Willow took the last couple of steps toward me and closed the distance between us and I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the wrath. Instead, I felt her hand press against my forehead. “So long as you haven’t caught a cold,” she said. I opened my eyes and her expression was soft and – dare I say – understanding. I didn’t quite know what to make of it. “Did they explain to you the dangers of what you know?”
“Yes,” I answered. “Although, if what they say is true, and Stephan really is determined to find me, knowing who my enemies are might help to prepare me should we ever meet again.” I hoped we wouldn’t.
“I can agree with that, at least.” Willow dropped her hand. Her soft expression contorted into one of concern very quickly. “How Alistair will take this, I don’t know.”
“We can hide it from him for now,” Lavender said. “He’s barely here enough to notice if our attitude becomes less starchy. When he does find out he won’t be pleased but you’ve got four very powerful allies on your side.” She winked.
“I can’t say I’m particularly worried about him at the moment,” I said, wilting at my own words. “I feel as though I need to be protected from my own head sometimes. At least long enough to get a decent sleep.”
“Was this anything to do with last night?” Lavender asked.
“Last night-.” I rubbed my eyes and thought back to the dream. Pain shot through my head as I remembered the little girl and the creature. “Yes. My dreams were different yesterday. Ever since I arrived here they’ve been changing, but last night was the strangest of them all.”
“We can talk about this tomorrow,” Willow said, placing a hand on my back and guiding me toward the door. “As for now, change into some dry clothes while I fix up some supper. After that you’re going to go to bed and try to rest properly. I’ll make a pot of chamomile tea should you need it.”
I did as I was told and without question. I dressed in glorious, dry clothes, ate, and drank an entire four cups of chamomile before returning to my room accompanied by Ethan. According to him, my legs wouldn’t get me past the terrace, but I saw through him. There was something else he was after.
“You could have just said you wanted to go to the library,” I said as I picked up a book from the dresser and threw it on the bed, “this was your room after all.”
“It still is my room. You’re just squatting until we ship you back home,” he said, swinging the mirror forward. He disappeared beyond the door and into the shadow of the corridor and I sneered after him.
Arrogant arse.
CHAPTER TWENTY
WHEN I RETURNED to the room Ava was asleep. Her book was resting half open across her face, her nose jammed right in the middle of the pages, and her leg hung out from under the sheet. I smirked and shook my head, trying not to laugh. This Gnathian. What a complicated creature she was. Even in sleep I could guess her mind was full as she twitched her fingers and mumbled. As gently as I could muster I tiptoed toward the bed and tucked her leg back in before lifting the book from her.
The sudden rush of air must have woken her as she reached for me. “Ethan,” she said. I could just about hear her. “Will you stay with me until I’m asleep?”
“You were already asleep, silly creature,” I reminded her, but pulled the dresser chair beside the bed regardless. I flipped open my book and began to read in the dim light.
“What are you reading?” she asked partly consciously, tapping the page with a heavy finger.
“That’s none of your concern at this moment in time.” I lifted her hand away and slipped it back beneath the blankets, tucking her in tightly.
It was one of the first things I’d noticed the night we’d ‘officially’ met as Ethan and Ava. Her hands looked so frail and delicate when she reached out to me. I expected they would be soft, and they were mostly, but in the creases of her fingers and palms I felt the rough callouses gained from a lifetime of hard work, fighting and physical labour. A lifetime without a childhood.
“Sleep now,” I said.
A sharp intake of breath caught my attention. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to catch me off guard as I saw something silvery slip down her cheeks. I leant forward and whispered her name. She didn’t stir. She was asleep again.
What’s going on in your head? I moved to wipe the tear away…and stopped.
No. I couldn’t go through it again. The chair wheezed as I sat down in it and leant back. I had to keep my distance.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WHEN I OPENED my eyes I was standing in an unfamiliar room, full of glass tubes, bits of rubber, needles and a ton of other equipment I’d only ever seen at the healer’s place in Wetherdon. Beside me Ethan, Lavender and Ric were talking lightly between themselves. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Lavender was showing us something important.
Suddenly Ric turned and knocked a beaker from one of the wiped work surfaces, causing it to fall and shatter on the floor. He bent to pick up the shards, apologising profusely beneath the layer of silence, and Lavender batted him away from the mess. She pulled out a broom and brushed the collection into a corner of the room. My gut clenched as sounds started to filter in to complete the picture. It felt like my head was full of water. Again, this one was different; like I’d stumbled in half-way through.
I could hear raised voices above the ambient chatter. Willow, Alistair and…someone I didn’t recognise. Slowly, I turned from the others and opened the door behind me, walking out into the corridor. Thankfully, I recognised it this time. We were still in the house – the upper floor. There was a whining that bothered me. I turned the corner at the staircase and looked down at the entrance hall. Alistair was arguing with an unfamiliar man as they strode toward the main door, until Willow stopped them in their tracks. Oh Gehn, I felt sick. The veins in my head were pulsing, making my eyes swim with white spots and squiggled lines. That terrible whining had gotten louder.
I doubled back toward the medical room and discovered the source. A hefty chain, originally fastened to the wall, had three out of four of its clamps broken. The final one strained and vibrated under the weight of whatever it was holding up. My eyes slid along the chain to the source: a large lighting fixture that hung in the centre of the entrance. It had been made up of two heavy rings, one larger than the other, that held a circle of candles. At its base, a handsomely sculpted finial hung proudly with a dangerous barb in its centre; a barb that hung directly over the stranger’s head.
Suddenly the final clamp burst from the wall behind me, spraying me with flecks of old stone. I cried out blindly to those below as the chain ripped away but it was over. The mass of iron and gem crashed down in a dreadful symphony and red seeped across the main floor. No one moved again.