by Kristen Pike
One knock. Two knocks. Three knocks.
The house remained silent, hovering over her ominously.
Rowan tried the knob and it creaked as it turned, the door swinging open slowly, protesting as it went. A dark hallway stood before Rowan, uninviting and musty. Rowan’s heart pounded as she took a step into the hall, then another. She was four steps in when Chev stopped her, putting his muscled arm across her chest and shaking his head in the dim light.
Rowan took deep breaths and turned her head slightly to the side as Jace came up behind her, placing a hand on her lower back and moving his thumb absently. Rowan wasn’t sure if he even realized he was doing it. Rowan’s stomach churned at his touch and she lowered her head in a blush. He had not been more than a foot away since…
Jace peered down the black hall intently. It was silent save for the pounding rain outside and the gentle plop, plop, plop of water dripping from their clothes onto the plush carpet in the hall, soaking into it and making a shlurping sound whenever they moved their feet.
“Thee home is deserted.” Chev declared in his familiar accent, coming back into view. He nodded to Rowan and she exhaled, unsure of why she felt so shaky, wondering what she had expected to find in the house that had her so rattled. She stepped gingerly into the abandoned home and though no one was there, she imagined that the previous owners were just playing at some game and would return any minute and murder them all where they stood. Well maybe all besides Chev, I doubt anyone could kill him.
When the hallway ended, Rowan found it branched off into two separate areas, another dark hall that likely led to the sleeping rooms, and a large opening that revealed the kitchen. A large wood stove sat in one corner of the massive kitchen while a massive table, big enough to seat her and her company, plus some, dominated the center of the room. A long brown seating sofa was pushed against the far wall. There were windows on every wall and even a window in the roof, letting in the meager sunlight that dared break through the thick black clouds overhead. Rowan felt exposed with all the windows and had the urge to find a few blankets to throw over the eyes to the outside, but pushed it down with a frown.
Rowan sat at the large table, soaking the wood chair instantly, as the men searched the house for some candles to brighten the murky space.
“Got some!” Barton yelled, coming victoriously back into the kitchen and they were lit quickly after. Galamee was searching the kitchen for food and soon discovered a pantry stocked full of dried vegetables and cured meats. That night they feasted, though Rowan only took a few skimpy bites, the food sitting like rocks in the pit of her stomach.
As the group ate diner, thunder clapping over their heads, they discussed who would take what room. There were five rooms in the cabin, a single bed in each of them.
“Rowan will get one of course,” Jonquil stated, eyeing Rowan, who sat numbly in the chair, still feeling chilled and soaked though she had changed into dry clothes hours ago. She didn’t pay attention as the men fought over who would sleep on the other four beds, and who would take the floor.
“Someone will also need to stay with Rowan through the night.” Jonquil threw out and Rowan raised her head, scowling, though she remained silent. I’m not a child. I don’t need watching. But, if they wanted to watch over her, who she to tell them they couldn’t?
“I will.” Jace volunteered, which was met with snickers, a few ‘I bet you wills’ and one whistle. Rowan looked at them confused and Jace lowered his head in a blush, which only confused her more. Her heartbeat picked up at the thought of sharing a room with him, and she too ducked her head.
When everything was settled and the other men gone off to continue their bickering, Rowan and Jace were left alone at the table. The candle light flickered as it got down to the wick, tendrils of light bouncing off the walls around them. The pair sat and looked anywhere but at each other. Rowan fiddled with her hands, and Jace traced the grooves in the wood table.
Jace cleared his throat once; like he wished to say something, but when she looked up at him, he only made a grunting sound, and then grimaced. Rowan frowned, not sure why there was this awkwardness between them, when it had only been easy and comfortable previously, being around Jace was like breathing, the most natural thing in the world.
“Well, I think I shall retire.” Rowan announced to the silent room.
“Ok.” Jace said bluntly and stood so fast his chair toppled over. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“ he blustered, stooping to right the chair. Rowan creased her brow, has Jace lost his mind too, will we all share the same fate?
Rowan didn’t say anything further as she retreated to her designated room, taking a candle with her to light the way. Rain pounded on the windows, a steady cadence that mocked the unsteady beat of her heart, but the sound soothed her as she settled into the bed. After so much time sleeping on the forest floor, it was like laying down to sleep in a cloud. The blankets were soft and thick, the pillows stuffed full. Rowan punched hers trying to flatten it, unaccustomed to such thick luxuries after her months of travel.
Rowan had almost drifted into unconsciousness when the door creaked open hesitantly. She opened her eyes but could barely make out the shape of Jace, his form only a shadow lingering on the threshold of the room. He stepped into the room cautiously and began laying blankets down on the floor, which struck Rowan as absurd.
“The bed is soft and plenty big enough to share.” Rowan offered into the darkness, her voice sounding louder than it was, carried by the stillness of the night.
Jace stood there silently for the longest time, making Rowan hesitant. Proper young women do not invite men into their bed. Its completely innocent, he needs rest just as much as I do. She reasoned, two different parts of herself warring with the other. As Jace stood there, Rowan thought he wouldn’t take her up on her offer, and found that she was irrationally sad at the idea.
Just when she thought he would decline he took a step forward, then another, until he was standing over her. Rowans heart leapt soared ran off altogether to float among the clouds at the nearness of him, though she could not say why. She scooted over and Jace slid in beside her, pulling the covers over himself, and lay very stiffly, which didn’t seem at all comfortable to her.
“I didn’t think you were going to get in.” Rowan said softly, turning on her side to face him, shoving her arm under her pillow.
“I wasn’t.” He answered; his voice filled with a kind of pain. Desperation? She thought, and she wanted to reach out and comfort him. Rowan realized that her hand was mere inches from him and it would hardly take any movement at all to touch him. She blushed, thankful for the darkness, and withdrew her hand close to her, tucking it firmly against her chest lest it should get some notion and reach back out of its own accord.
She shivered, almost imperceptibly, but automatically Jace turned to her. “Are you cold?” He asked.
“A little.” She lied, unsure of revealing her true feelings to him, for she did not understand them herself. Thunder clapped overhead, as if laughing at her, mocking her. Lightning brightened the room for a miniscule second and Rowan could see Jace’s bright green eyes illuminated in the light, looking at her concerned.
“Here,” Jace said. He moved slowly toward her, as if not to frighten her. Like she was some wild animal that would bolt, or maim him at the slightest provocation. He reached over and grabbed her waist, it felt small to Rowan under his strong fingers and seared her skin through her sleeping shirt, her whole body felt like it was on fire, a delicious breathtaking fire. Jace pulled her to him and stuck his arm under her head, so her cheek rested on his shoulder, her body molding perfectly to his side. “Is this ok?” He questioned and in response, she placed her hand on his chest, flushed to find he did not have a shirt on.
Her palm rested over his heart and she was astonished to find it was hammering just as hard as hers was. “Your heart is beating wildly.” She commented breathlessly, though she hadn’t meant to say the words aloud.
&n
bsp; “It always is around you.” Was all he said. Rowan frowned wondering what he had meant by that. Do I frighten him? She didn’t question him further as sleep tugged at her consciousness. She gave in, listening to the sound of their beating hearts echoing throughout the room, thinking her body fit perfectly against his, and as she drifted into sleep, she wondered if he thought so too.
ELEVEN
Jace awoke with a start, his body jerking as he jolted from his dream. Am I still dreaming? He thought to himself looking down at Rowan, still slumbering tucked against him.
He lay flat on his back, his right arm stretched out. He could not feel his hand, Rowan’s head, after lying in the same spot for hours had cut off the circulation to his arm, but he could not bring himself to move it, for fear of waking her. Her black hair tumbled about her head, framing her face and making her look younger then she was. Her eyes were closed and her lips were slightly parted, her breathing even. Her hand was curled on his chest and at some point she had thrown her leg over his and his left hand was resting on her thigh.
He breathed deep the scent of her, like pine needles and sunshine, and it was conceivably the sweetest thing he had ever smelt in his life. This might be the best dream I’ve ever had.
Jace lifted his hand from her leg and brushed back her tangled hair from her face. Her eyes moved behind their lids in response. He brushed his thumb across her chin, along her jaw. Her skin is so soft, I always knew it would be. He brushed her neck with his knuckles and she made a sighing sound, moving her head slightly, exposing more of her throat.
Jace shuddered deep inside himself looking at her bare shoulder, where her nightshirt had slipped off; he skimmed the skin there, sighing. His heart hammered as he moved her from his arm, letting her slide to the bed, so he hovered over her. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. He wished desperately that he were no longer dreaming, that she was here and she would open her eyes and tell him to kiss her.
Jace ran his hand down her waist and rested it on her stomach, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. Preoccupied in his thoughts as he was, he hadn’t felt her go rigid.
“Jace?” He heard her melodic voice squeak. He looked up at her expectantly, in my dreams this is always the part she kisses me. “What are you doing?” She asked, confusing him. She never asks that.
“I-“ he started. Is this turning into a nightmare? “I just-“ he began again, realization slowly dawning on him. He scrambled from the bed, falling to the floor, taking half the blankets with him. Rowan looked as confused as he felt, sitting up on the bed with a frown. He shook his head to say sorry, he thought he was dreaming, but he didn’t know if that would make it better or worse.
“I was watching you.” Rowan stated finally, breaking the heavy silence between them. Jace frowned, his brows low over his eyes, confusion running rampant through his mind. Is she mad at me? Does she hate me now? I think I would shatter apart it if she hated me. “No one’s ever looked at me like that.” She said after some time, her blue eyes staring deeply into his, making his heart stutter uncontrollably. She doesn’t sound angry, he thought. “What were you thinking about, when you looked at me like that?” She asked him, her blue eyes large, innocent.
“I-“ he began, stopping, unsure of what to say without scaring her, or making her turn from him in disgust. I need you. I love you. You are my entire world.
“You could show me.” She volunteered, sincerity showing through her eyes. She laid back on one elbow, her hair tumbling down her arm like a midnight waterfall. Jace wanted nothing more in the entire world than to show her everything he had ever thought about her.
Jace moved back to the bed before he even had the thought that he was going to move. Startled, Rowan fell back on the bed, her eyes trusting as she looked up at him. Jace lingered over her, his body incased in a heat that seemed to Jace to make him slightly insane. She closed her eyes slowly and opened them again and he could see the heat in her too. Even if she did not know quite what it meant.
“Jace.” That was all. His name. All the pleading in the world behind it and it broke down every ounce of his self-control. When she said his name like that, he knew, she wanted him too. “Jace.” She said again, this time laced with a kind of urgency, a different one though then he was expecting. He pulled back, her eyes had grown concerned. “JACE!” She yelled, and he bolted upright.
Rowan stood over him, anxiety written on her face. He was wrapped in blankets and he grabbed one more to quickly cover his upper legs, heat rushing to his cheeks. He bowed his head, angry suddenly, that even in a dream he had let himself be so carried away. “Are you alright, you were talking in your sleep, I didn’t know…“ She trailed off, her eyes searching his with a dark look behind them, as if she were remembering some horrible memory.
“I’m fine.” He grumbled and immediately wished he could take it back. She looked hurt, and it was not her he was mad at but himself.
“Ok,” Rowan said quietly, turning her head and walking from the room, leaving Jace alone with his troubled thoughts.
It had been the most vivid dream he had ever had, probably thanks to the fact that she had slept curled by his side the night before, but it had been nothing more than kindness on her part that had invited him into bed with her, and he would do best to remember that. He had taken her simple act of charity, and blown it way out of proportion.
Got his head in the clouds that boy. Jace thought angrily, his mothers words flinging up to laugh at him in his moment of misery.
How could someone like her; beautiful, kind, smart, pure, perfect in every way, ever return the feelings for someone like him? A poor baker’s son. With nothing more to offer her than the love he had in his heart and perhaps a cabin like this one. She had grown up in a mansion with expensive yellow dresses and would find a match that could give her that again. That’s what she deserved anyway, and he was only fooling himself to think she thought otherwise.
Jace cursed as he tossed the blankets from him, letting them fall heavily across the bed to drape onto the floor. He slammed his body into his clothes, rubbing his palms angrily over his eyes to clear the grit. When he stepped into the hall, with a scowl on his face and in no mood to converse, he found Jonquil looking to do exactly that.
“Heey! Have any FUN last night?” Jonquil asked with a laugh, poking Jace in the ribs with his elbow. Jace reacted on instinct; slamming his fist so hard into Jonquil’s face, he swore he broke every bone in it.
“Damnit!” Jonquil shouted, blood pouring from his nose. “I didn’t mean anything by it Jace, only a joke.” He sputtered, blood staining the front of his dark shirt.
Jace stalked off, leaving Jonquil behind him before he did something stupid. Like hit Jonquil again. Or choke the life from the stupid man for insinuating that Rowan was the type of person that could, that she would... Jace swore, smacking a wall to stop himself from going back for round two with Jonquil.
Jace stepped outside the cabin. Breathing in damp air from the rain the night before. The rain had stopped now and the sun shone feebly through the trees canopy. Water dripped idly from branches and the roof, making music with the birds. Jace swore again, his anger ebbing in the cold morning air.
“He shunt have that that. Not to you. Any fool kin see that you’re gone for that girl.” Two fingered Chev said stepping onto the porch.
“Yea, and what do you know of it?” Jace demanded, more hostile than he had meant to.
“More than some would think.” Two Fingered Chev said absently, running a finger across the tallies on his arm. Jace said nothing to that, only plopped down on the steps, resting his elbows on his knees.
“She doesn’t feel the same.” He stated, a hollow feeling piercing his chest that just might cleave him clear in half.
“Some would be surprised.” Chev responded, and by the time Jace whipped around to question him farther, he had already slipped back inside, in that silent way of his.
Jace stood, thinking a walk woul
d do him good. It would give him a better chance to check out their surroundings. And give him an excuse to go anywhere but back inside the house, where he would have to face Jonquil and apologize. Or face Rowan, and love her so desperately but never be able to say so to her. Neither option sounded appealing to him, so a walk it was.
Jace hadn’t been walking long when he smelt it. He covered his nose with his sleeve to keep from gagging as he halted over the bodies. They lay in a low ditch, as though someone had started to dig a grave for them but then found a better use of their time, leaving the bodies to the elements and animals.
They were an older couple, their hair gray, and their skin wrinkled. The man had several stab wounds in his chest and the blood soaking his shirt was dark with age. The woman however had lacerations covering most of her body. He couldn’t tell which wound had been the killing blow. Maybe all of them were, slowly leaking her life’s blood until she was nothing more than skin over some bones.
Whoever did it had really hated this woman, Jace thought. He was about to turn away when he saw it. The symbol carved in the tree by the heads of the dead bodies.
It was an eye, and Jace shivered. He felt like it was watching him, that the carving could see him standing there, observing it. It felt evil. At the bottom of the eye were some words in a language Jace did not know.
Jace hurried back to the house to fetch Rowan. He burst through the cabins front door, panting. “Rowan!” Jace called, his voice urgent. She came into view from the kitchen, looking confused. “There’s something you should see.” He told her breathlessly. She nodded, following him back through the woods, accompanied by Chev.
Chev said nothing, as usual, while he observed the murders. Rowan was muttering under her breath, pacing. When she saw the drawing she gasped and hurried to it, tracing the image with her fingers. Her small delicate fingers slipped over the curved lines of the eye, as if trying to commit them to memory. Last Rowan felt the words, mumbling to herself as she did so.