He slumped his shoulders. “Miss Blooms, I don't have a guess. For now, I'll keep watch to make sure nothing will happen to you.”
“But what about you?” I asked, hearing a slur in my voice. My muscles were getting deliciously heavy, I was distantly aware of my legs going numb. “How will you protect yourself from that thing?”
It must have been the drugs, I thought he smiled at me. I wasn't used to him doing that, not with such affection. “Please believe me, Miss Blooms, I can take care of myself. I'm more than capable.”
“Mmhmm,” I mumbled, eyes drooping. My brain felt as if a wad of cotton had burrowed inside. “I just don't want you to get hurt, Grault.”
“I won't, Miss Blooms,” he whispered.
“Farra. It's Farra.” I covered my mouth, feeling the world shift sideways. “Please... don't let that thing hurt you.”
“Of course.”
“And not... not me, either. Don't leave me alone, please?” I didn't feel myself hit the floor, I didn't even feel Grault catch me. All I remembered as I slipped off into a medicine induced slumber, was his voice from far above.
“I will always protect you.”
Chapter Twelve.
I dreamed about the water again.
The green world stretched all around. Above, I thought I might see the sky, the sun. There was only darkness before me.
The distinct premonition that something swam below me blossomed. To look down was to doom myself.
So I swam. I swam as hard as I could, hoping I was going the right way. The bubbles disoriented me. Then, the familiar teeth came down on my arm.
Opening my eyes, my ears rang with the sound of nothing. I saw the blanket around me before I felt it. My body was sluggish, as if every limb had fallen asleep. My bedroom was a welcome sight.
Sunlight pushed against the thick emerald glass. It was losing the fight when compared to my lamp, the bulb white-hot from the solar panel power. Wait, the lantern. Where is Tessa's...?
On the floor beside me, the orange glass glowed. It was reassuring, save for how it forced me to remember last night. I sat up like my blood had touched a live wire. The wood pile, the thing in the lake...
And how Grault had saved my life.
Throwing the covers aside, I tested my ankle carefully. Wiggling my toes, I noticed I had no shoes on. The idea that Grault had carried me up to bed, then stripped off any of my clothes (even something as innocent as sneakers) made my heart bounce.
Swinging my legs over, I toyed with applying pressure before finally standing up. The ankle was tender, but it didn't impede my walking.
Padding down stairs in my socks, my goal was the kitchen. There were too many thoughts in my head, growing the longer I was awake. The plan I had was basic.
I needed a bath.
Grault had told me before about how the furnace in the kitchen needed to be on. After what I'd gone through yesterday morning with the stove, I felt confident I could handle this.
The only problem will be that, without wood, I'll need to find something else to burn. Rounding the corner, I came close to twisting my ankle all over again. Stacked along the back hallway, just beyond the dining room, was a pile of chopped logs as high as my chest.
In wonder, I walked along them slowly. Did Grault do all of this? Imagining the man going down to the lake, gathering up the wood after what I had seen down there, it made my belly flip. At the same time, he'd clearly done this so I wouldn't need to endure another trip to the shore.
My smile hurt my cheeks. Scooping up an armful of wood, I toted it into the kitchen.
I was right, the furnace worked just like the stove. Stuffing it with logs, I fanned the matches I lit, watching the cherry coals come to life. Closing the metal door, I grabbed my hips and stood back. Good job, me. One hot bath coming up.
I had a hunch about how it worked. The fire warmed the tank of water, which the pipes would then carry to my bath upstairs once I turned it on.
There was still some pleasant surprise when, after I scurried back upstairs to check, the steaming water poured from my faucet. That was when I actually felt proud.
Alone in my room, I was aware the morning sun was rising higher. Everyone will be waking up, wanting breakfast, I thought to myself. I can't take too long.
Stripped of my filthy clothes, I placed the toiletries I'd bought near the big basin tub. Then, pulling the curtain around to add to the privacy, I dipped my fingers into the liquid. “Oh my gosh. That feels amazing.”
It was almost too hot, which was exactly what I needed. Gripping the edges of the tub, I sank down inch by inch with a number of little 'oohs' and 'aahs' along the way. Dipping my head under capped it all off as exquisite.
My muscles were more sore than I'd realized. The warmth seeped into the bone, easing my stiffness while reminding me of my tiny scrapes and bumps.
It was the first time I'd felt relaxed since I'd arrived at that house.
If I had my way, I'd have sat in the tub all day. It was with great reluctance that I pulled myself free, drying myself off with a sigh.
There was a mirror in the room. Tugging the curtain away, I caught a flash of myself in the surface. My pale skin was dotted with bruises from where I'd bumped into things, or worse, fallen on the ground. Frowning at the sight, I was happy to cover myself up in clean trousers and a rather bright yellow top.
Humming, I brushed my wet hair out, spinning it into a tight bun. Leaning close to the mirror, I gave my cheeks some gentle slaps. “Okay,” I said cheerfully, “here we go. I'm coming for you, brand new day. Watch out!”
It was incredible what a hot bath could do.
****
“Calm down, calm down,” I demanded, placing another pot of marigold tea on the table. “There's enough for everyone!”
My guests were lively that morning, I had my suspicions as to why. They'd shown up minutes after my bath, content to complain to me about their lack of dinner. Luckily, they moved on to pouting about pancakes again soon after.
With some wariness, I decided not to tell them about the lake encounter. Not yet, I needed to know more before I risked scaring them.
I gave them everything the kitchen had, taking the time to count all of the revenants and start learning their names as I did.
The blue, humanoid thing was Yishi. She hated the pancakes, but changed her tune when I brought her the last of the scrambled eggs.
White, blobby-fly-monster (my own private nickname for him) was Xallen. He just wanted tea, really. Or that was all he would eat. Maybe he's trying to be polite?
There was Coga and Koga, one purple and the other green. There was no difference in their names, I argued, until they demanded I look at the guest registry. I didn't, of course. I just took their word that their names were a mere letter off.
It wouldn't matter, I'd be calling them the same name whatever the results.
Junlit and Vibbs were the only ones keen to eat my pancakes. For that, I gave them the last serving.
There were other guests, but their names soon slipped away as the morning wore on. Juggling cooking, coffee, and fostering requests took too much of my memory power.
Desperate to feed them all, I actually scavenged the chicken and capon from the larder. They took longer to cook in the brick oven, and I was sure I'd overcooked and under-seasoned them.
I don't think the revenants minded.
They way they dug into that meal did two things for me. One, it unsettled my stomach. Two, it made it clear I should buy more meat.
There was one guest I noticed missing among the lot. I hadn't seen him since the first day I'd entered the house. Where IS Qui'nxious?
I was too busy to pry. Long after the breakfast feast was over, I was still washing up dishes. The sound of the running faucet blocked out Grault's footsteps behind me. It was his reflection in the window that alerted me to him. “Morning,” I said, glancing over my shoulder.
His eyebrows traveled up, his hand joining them as he brushed
his hair back. “Ah, morning Miss Blooms. How is your ankle today?”
“Perfectly fine.” It wasn't entirely untrue. My ankle did feel close to a hundred percent. To show him, I gave it a little wiggle.
A tiny quirk of a smile showed at the corner of his mouth. “That's wonderful. I see you took care of everything for the guests so far, too.”
“Sort of,” I laughed. Wiping my hands on a towel (I'd finally found them in the pantry) I spun to face him. It was odd, seeing him after last night was making my neck warm. “Um, so, I wanted to thank you again.”
“You don't need to thank me for doing my job. Accidental or otherwise.”
He's talking about how he saved me. Did it actually bother him that it was sort of a happy coincidence that he found me in time? “No,” I said, shaking my head so hard my damp bangs bounced. “I meant, you carried all that wood in here! It let me finally wash all the gross stuff off of me.”
Those long fingers adjusted his jacket. I realized I was staring at how he fiddled with the buttons. “I wasn't going to let you go back to the lake after last night, Miss Blooms. That, too, is part of my duties.”
“Oh, just take the compliment already,” I said, rolling my eyes. Lowering my voice, I leaned in. “When you were at the lake, did you happen to see the—well, anything weird?”
Grault just shook his head. “Nothing.”
It wasn't much, as far as news went. I wished he had seen it, whatever it was, if only to confirm my attacker's existence. Do I need it to be confirmed? I know it exists, I saw those creepy legs and heard that voice and... Quick to change the subject, I brightened my tone. “Here, I saved you some breakfast.”
“No, you don't need to—”
“Shh shh shh,” I said, grabbing the leftover plate of capon from the oven. Shoving it at his chest, I took a step back. “Just eat it, it's the least I could do.”
Seeing him stand there, holding the dish of food, he couldn't have looked more awkward. His eyes flicked to the meat, then to me. Trying to be encouraging, I motioned at him with my hands. It was as if he was doing everything he could to not even try the food. Finally, he slumped his shoulders and lifted a tiny chunk. His nibble was dainty, not what I'd expected.
I hadn't planned to be so on edge, so invested, but now I was clasping my fingers in the hem of my shirt and staring with baited breath. Will he like it, is this going to blow up in my face?
Grault swallowed, grease soaked fingers hovering by his mouth. “It's... good, Miss Blooms.”
My heart jumped, then sank. “Good?”
“Ah, very good,” he explained, taking another bite.
That helped me relax, a flutter of delight rocking my chest. “Seriously? I didn't do much, just cooked it until it was... you know, not bloody?”
He stopped, arching an eyebrow at me.
“Uh, I mean, it's clearly not bloody now, and, um.” Good job, the most appetizing description someone wants to hear when eating is 'not bloody.'
The way he smiled made my legs weak. I blamed it on my injured ankle. “Miss Blooms, calm yourself. It's very good. Thank you for saving me some, I happen to love capon.”
I didn't even know what a capon was until the other day, I thought privately. “Oh, you're welcome. I, ah, should get back to work. Lots of stuff to do around here still. Like cleaning, and groceries, and...” Trailing off, I felt a spark of courage rising through my body. “Actually, would you like to come with me into town today? It would help me to have another set of hands to carry things.”
He grimaced visibly, moving to set the plate down on the counter. “I can't, forgive me.”
“You... can't?”
“I can't.”
I twisted my mouth into a wrinkle. “Oh. Do you ever plan on explaining that?”
Grault was already turning away, speaking without looking at me. “I'm truly sorry, Miss Blooms. I simply can't. Let me know if you need anything here, though, and I'll happily oblige.”
Watching him leave, I leaned on the sink while digesting his rejection. It was a rejection, wasn't it?
Did he just not want to go into town, or did he not want to go with me?
Dwelling on what he'd said was useless. With frustrated vigor, I finished washing the dishes. When I reached for the plate I'd given Grault, I noted how much he'd left uneaten.
The sight of that leftover meat made me squeeze the edge of the counter. Scraping it into the trash, like I needed to remove the evidence, I scrubbed the porcelain until it shined.
****
My trip into town was a slow one. While my ankle wasn't broken, it didn't like all the work I was making it do.
The day was warm, but I felt the distinct crispness on the wind that warned winter wasn't so far.
Heading through the center of Barrow Village, I felt the now familiar stares. I wondered if I would get over that.
Or if they would.
Grault not coming with me on my excursion was still bothering me. But, there was one advantage to being alone.
Solid but polite, I rapped on Dirk's front door. Grault said we'd call on the doctor last night if I didn't get better, but he can't fool me. These two don't get along for some reason.
If he'd come with me, I wouldn't have made a call on Dirk. Now, though, it was an opportunity I planned to use.
“Farra,” he said the instant he opened the door. “Good morning! Is everything alright?”
I tasted the side of my lip. “Yes and no. This is sudden, but could I come inside and talk for a bit?”
Without a hitch, he stepped aside to motion me in. “Always. Come in, tell me what's wrong.”
Darting through his tight hallway to get it over with, I breathed easier in the main room. It was even better when he led me upstairs.
He offered me leftover orange juice, which I happily took a deep swig from. The walk in the sun had been rough. Normally it would take me an hour to reach the village. With my tender ankle, I'd doubled the time. “I hope I'm not messing up your schedule,” I said.
“No, no, not at all.” He sat across from me, an elbow tossed over the back of his chair. “My day is based around helping people. Usually it's the sick, or injured, but help is help.”
“Actually,” I chuckled humorlessly, “I am a little injured.”
That had his attention. “Tell me what happened, Farra.”
Setting down the glass, I rolled up my trousers. His eyes fixed on the bruises, then he was moving faster than I expected. Kneeling in front of me, he balanced my leg with his smooth palms. “It's not as bad as it looks,” I explained.
Dirk stared me in the eye, prodding the area. I couldn't stop my wince. “It isn't bad, you're right, but it still hurts.”
“It still hurts,” I admitted.
“I'll give you something to take home with you for the pain and swelling. How did it happen?”
“I tripped on some logs,” I said slowly. Looking down at him, I watched his interest shift from my ankle, back to my face. “That's not why I'm here. I wanted to talk to you about what happened after I fell. About a certain lake, and what's inside of it.”
The flash in his eyes said so much. “You saw it.”
“So you do know about it,” I gasped. “Grault didn't! He had no clue!”
The doctor set my foot down, climbing back into his chair. “He wouldn't. It's from before he was around.”
“But not before you,” I whispered. “Because you grew up with her, with Tessa. Right?”
I'd never seen him look so uneasy. “Yes, that's right.”
“What is that thing?”
His wrinkled hands slid over the table, folding together like a knot. “You saw it, what do you think it is?”
“I don't know.” Looking down into my lap, I fought the part of me that wanted to remember. “It was... awful looking. I didn't see much. Black, slimy, lots of legs.”
I heard his chair squeak as he leaned forward. “I'll be honest, I never actually laid my own eyes on it.”
“Tessa,” he said, looking out the window as if searching for the woman herself. “She told me about it. I think I was the only one who ever knew about her and him. And, about what really happened that night.”
“That night?” Squinting at the side of his face, I waited until he was clearly focusing on me again. “Dirk, please, I need you to tell me about it.”
His smile was sad, those warm eyes hiding away. “It isn't a pleasant memory. But you should know. You of all people should know. Farra, this happened a very long time ago. Please forgive me for not bringing it up, it was a hard time. A strange time.” Hunching his boney shoulders, the doctor leaned away. “I thought it wouldn't matter.”
“That what wouldn't matter?”
“You showing up here, taking over for Tessa. You look so much like her, but you aren't her. The sylph must be confused.”
“A what now, a sylph?”
“It's... well. Honestly, I don't know exactly. Tessa told me about it, but her description and yours are vastly different.”
My nails were making half-moons in my palms. “Different in what way?”
There, that sadness was written all over the lines of his face again. “She called it beautiful. She confided in me that she came upon it singing one night, this was back when she was around your age, even younger. As I said, I never once saw it, and it took much prodding before Tessa admitted to me what was going on.” I waited with baited breath. “Tessa,” he chuckled darkly, “was in love.”
“In love!?” There was no point in hiding my disgust. “With that monster? I don't—that's insane! How could she love that thing?”
He spread his fingers on the table, and I swore he was counting them one by one. Was he calming himself? “Who knows. I imagine it didn't look like a monster to her. Love is a funny thing, after all.”
I didn't know if I agreed. Biting my tongue, I pushed my glass of juice further away. The smell of the citrus was turning my stomach. “If you're right, and she loved it, why would it think I was her and try to attack me?”
“Perhaps that's my fault,” he sighed. “She was young, but I was younger. Maybe youth isn't an easy excuse. When I learned Tessa was falling for someone else... I thought it was a lie. She confided in me, and I responded by daring her to prove it. I told her to go into the lake and kiss her sylph, that I'd hide nearby and watch. Only then would I believe he was real, I'd said.” He hung his head, his voice hoarse. “I was an awful child.”
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