The Lily Harper 8 Book Boxed Set

by HP Mallory

  Thank God for my peasant training, I thought, referring to my previous life, when I’d belonged to a medieval reenactment club. As a newbie, I’d been elected into the peasant class where I’d had to learn lots of things, including how to make a fire from nothing but pieces of wood, as well as the basics in knot-tying. How ironic that back then I’d never thought any of this information would have come in handy.

  How wrong I’d been …

  Folding the rope in half evenly, I wrapped it over and under Tallis’s left wrist, and around the bedpost. I did the same thing another two times, making sure there was enough rope to hold him in place. Then I crossed both ropes and wrapped them around the middle of his wrist and the bedpost, cinching them tightly.

  “Hmm, not bad,” I said to myself once I finished tying the knot. I glanced at Tallis’s unbelievably muscular arms and thought I should tie another knot or two on top of the two-column tie. I wanted to make sure the knot was as secure as possible. The last thing I needed was an irate Donnchadh breaking free and taking out his revenge on me. After binding Tallis’s left arm to the bedpost, I followed suit with his right wrist and the other post of the bed.

  As far as his legs were concerned, I couldn’t find anything to tie them to, so I just settled on another two-column tie to fasten them together. I figured he wouldn’t be able to get very far if he couldn’t move his feet. When I finished binding Tallis’s legs, preventing him from doing much of anything, I turned to the problem of my pants. They were now hanging halfway down my butt again. Seeing as how Tallis was very much at home with making his own clothing and shoes, I was convinced he had to have a needle and something close to thread somewhere.

  I replaced my sword against his chest, figuring it was the safest place, before going to the opposite side of the room. Tallis didn’t have a lot of possessions, which made searching through them relatively easy and painless. After a few minutes, I found a large needle and some narrow pieces of leather in a wooden box beneath his table. I threaded the large hole of the needle with the leather ribbons before setting to work on fixing the damage inflicted by Donnchadh on my pants.

  It took me about ten minutes to sew up the rip, and once I finished that chore, I turned to my fanny pack, which Donnchadh had also severed. A few minutes later, I’d sewed the belt of the fanny pack back together as best I could.

  My tasks completed, I faced Tallis and reached down, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. “Come on, Tallis, be okay,” I whispered to him. “I need for you to be okay.”

  Of course, there was no response, but his even breathing continued to hint to the fact that from a medical standpoint, he was probably all right. As far as his mental health was concerned, however, I couldn’t be sure.

  With nothing more to do for Tallis, I faced the problem of how cold and dark it was in his house. I decided to light a fire in the hearth. Collecting all the broken wood from his couch and chair, I piled them into the fireplace and found the pack of matches Tallis kept in a small iron bowl beside the fireplace. He also kept a wooden box full of aged moss, which he used for kindling. I reached inside and grabbed a few fistfuls of the stuff, tucking it between the pieces of wood I’d already piled in the fireplace. Then I lit the match and watched the moss catch fire until the entire heap of wood burned brightly.

  I glanced over at Tallis to make sure everything was copasetic with him, and it appeared it was. I faced the fire again, holding my hands in front of my body to warm them. That was when my stomach began growling, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything in who knew how long? The idea of satisfying my suddenly overpowering hunger left me aching with disappointment. Why? Because that was the part in the whole Survival 101, living off the land, etcetera, that I wasn’t good at. In general, whenever I traveled with Tallis, he provided our dinner. Truth be told, I hadn’t done any hunting at all.

  I stood up with a groan and approached the front door, not even sure where I should start. I glanced back at my sword where it leaned against Tallis’s chest, but I didn’t go for it because I figured it would be useless. It wasn’t like some random, savory animal was just going to throw itself on my blade.

  “A bow and arrow would come in really handy right about now,” I said out loud, and frowned as soon as I realized Tallis didn’t own one. Well, as far as I knew anyway …

  Deciding to do some investigating outside, I opened the front door and immediately noticed the carcass of something lying on the ground right in front of me.

  Ask and ye shall receive, I thought to myself as a grin curved my mouth. Hearing the sounds of the Grevels in the undergrowth, I realized this hapless, bloody creature was a gift from them. “Thanks, guys!” I said cheerily while bending down to pick the matted thing up. Returning to the low light of the fire, I studied the carcass, trying to figure out what it was exactly. When I failed to reach a conclusion, I decided I wasn’t that concerned over it. Instead, I took the carcass to Tallis’s basin sink. I used a jug of water, which was Tallis’s kitchen faucet, and did my best to clean the blood and dirt off the creature. I noticed that Tallis’s paring knife, which was really just a piece of flint that he’d sharpened into a blade, was sitting beside the jug of water. Before I had a chance to pick the knife up, Bill’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. Placing the carcass on the lip of the basin, I wiped my hands on my pants and glanced down at the phone. It read:

  It is Saturday. Three in the morning.

  It was Alaire.

  I thought you were supposed to text me once it was morning? I responded.

  It is morning, he texted back.

  Ha-ha, Alaire. I meant you were supposed to text me at a reasonable hour. I was irritated and could feel myself frowning.

  I was concerned that perhaps you were not still alive, came his response.

  Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m alive and well.

  I am not disappointed, my dear. Quite the contrary.

  My stomach started to growl as I focused on the carcass again and thought to myself that the only thing standing between me and my dinner was Alaire.

  I hate to end this conversation prematurely, but I have to figure out how to cook something that resembles roadkill, I typed. So unless you have any recipes for unidentifiable, bloody carcasses, I need to get going.

  Of what species is your carcass, Ms. Harper?

  I shook my head and shrugged, only then realizing he couldn’t see me. I don’t know, but it’s the size of a rabbit.

  Have you skinned it?

  No.

  Are you in possession of a knife or some type of blade?

  I glanced over at the flint blade again. Yes.

  Alaire didn’t respond right away, so I figured whatever he was texting was long. I could only hope he’d just retrieved his Betty Crocker Cookbook and was texting me a recipe for braised rabbit with mushroom sauce …

  First, you will need to skin the creature. Do so by cutting a ring around each of its legs, just above the leg joint. Do not cut deeply. On each leg, make a single slice going up from the ring cut to the backside of the creature. Begin to pull away some of the hide, working from the ring cut at the foot joint down to the creature’s genitalia.

  Its genitalia? I texted back, figuring he was having a go at me.

  What would you prefer I call it?

  I could feel my cheeks coloring as soon as I realized he wasn’t making a joke which made me sound like I was all of ten years old. I muttered something that even I couldn’t make out, but texted back: Never mind. Please continue.

  Very well, he replied. There was another lengthy pause during which I figured he was finishing his directions.

  Make sure not to puncture or sever the bladder as you cut your way down the creature’s middle. With both hands, begin pulling the hide from the body. It should slip off easily at this point. Quite like peeling a banana. Work your way into the sleeve of the hide where you find the creature’s arms, removing its arms from the hide. This can be a bit tricky, so take your time. Then simply
work the hide down from the upper torso to the head. Pull the hide to the base of the skull. Next, sever the head from the spine. The skin should entirely detach from the body. Next, clean and dress the flesh.

  I was impressed. I couldn’t help it. Wow, so not only are you the leader of Hell, but you’re also an expert hunter? You must have quite the resume.

  You are unimaginably witty, Ms. Harper, he answered, and even though we were conversing through text, sarcasm dripped off his words. As regards my resume … If you recall, I informed you that I hail from Swedish lineage?

  I did remember. It was a conversation we’d had upon first being introduced to one another. You said you were a Viking once upon a time.

  Quite so. And as I also informed you, that while I was not a noble savage by any stretch of the imagination, I was a savage all the same, which meant I had to know the ins and outs of hunting and foraging for my supper.

  That’s great, I texted back, not really sure what else to say. My stomach began to growl again, reminding me how hungry I was. Anyway, I’m starving so I need to get going. Thanks for your detailed instructions. Then I thought better of ending the conversation too prematurely. I added: maybe you should start writing a Viking cookbook …

  Your flare for the humorous never ceases to amaze me.

  I aim to please, I replied, not even realizing I was smiling until I felt my lips spreading into a grin of their own accord. Realizing Alaire was amusing me, I immediately forced the smile away and decided to get off the phone as quickly as I could. This carcass isn’t going to skin itself so I’m going for real this time.

  Very well. As always, it was a pleasure, my lady.

  Just as I was about to put Bill’s phone back into my fanny pack, Alaire texted again.

  Please give the Yeti my regards.

  The breath caught in my throat. “Yeti” was one of Bill’s pet-names for Tallis. During our first introduction to Alaire, Bill had referred to Tallis as such, which had amused Alaire no end. But that didn’t bother me. More concerning was learning that Alaire had figured out my mission through the Dark Wood had something to do with Tallis. That was information I didn’t want Alaire to know. Of course, the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was fairly obvious that my errand had something to do with the enormous, brooding Scot, especially since I was in the Dark Wood.

  I decided not to answer Alaire and, instead, replaced Bill’s phone in my fanny pack. I returned to the carcass that would soon become my dinner and decided to put Alaire’s explicit instructions to use.

  “We crossed the circle to the other bank”

  – Dante’s Inferno

  FOUR

  Tallis was still unconscious.

  I sat in front of the fire, after having eaten half of the creature the Grevels procured for my dinner. I was saving the other half for Tallis, in case he decided to wake up anytime soon. Even though I wasn’t full, my stomach was no longer growling and was now contentedly digesting whatever creature I’d just eaten. For that much, I was grateful.

  As for my insentient companion, I had a feeling he was returning to consciousness. It wasn’t as though he’d suddenly opened his eyes and started talking, or anything obvious like that, but his demeanor was substantially different than it had been mere hours ago. Instead of remaining comatose, for the last hour, he’d been thrashing around, moaning and groaning, while straining against the ropes that held him to the bed. And his sweating had increased tenfold. True, these weren’t necessarily good things, but I figured any sign of life was better than no sign at all.

  “Donnchadh.” Tallis’s voice was a mere whisper but I could distinctly make out the name of the warrior spirit inside him.

  It was the first time Tallis had said anything since my trusty sword had put him into this vegetative state. I immediately approached him, throwing all caution to the wind. Then, I remembered it might very well be Donnchadh at the wheel, rather than Tallis. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, I held myself back. I studied Tallis for a second or two longer, trying to determine whether or not it was safe to approach him.

  He suddenly threw his head from side to side and a grimace distorted his face, suggesting that he was in serious pain. Beads of perspiration poured from his forehead, and another unhappy moan escaped his mouth as he struggled against his bindings.

  “Tallis,” I said in a soft voice, trying to reassure him but at the same time trying to reassure myself that this was, in fact, Tallis whom I was dealing with. Taking a few tentative steps toward him, I checked the ropes to be sure they were still holding him firmly. They appeared to be doing a pretty good job so I figured I’d probably be safe if it was Donnchadh who suddenly awoke.

  “It’s just me … Lily,” I said, leaning down and placing my hand on Tallis’s forehead. This time, he felt hot. Although I obviously wasn’t a doctor, even I knew that hot wasn’t good.

  Previously, while zoning out on nothing in particular, owing to all the time I’d had, I’d noticed a scrap of fabric wedged into a hole in the wall just beyond Tallis’s head. Standing up, I retrieved the piece of what looked like muslin and took it to the sink basin. Reaching for the jug of cold water, I doused the piece of muslin in the water, wringing it out gently. Then I approached Tallis again, hoping the cold compress might lower his temperature.

  He was still groaning and mumbling incoherently, tossing his head from this side to that, but this time, his cheeks appeared pink, as though he’d been outside in the sun too long. Leaning over him, I ran the cold, wet compress across his forehead, sopping up the sweat that beaded along his hairline. As soon as I touched him with the wet muslin, he immediately quieted down and stopped thrashing. I couldn’t help but notice the acerbic smell of whiskey which was now thicker in the air than it had been. I assumed Tallis must have been going through alcohol withdrawal and was now sweating it out and detoxifying. Well, that is, if immortals had to do that sort of thing …

  Tallis started to buck underneath me again, tugging against his ropes as he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tightly together. I ran the damp cloth back and forth across his forehead again as he continued to struggle against the ties that restrained him. “Tallis, I’m here with you,” I repeated, trying to soothe him. “It’s Lily.”

  “Lil … ly,” he repeated and stopped fighting, but didn’t open his eyes.

  “Yes, that’s right,” I said as a big smile curled my mouth. “Can you hear me?” But there was no response. “Can you open your eyes, Tallis?”

  Still no response. He appeared to be stuck in the border between sleeping and waking. He muttered something unintelligible, which brought my attention to his mouth. His lips appeared so dry and cracked, they reminded me of the fissures in a parched desert. Thinking he was probably thirsty and needed water, I returned to the sink and doused the muslin in more water, cupping my other hand underneath it to keep the water from dripping all over the ground. I returned to Tallis’s side and got down on my knees. Leaning over him, I rotated his head toward me so I wouldn’t have to reach so far to empty the water into his mouth. Then I pursed his lips together so they resembled a fish’s lips and squeezed a few drops of water onto his tongue. At first, the water just seemed to pool there, but seconds later, he swallowed it.

  “Good, Tallis, good,” I encouraged him with a heartfelt smile, glad to be making some sort of headway. I squeezed more drops into his mouth and watched him swallow them. Then I stood up and retrieved the jug of water by the basin, returning to Tallis’s side moments later. I submerged the fabric directly into the jug and brought it to Tallis’s lips again. This time, I squeezed more water into his mouth, which he eagerly gulped.

  The sun was just starting to creep up into the sky, bathing both of us in an early morning blue. Tallis’s scar that ran the length of one side of his face didn’t seem as pronounced in the dawn’s light and he appeared younger somehow. Or maybe it was just that I was accustomed to the scowl he usually wore, which seemed more pronounced whenever Bill
was around. I smiled sadly while thinking how gratefully I would welcome that scowl now because it would mean that Tallis was back to himself again.

  Glancing outside the two dusty windows, my whole being seemed to lift with the realization that I would soon see the sun again. With the dawning of a new day, I knew everything would be okay, that everything would work itself out. It was a silly feeling, really, because the sunrise couldn’t guarantee anything, but I was so sorely in need of positive thoughts that I allowed them to run unchecked.

  Looking at Tallis, I placed my hand on his forehead and was glad to discover he wasn’t quite as hot as before, which I took as a positive sign.

  “Tallis, I need you to resist whatever is going on inside you,” I whispered. I dunked the muslin into the water again and transferred the water into his open mouth. “I know you can fight it, and I know you can fight Donnchadh,” I continued, even though I had no clue whether or not he could hear me, let alone understand what I was saying. But the house was so quiet that I needed to hear someone’s voice, even if it was only my own. “You’re the strongest person I know,” I told him. “I believe in you, Tallis. I know you can do this.”

  “Donnchadh,” Tallis muttered. Moments later, his jaw went stiff. I looked down at his hands and noticed they were fisted at his sides. Clenching his eyes shut tightly, he repeated Donnchadh’s name. Then he started battling with his restraints, huffing and puffing with the exertion. I placed both of my hands on his wrists and tried to still him, if only to calm him down.

  “Tallis, can you hear me?” I demanded in a loud voice.

  He grumbled something that didn’t make any sense, and I wondered if it was Gaelic.

  “Are you Tallis or Donnchadh?” I asked.

  He didn’t respond as he started to thrash again, muttering while gnashing his teeth in such a way that conveyed extreme discomfort. I guessed it had something to do with his internal struggle with Donnchadh.