she first appeared last week, and when she emerged from her tree, I knew immediately that darkness came from within her. I confronted her, but she mocked me in front of the people, and I was nearly driven out of the town.”
Isa closed her eyes briefly and pressed her hand to her belly. The ache caused by the curse had left long ago. Still, her middle still hurt from time to time, and her womanly cycle had never returned. Whatever force it was that had stolen her chance at natural motherhood could not be allowed to continue roaming like this. She wouldn’t allow it. Though she had never killed another human with her own hands, nor had she any desire to do so, Isa felt a sudden fire flame within her. She would do whatever she must to remove this monster from the people.
The priest’s sigh broke through her thoughts. “I know this village is not much to look at. Its people are rough, and they often lack in decorum.” He lifted his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “But I love them. They are not all as you have seen. Many are simply trying to survive.”
“We are indebted to you,” Ever’s voice rumbled as he finally looked up from the stack of papers, which he had been reading. “You have done the Fortress and the kingdom a great service.” The priest began to utter protests, but Ever held up a gloved hand. “When we are done with this debacle, I will return, and you will accompany me to the Fortress. We will see what we can do to help your village and others like it.”
“I would love nothing more, Your Highness,” the priest’s shrill voice quivered as he spoke. “But first, you must survive the day.” He ran to the hearth and stooped at its edge, gathering ashes in his hands. “You are far too clean to look like you belong here.” With that, he ran between each of his guests and began to smear the ashes upon their hair and faces. Isa didn’t particularly relish the idea of being covered in ashes until they reached the Fortress again, but she didn’t argue as he dirtied her face.
“Now,” he brushed his hands off over the hearth and placed his fists on his hips, “after you finish watching her this afternoon, I would like for you all to return here. It is the safest place you will find in this town.” He gave a sardonic chuckle. “It is also the only place you will find to stay. Since word spread of the woman’s healing, families have been flocking here from all over with their sick children. She emerges from her cursed tomb of a tree and heals at the third hour every day, but for one hour only. Then she returns, and everyone waits until the next afternoon.”
The way he ordered the royal party around made Isa smile. Few men or women were bold enough to tell the king and queen what to do. But Isa liked it. This man truly cared for their welfare and for the welfare of his little village. She would like to know him better if she ever got the time.
They spent the remainder of the morning and the early afternoon in the priest’s cramped quarters. Isa found his stories and knowledge to be fascinating, and she discovered that he had been born in a part of Soudain not far from where her parents lived. Soon, however, the priest reluctantly told them that if they wished to get close enough to the woman to see her, they would need to leave and find a place in the crowd, despite it being only the first hour of the afternoon.
As they donned their hoods to leave, Isa was reminded of a comment Henri had made once about going to the church in his little village.
“Father,” she turned back to the little man. “When we came to these woods and found the children in the Fae land, there were two without a home to return to. The boy, Henri, is nine years of age, and he once lived nearby in the forest, I believe. He has mentioned several times that he used to come to the church and talk with the priest.” She was suddenly praying that this man might be able to shed light on Henri and Genny’s shadowy past. “He has a little sister named Genevieve.”
A sad smile came to the priest’s face. “Ah, yes. Young Henri and Genny.”
> Ever gave her a look of impatience as he ducked out the door, but Isa tarried just a moment longer. She needed to hear what this man had to say about her peculiar little charges.
“Henri is a special boy. He sees things differently from other children. He also has unusual... talents.” The priest frowned slightly before giving her a more reassuring smile. “But I never found a child so desperate to belong. I am glad to know they have found a safe place where they can finally rest.”
“Take these.” Isa pressed two gold coins into his hand. “Buy glass panes for the church. No one should have to pray in the cold.” She gripped his hand briefly, squeezing the coins so the man couldn’t return them.
Then, as she followed her husband and their men, she tried to steel herself for whatever revelations lay ahead. As they found the crowd and began to move toward the center, the guards began to separate, each one taking a particular position in the crowd where he would all have a different vantage point to watch and listen.
While Isa now partook in most of Ever’s defense schemes and even made some of her own, military strategy was one area that held little appeal for her. So she simply allowed her husband to do as he wished, and she did as she was told. For this plan, she was to stand near Ever with her hood drawn, an arrow knocked and held low where the people pressing in around them wouldn’t see it. Ever and the guards had more close range weapons at hand, swords and knives ready and waiting. Isa prayed they wouldn’t have to use them in a crowd so dense and so full of sick children. Families were already beginning to shove to the front.
Just as Isa was about to whisper to Ever that the number of people present had far surpassed her expectations, the crowd roared. Isa was tall, but even she had to stand on her toes and crane her neck to see what the cheers were about. She could only just make out a large tree near the edge of the clearing that was beginning to shimmer. Isa was reminded of her time in the strange world of the Fae, and the way the surroundings constantly changed. And though she had somewhat expected it, the woman that Isa had known as Sacha stepped forward and smiled sweetly at the people, holding out her arms and dropping a little curtsy.
Beauty Beheld: A Retelling of Hansel and Gretel (The Becoming Beauty Trilogy Book 3) Page 12