Dawn's Promise

by A. W. Exley

  It rocked and thrashed on the ground, fighting to right itself. The vine split itself over and over until it resembled the tight knit of a net and flowed over the gargoyle’s wings. The bat-like wings were now trapped underneath its body by woody chain mail. But did the vine embrace the gargoyle or restrain it? Offshoots trailed over the ugly creature and appeared to be caressing its stone form.

  The tree wraith’s trunk split into two, forming some semblance of legs, and it straddled the fallen gargoyle. Leaves sprouted down the tree trunk and flowed out like the flare of a robe with kimono sleeves and partly obscured Dawn’s view. The foliage moved and flowed on an unseen breeze.

  The screams changed tone and became moans as the woman-tree rocked over its captive. Oh. Dawn had heard such noises before, coming from her parents’ bedroom at night.

  Bile raced up Dawn’s throat. She swallowed the repulsion but dug her fingers into the Ravensblood’s bark so tight a sliver pushed itself into her finger. She sucked in a breath at the burst of pain.

  The creature on the ground twisted as it thrashed back and forth so violently the enveloping leaves above it parted. The gargoyle’s monstrous head turned and lifted. Its stone eyes fixed on Dawn.

  She found herself staring at a square face with deep frown lines chiselled on the brow. Lines her fingers itched to smooth out.

  Impossible.

  Grey eyes laced with mercury turned silver by the moon light. A gaze she knew.

  Jasper.

  “No.” A single syllable rasped from her dry throat.

  Why was Jasper doing such things with…that?

  And when was he going to tell her Warders could take on such a shape and form? He had kept that knowledge from her, along with the truth about his ties to Ava.

  The stone monster roared as it renewed its efforts to break free. Its body shook as it raged against the vines and wooden nets binding it and holding it to the ground. The tree wraith cried out with its head arched back. It made a shrill noise that pierced Dawn like the splinter of bark and thrust deep into her heart.

  Dawn had seen enough and didn’t want to know what games the two creatures played in the dark. She bolted around the entwined forms and dove for the thorny barrier. She scrambled through the vine and squeezed back through the slender gap, not caring that the sharp thorns tore at her robe and pierced her flesh underneath.

  Once free, she kept running. Her feet pounded down the dark path as screams and roars came from behind her. Tears blurred her vision. She was a fool. Had Jasper and Ava planned this all along? He had strung her along with tales of an unbreakable bond, and poor naïve fool that she was, she believed him.

  The two were obviously intimately connected, no doubt by the bond between them of Lord Warder and the heart. A bond he had offered to Dawn. Instead, she found herself the unwilling third point to this triangle. Or had he lured her to Alysblud merely to use her as some pathetic sacrifice to their god?

  Something yanked at her hair and she pulled to a stop.

  No! her mind screamed. She wrenched sideways and bore down as pain shot over her scalp. She threw out her arms but encountered only unwieldy yew. Disoriented, blinded by the dark and tears, Dawn tried to remember where the path lay. It should be simple; there was only one path, yet she struggled to find it. Her outstretched hands encountered only yew and vines.

  Onward she ran as invisible talons scratched at every part of her. Her body was scraped and grated as she plunged off the path and into the thick hedges. Agonising lances were thrown through her body and exploded along limbs, back, and scalp. Tears rolled down her face as she chastised herself for being a deluded fool.

  Just as darkness reached out for her, Dawn realised the depth of her feelings for Jasper. For years, she had assumed her end would come when her heart wore out and quietly stopped beating. Instead, on seeing Jasper with Ava, her heart broke.

  22

  A stab of pain drilled into Dawn’s skull and pulled her from the void.

  “Ow,” she cried out, one hand going to her scalp. She thought she would awaken to angelic music and the smiling faces of her parents, not what felt like a hedgehog trying to burrow into her head. She had rescued the little creature from the pineapple pits, and now it betrayed her by being a tormenter in Hell.

  “Sorry, love, your hair is such a tangled mess. I was trying to get the knots out,” Marjory’s voice said from beside her.

  She opened her eyes to find the nurse at her bedside, a brush in her hand. Dawn rubbed her fingers over her hair and snagged something long and thin. She tugged and pain shot over her scalp again. She dropped her hand to find a stick in her fingers.

  Marjory rested the brush in her lap. “There’s all sorts in there. It’s a right proper bird’s nest. Surprised I haven’t pulled out any chicks yet, but plenty of twigs, leaves, and sticks. Looks like you tried to run through the maze walls instead of along the path.”

  “Cut it off,” Dawn murmured. Her throat burned, her head throbbed, and her chest ached where only splinters of her heart were left.

  The nurse picked strands of hair and bits of twig from the bristles on the brush. “I’m sure we can work through the tangles and get the forest out. It will just take a bit of patience, and you certainly won’t be going anywhere for a wee while.”

  Dawn didn’t care about her hair or anything. She just wanted the pain to go away. Was it possible for a soul to hurt? She felt cut and exposed down to the very essence of what she was. “Cut it all off. I don’t care.”

  A cough interrupted her thoughts, a sound that didn’t come from Nurse Hatton. Dawn raised tired eyes to look beyond the nurse and found Dr Day standing by her bed.

  “I’ll fetch some scissors,” Marjory said and rose from the chair.

  Dr Day stepped closer and picked up Dawn’s limp arm. He pressed warm fingers to the pulse at her wrist while he stared at the pocket watch in his other hand. He glanced at her as she attempted to sit up.

  “It’s good to see you awake. You gave us all quite a fright. Your pulse is still erratic, but it seems to be settling now.” He snapped the watch shut and returned it to his pocket with one hand and then placed her hand back on the quilt. “I was going to lecture you about the dangers of midnight antics, especially given the arrhythmia I heard in your chest and the tonic I found by your bed. But I suspect over the years you have heard enough lectures from doctors about what is best for your heart.” His moustache twitched, but he withheld his reproach. He was a handsome and pleasant chap. Why couldn’t they have settled on each other, instead of both of them pining after an unattainable member of the Seton family?

  “I am well aware of my condition. I have spent my life sheltered and protected like my orchid. This position was my opportunity to live. I found a new lease on life here, and my heart has troubled me little until I stumbled into the centre of the maze.” Her voice rasped, and her throat closed over the last word. She glanced around the room, looking for something to relieve the dryness.

  Mouse lay on the floor by the bed, and his tail gave a happy thump when she smiled at him. At least the dog’s affections were unwavering.

  Dr Day picked up a pitcher from the bedside table and poured a glass of water. He held it out for her to grasp. Dawn took a grateful swallow as the cool liquid extinguished some of the heat in her throat.

  “How did I end up here?” she asked.

  The doctor’s look was appraising as he helped Dawn sit up and placed a pillow behind her back. “Jasper carried you out of the maze and raised the alarm. We thought we might lose you. Your heart had stopped, and I had to inject you with a stimulant to revive the beat.”

  Not stopped. Broken. What a shame he had bothered to revive her. If only she had expired while curled up under the Ravenswood, at least her decomposing body might have done some good feeding the weak tree.

  “Nurse Hatton removed your torn nightgown and dressed you in a clean one while you were unconscious.” The doctor unhooked the stethoscope from around his
neck and rolled it up. He gave her a stern look. “You have multiple contusions and cuts over your body. Some are rather nasty from those thorns. None require stitches, but you will be bruised and sore for some days. We also need to talk about your wrist. That infection is quite nasty.”

  The heat in her wrist barely registered now she was covered in scratches from Ava’s serpent vine. Would the poison work quicker now and drag her down to madness? “It’s the black vine suffocating the estate. I believe it to be poisonous.”

  Dr Day frowned. “None of the men who have been scratched over the years have exhibited such symptoms. I’m sure it is dirt that has made its way into the wound. We cleaned it out while you were unconscious, and that will aid its healing.”

  “No men who have been scratched. Did you know it also scratched Lettie, many years ago?” Fire raced over her body and seeped toward her bones. How long did she have to find a cure? Lettie had endured for forty years, but Dawn wouldn’t have the same lifespan.

  The doctor stroked a finger either side of his moustache as he considered her words. “You think there is some connection between the infection on your wrist and Lettie’s condition?”

  “Is it not worth investigating if both originate with the same black vine?” The least she could do was seed the idea.

  He made a humming noise that could have been agreement or dismissal.

  Nurse Hatton bustled back in with a pair of scissors and a bucket. “All finished, Doctor?”

  “For now.” He dropped the stethoscope into his black bag and snapped it shut.

  Marjory looked to Dawn. “Let’s get your hair sorted then, if you are sure you want it to come off.”

  Dawn prodded at her hair. It felt horrid, like a solid mess of mud rolled on the forest floor. She probably looked like Ava in tree form, but less nymph and more troll.

  “Yes. I’m sure.” Her eyelids dropped closed and she drew a painful breath. Being alive hurt. She wanted to curl up and let the blackness claim her again.

  “I will leave you in the capable hands of Nurse Hatton. There is one last thing though. Jasper would very much like to see you,” Dr Day said.

  “No.” Dawn turned her face to the wall in case tears sprung to her eyes.

  A light touch fell as the doctor patted her shoulder. “Very well. I will tell him you don’t feel up to it. We can see how you feel later today or perhaps tomorrow.”

  The door snipped shut and low voices rose and fell in the room beyond.

  A scrape sounded as Marjory scooted the chair closer to the bed. “I’ll only take it as short as I need to clear the tangles. We don’t want you looking like some poor unfortunate who has escaped from Bedlam.”

  Dawn nodded, but remained silent as the scissors snipped. There were a few faint tugs on her scalp as the nurse worked her way around from front to back.

  “Something must have upset you terribly. Dr Day says panic stopped your heart.”

  “I saw something horrid in there,” she whispered. Her mouth and tongue were still dry, like soil too long without rain. “Two creatures locked in an unnatural embrace.”

  Marjory made a tsking noise. “You’ve been working yourself to exhaustion trying to match those young men, and now we find out you have a weak heart. You should have said something. You have so much on your mind, you probably just conjured something from an old nightmare and imagined it was real.”

  Bile burned up her throat at the memory scorched into her mind. “No. This was no figment of my imagination. I saw Jasper and Ava, but not as people.”

  There, she said the words aloud. She didn’t stop to think she might have gone mad, she simply accepted what she saw – a stone gargoyle man and a woodland wraith woman, performing intimate acts upon each other under the full moon. She could still hear the gasps, sighs, and moans coming from Ava’s wooden throat. They dallied with each other while the Ravenswood tree sickened and died. This was no bedtime fairytale like her mother had spun. She was caught in a nightmare.

  “Ah. Well. Things are not always how they appear. You should really talk to Lord Seton before doing anything rash.” The shears continued to snip.

  Dawn turned to allow Marjory to clear around her face. The nurse dropped knotted locks into a bucket at her feet. It looked as though she had cleared an ancient bird’s nest from a chimney. Dawn’s once-glossy chocolate lengths were matted and tangled in foliage.

  She bit her lip to keep the blush from rising up her neck as she remembered the twisted act she witnessed. “Despite the forms they took, it was rather obvious what I saw. I do not require further explanation about their actions.”

  Marjory let out a sigh and worry lines framed the sides of her mouth. “I have lived here most of my life, and if I know one thing, it’s that Lord Seton is a good man. He always does right by people, and he dislikes that horrid woman as much as anyone.”

  What the two had been doing last night didn’t look like dislike but quite the opposite. The gargoyle had seemed to fight and struggle, but what did Dawn know of Elemental mating habits? No, if Jasper was doing right by Ava, then Dawn was the cast off, to be scraped aside and discarded like meat gone rancid on a forgotten plate. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

  The nurse made a few more cuts around Dawn’s face and then sat back to appraise her work. “There, all done. Short hair suits you. You might even spark a trend. I wish there was a mirror in here so you can see.”

  Dawn waved her hand. “I don’t want to see. I would like to go back to sleep now, thank you.”

  “Of course, love. I’m going to stay here. I’ll be just outside the door if you need me. I’ll go shoo those men out so you have some peace and quiet.” Marjory rose and looked on the brink of saying something more, perhaps to extoll the virtues of her employer. Her chest drew in and her eyes narrowed.

  Dawn staved off the nurse’s parting comment by pulling up the blankets and rolling over to face the wall. Her entire body hurt, inside and out. There was nothing more to say or to be said. Once the door closed behind Marjory, Dawn let more tears free to wash away a little of the agony.

  She slept, eventually, and only awoke to a pressing call of nature, thankfully not that of Gaia or a treacherous plant. Her legs shook as she stood and pain flowed over her skin. Step by step she made it to the door and found Marjory sitting by the fire, knitting in her lap.

  She looked up and set the colourful piece aside. “Are you all right, love? Need a hand?”

  Dawn gestured to the water closet next door. “No, thank you. I can manage.”

  Within the small room she did her business and then ran cold water from the tap to dash over her face. A stranger looked back at her from the mirror. One with short hair that curled around her ears and haunted eyes that had seen more than her mind and heart could bear.

  She found Marjory in the kitchen, boiling water and spooning loose tea into a pot. “I’ll make us a cup of tea. That always revives the spirits. Do you feel up to a visitor?”

  Dawn scowled. She wondered how long she could avoid Jasper. No, Lord Seton. She would no longer be receptive to his quiet advances and presumed she would have to pack her bags and await the next train out of the small village. She glanced to her wrist. A clean bandage was wrapped around the original cut, but a smudge of black crept out from one side. No matter where she ran, she would take Ava’s poison with her.

  The kettle sang and Marjory wrapped a tea towel around her hand to lift it off the range. “Lady Letitia would like to come sit with you.”

  Dawn heaved a sigh and pulled out a dining room chair. Her body was grateful to take the weight off the cut soles of her feet. Would Lettie push her brother’s position or mutter something insane about how Soarers killed Dawn’s parents? Perhaps this was how those who lived for centuries found their entertainment, by torturing the lesser mortals around them. Let them have their cruel torments. She was numb to them now.

  “Very well. If she wishes it.” Outside, the light faded, and Dawn wondered if she had s
lept away one day or more. Since the train only came to Alysblud once a week, she needed to determine when the next one was due.

  “Master Elijah is worried too, and that old goat Hector and all your lads. I don’t think all the people who care for you will fit in this little cottage.” Marjory placed the teapot on the table and two mugs.

  Dawn laid her palms flat on the table. Faint red scratches had replaced the green marks from the Cor-vitis. Was it gone for good, lost in her dash from the maze? How easily one life was erased and replaced with another.

  Marjory poured tea and added milk before passing the mug to Dawn. “I don’t know what was said between you and the earl, but you have the look of someone planning to pack their bag and bolt.”

  “How can I stay?” Dawn stared at her tea. Of course she had to leave. She couldn’t continue at the estate knowing Lord Seton was entwined with Ava. Her problem was she had nowhere to go. There was no one who wanted her. No one who needed her. Her sand ran through the hourglass, and little time remained for her.

  Marjory reached out and took Dawn’s hand. “Running isn’t always the answer, you know. And putting aside what you think you did or didn’t see, we need you – the family and the wider community. Oh we have moments of levity and we all pull together, but living under her rule is a constant strain, like living on a battlefield waiting for the cannon to fire. And perhaps I am selfish, but a small part of me hopes that removing the evil cow will give Lady Letitia some peace and I can spend my twilight years nagging Hector.”

  Dawn clasped her hands around the mug and stared at the tea. She desperately wanted to run until her legs gave out, but could she turn her back and leave these people to their fate, whatever it might be? Life wasn’t fair. Why didn’t she deserve a happy ending to her story?