She says, “You are my prince, my hero. No one else in the world would have done what you’ve done. Not even my family. In fact especially not my family. But you, the one person everyone told me was evil . . . you risked your life to help me.”
She holds me. And I close my eyes. And lying there is good and warm and smells nice and I say to myself that in the morning I’ll tell her about Kieran.
She kisses me on my lips nervously, and a bit clumsily for Annalise. I kiss her back, pulling her body against me, and then she’s crying. And I know she’s crying with relief, at being alive, and I wipe her tears away. And she looks at me, her eyes sparkling. Her cheek is soft under my fingertips and under my lips and I kiss her face and neck and down her throat. And she kisses me too, in the same way, over my face. And we’re clinging together, my head against her chest, listening to her heart beating faster now, and I tell myself that she’s alive because of me and her heart beats because of me and that has to be good, that has to be good.
Digging
I wake up in bed, close to Annalise, so close that I can feel her warmth. I’m not used to sleeping with someone and it feels strange but nice too. She still smells of her but not so clean now, and I want to kiss her. I open my eyes. She’s smiling at me. She looks less pale.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Better. A lot better. And you?”
“I’m good. But hungry, though!”
“As luck would have it Nesbitt just brought us some breakfast. I think he was using it as an excuse to meet me and to find out what we’re doing, but anyway it’s food and I’m starving too.”
“I thought I heard someone.” Normally I’d wake up instantly at the sound of someone’s voice but for once I’ve been in a deep sleep.
We eat the porridge—there’s enough for ten—and there’s jam, honey, and raisins. Annalise eats a large bowlful and lies back, saying she feels good but stinky.
“You’re not stinky.”
“I need a shower, though.” She gets up and walks to the door, saying, “I feel so much stronger. No dizziness.”
I think that’s a hint that Annalise can get to the bathroom safely alone. I lie on the bed and while I’m waiting for her to come back I fall asleep again.
I wake up as the door clicks open. I’m feeling revived, and pleased that I woke at the slightest sound, though I’m less pleased when I see it’s Nesbitt entering the room, not Annalise.
“Had a good sleep, mate?” I’m sure he doesn’t expect a reply. He picks up the porridge stuff, saying, “Time’s marching on. You’ve got to get up.”
“I’ll wait for Annalise.”
“She’s with Van. You’ve been asleep for hours, mate. Annalise and Van are checking out the bunker—it’s a rabbit warren. And I’ve been getting the range going and tidying up the mess in the hall. And Gabriel”—he grins—“Gabriel has got the job of gravedigger and you’re going to be his assistant.”
*
Gabriel and I are digging on the hillside. It’s slow work. The ground is hard, dry and full of large stones and roots. We have to use a pick and an ax to break the earth before we can make any impression with the spades. It takes hours and is done in silence after I realize Gabriel isn’t going to reply to anything I say, which is about five minutes into the job.
We finish late in the day as it begins to rain. The sky has darkened and a freezing wind has risen. The rain quickly turns to hail. I’m in the bottom of the bigger grave and I toss my spade out and ask Gabriel to help pull me up. I’m not sure if he’s making me wait or just leaving me but after a minute more of sleet I know I’m on my own. I clamber out, slipping in the mud and getting covered in it. Gabriel is sheltering under a tree, watching me. I want to say something about him and me, and about me and Annalise, but as usual I’ve no idea how to begin, so instead I say, “I get the feeling you’d like me to be in there permanently.” I indicate the grave with a nod of my head.
He doesn’t even reply to that but asks me, “Are you going to join the Alliance?”
“I said I would, and—”
“Black Witches aren’t renowned for keeping their promises.”
“I’m not a Black Witch, Gabriel. I’m half White. And I want to do what’s right. I think—”
“And what do you think’s right about joining them?”
“Soul is evil. He should be stopped . . . I told Annalise about the Alliance and she thinks their cause is right. She wants to join.”
Gabriel scowls. “I bet she does. Except, of course, that stopping Soul will involve killing, lots of it. Being whiter than white, being on the side of good is fine and noble and I’m sure Annalise will love that. Until she sees it up close and personal.”
“I don’t think either of us are under any illusions . . .”
Gabriel turns his head away from me and we’re silent for a few moments. I’ve never seen him in a mood like this and I can tell it’s pointless trying to explain things. I pick up my spade to go back to the bunker.
He stands in my way and says, “Talking of up close and personal . . . have you told her about you? Have you told her about your Gift?”
“Yes . . . mostly.”
“Mostly?”