“What’s going on?” Edwin asked as he joined them, lantern in hand. “What happened?”
“Gone,” Jovan said, shaking his head and fighting to wake. Why was it so hard? One eye didn’t want to open, and his ear ached. No, not his ear. Hers. “She’s hurt.”
They thundered down the stairs, immediately seeing the broken common room door swinging in the light breeze. The innkeeper, still in his nightclothes, was struggling to pull it closed when the group pushed past him into the seemingly deserted courtyard. The darkness was absolute. Thick clouds obscured what bit of the moon was showing, but Aggravain lifted his head and breathed deeply.
“Blood.” He pointed, and they ran.
“Lich be damned,” Calder choked as the lantern illuminated the gruesome scene in swinging swaths of golden light. “Attilus—” He skidded to his knees, hot tears already in his eyes even as the light spilled further and showed him Melody, crumpled just beyond the body of his beloved hound.
Jovan’s mouth had gone dry, his mind crowded with visions of Kaeliph bleeding out while he watched, helpless. “No,” he whispered, the strength gone from his legs. He knelt, sick to his stomach at the sight of bare bone shining through Melody’s cheek.
Edwin gasped, bringing the light closer. “Is she—”
“No,” Jovan said, stronger. “She’s breathing.” He wrenched the knife free of the cold earth, and Melody’s cry of pain as the blade tore through the rest of her ear rocked them all to the core. Edwin nearly dropped the lantern, clapping a hand to the side of his own head with a shout.
“Give it,” Aggravain said, holding his hand out for the knife. “I can track him.” The curse spilled over into his human life at times, his ability to smell blood had been useful before, but after hearing Melody sing, something had changed. The scents were stronger, more distinct - he sniffed the blade, easily distinguishing between the combination of Melody’s and Attilus’ blood and the scent of the hand that had wielded it.
He paused for a heartbeat, recognizing the smell. He knew this man. He’d tracked him before, not too long ago, after the attack in the clearing when he had cursed Melody with the fever while trying to save her - from him. He’d hounded the man into the river, ‘Vain remembered, only losing the scent when the sun replaced the moon.
“Attilus bit him,” Calder said. “I hope it helps.”
Aggravain touched the blood on the dead animal’s teeth, memorizing that scent as well. “It does,” he said, dropping the blade and taking the few steps to the well. He touched the blood there, scented the air once more, and took off at a run.
“Senna,” Calder said, still in shock. “I should get Senna.”
Jovan let his fingers confirm what the flickering light was hinting at - the blade had missed Melody’s eye by no more than the width of his smallest finger. “Who else heals?” he asked, feeling the blood still pushing out of the cut. “She needs more than just Senna.”
“Duke Thordike has Healers,” Edwin said. “But they’re camped out past the gate.”
“Go,” Jovan said, pulling off the tunic he’d so hastily pulled on a moment ago. He folded it, pressing the fabric to Melody’s face and ear. The echoes of her pain made him wince, and he had to hold her head still when she tried to pull away. “Calder—”
“Beth,” the ranger said as Edwin set off at full speed. “Her mother can heal.”
“What?” Derek and Elias spoke in unison. The wife of Duke Korith? Magical?
“Then get her,” Jovan said. “And Senna.” Now that he was fully awake he could feel more of Melody’s pain - the cut on her face was numb and cold, but her elbows and throat were burning. Why hadn’t he woken sooner? She writhed, struggling to draw breath, and was weakly pulling at his hands.
Calder and Elias bolted in different directions, and Derek knelt across from Jovan. “How can I help?”
“Get her hands,” Jovan said. He was no stranger to injury. He had seen things in the arena that could turn even a Healer’s stomach and not thought twice about them - but this was no fellow fighter, this was Melody.
Derek pinned Melody’s wrists, trying to be gentle. “It’s all right,” he told her, not sure if she could hear him. “Jovan’s got you. Help is coming.”
“I need to get her inside.” Jovan gritted his teeth as the wind reminded him that snow was close.
Derek helped him balance Melody as he stood, keeping the tunic between her ruined face and Jovan’s chest. “What of Attilus?” he asked, looking at the slain animal. “Calder will want to bury him.”
Jovan paused. “Bring him,” he said. “We’ll all help, when we can.”
Senna was following Elias out the door when Jovan and Derek approached the inn, and she stopped, stunned. “Oh, Melody,” she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as Derek laid the dog by the stairs. She swiped impatiently at her tears, reaching to touch the girl’s face. “How bad is it?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Get her upstairs.”
Rhodoban met them on the stairs, taking in the situation in a glance. “What do you need?”
“Light,” Senna said. “I can’t see.”
The mage followed them back to Jovan’s room, lit the single lantern and bedside candles with a pinch of his fingers and a whisper of magic, then went in search of more.
“By the Break,” Senna cursed when Jovan moved the folded cloth to reveal Melody’s injury. Her stomach flipped uneasily. “She’s alive?”
“Barely.” He tossed the bloody tunic to one side and took a seat. “Something’s wrong with her neck. And her elbows. Is the baby—?”
“I’m checking,” she said, her hands already on Melody’s belly. After a moment, she nodded. “He’s fine, but …” Senna looked again at Melody’s ear, and the bone showing under her eye. “I can’t do this alone, Jovan.”
“The others are getting help,” he told her as the Healer repositioned herself to sit closer to the wound.
Rhodoban and Elias brought in two more lanterns, setting them on the nightstand by Senna.
“What happened?” Rhodoban asked as Melody shifted, restlessly trying to get away from Senna’s hands on her face.
“I’d like to know that myself,” Jovan said. “Whoever it was, ‘Vain is tracking him now.”
Melody’s hands clenched and unclenched in the blanket, and her breath was ragged in her throat. Jovan took her fingers in both of his hands, leaning forward in the chair. “It’s all right,” he told her. “I’m here. Senna’s here, she’s taking care of it.”
“Brody,” Melody whispered, keeping tight control over the voice she had to force through her swollen throat. The sound came out as little more than a hoarse croak. She looked from Senna to Jovan, trying to make them understand. “Douglas.”
Jovan could feel how much the words hurt her, and he squeezed her hand. “Don’t talk,” he said. “I hear you. Brody Douglas. We’ll get him.”
“Brody … wasn’t Brody,” she managed to whisper, but Jovan shushed her again with a finger on her lips. He wiped some of the blood from her other cheek, noting for the first time the second cut on her jaw.
“Be easy,” he told her. “There will be time for that later. Rest, now.” He held her blood-soaked curls off of her face so Senna could work, forcing a reassuring smile until Melody let her eyelids close.
“I know that name,” Senna said. “I can’t think why, but I’ve heard it before… No, I can’t do this yet.” She took her hands away from Melody’s face. ”It’s too much. Will you put pressure on it again?”
Jovan retrieved and refolded the tunic, and once again held it tight against Melody’s head, wincing as her whimper sent pain through them all.
Calder knocked and entered at the same time, flushed from his run. “She’s not coming,” the ranger said, apologetic and disbelieving. “Beth. She wouldn’t even try, I could barely get her to open the door.”
“Her mother?” Senna frowned, her hands laying lightly on Melody’s bruised arms. “She’s a Healer?”
“N
ot that she’ll admit,” Calder said. “But she saved my life, I know she can. She just won’t.”
“Then I hope I’ll do,” a woman said from the doorway, sweeping her cloak off and handing it to Edwin. “Though you may have to show me how.”
Jovan and Senna looked up, shocked. “Lady Thordike!” Jovan exclaimed, trying to stand and bow while still holding pressure against Melody’s ear. Senna stood and dropped a quick curtsey.
“Call me Marina,” the Lady said. “Please, sit. Young Edwin said Melody was hurt? How can I help?”
“You’re a Healer?” Senna asked. “I didn’t think—”
“I wasn’t until a few hours ago,” Marina said. “I heard her sing, and suddenly…”
Jovan nodded. “That happens. Just not often with Healers. I’m glad you’re here.” He looked to Senna. “Do I need to move?”
“Yes,” she answered. “Lady Thordike, if you’ll sit where he is, I can try to walk you through it.”
Marina’s face paled when Jovan removed the folded tunic from the side of Melody’s head, exposing the horrific injury. She covered her mouth with one hand, looking away. “Oh,” she gasped. “The poor girl.”
“We can help her,” Senna said. “Are you going to be sick?”
Lady Thordike shook her head, and accepted the chair Jovan vacated for her. “No, I can do this. I must.”
“Do you need anything?” Jovan asked, motioning for everyone else to leave the room. “We’ll leave you to it.”
“Water.” Senna had already taken Marina’s hands, positioning them over the wound. “For after.”
“Done,” he promised, pulling his second tunic out of his bag before heading out with the others to tend to the grim work of burying Attilus.
Dawn’s light was creeping through the windows when the two women came downstairs. The men had long since returned, the door was repaired, and the room was thick with the scents of bacon and fresh bread.
Jovan stood, offering his chair to Lady Thordike. Edwin immediately did the same for Senna.
“How is she?” Jovan asked.
“Asleep.” Senna accepted the seat gratefully. “We did what we could.”
“There’s a terrible scar,” Lady Thordike sounded exhausted. “And her ear … I wish I could have done more.”
“You did more than we could have asked, Lady Thordike,” Senna assured her. “She would be in much worse condition without you.”
“I wish Bethcelamin would have helped,” Calder said. “Not to diminish your aid, Lady Thordike, only to say that more Healing is never a bad thing.”
“Lady Korith has been indisposed of late,” Marina offered in explanation. “Last night was the first time I’d seen her in close to two weeks.”
“Did either of you see anything last night, when Melody was singing? Anyone suspicious, someone who would have done this?” Jovan looked around the table. “Any of you?”
“Lady Korith thought she recognized someone,” Marina remembered. “She was quite shaken about it. He was one of her husband’s men, I believe. Not one they brought with them. A Captain, perhaps? He was not in uniform. She said he looked ill.”
“There was a man acting sick,” Rhodoban agreed. “I saw him, by the kitchen. I thought it was just the song affecting him, though. I didn’t get his name.”
“Brody Douglas,” Jovan said. “That’s the name Melody gave. Does it sound familiar?”
The others shook their heads.
“Yes.” Senna furrowed her brow, trying to remember. “Aggravain said it, I think. When he first brought Melody to me. I can ask him when he returns.”
Derek leaned back in his chair. “Let’s hope he brings the bastard back with him.”
18
The pounding on the room door was accompanied by a low voice calling her name, and Bethcelamin’s heart nearly stopped in panic. She pushed back the blankets and ran across the small room, desperate to silence whoever it was before Jayden woke up. The wine he’d drank earlier as he complained about his headache wouldn’t keep him asleep through this much noise.
“Beth? Beth!”
She opened the door a crack to see Calder, his face pale in the glow of the hall lantern. “Sshh!” she implored him, but he was already talking. His voice was much too loud.
“Bethcelamin, please, Melody needs you, she’s been attacked, she’s hurt.” His hand was on the door, as if he meant to push it open. “You have to come.”
She braced against the door, shaking her head. “I can’t,” she whispered, motioning for Calder to leave. “Don’t ask this of me.”
“Beth, it’s Melody. She’s your daughter, and she needs you— please!”
She put her finger to her lips, begging him to be quiet. “I’m sorry,” she said, barely louder than a breath. “You need to leave. Please, I can’t do this.”
Calder pushed harder on the door when she tried to close it against him. “Bethcelamin, you can! You healed me, I know you can help her!”
Tears pooled in her eyes as she shook her head, and she could hear Jayden stirring in the bed behind her. Nausea and fear threatened to make her sick right there in the doorway, but she swallowed hard.
“It’s not possible,” she said, hoping Calder would see in her face how much she wished she could help, hoping he might understand why she couldn’t. “I’m sorry. Good evening.”
Calder moved his hand and she closed the door, grateful that the ranger hadn’t continued to push. She could hardly bear the look in his eyes, the disappointment made her chest tight with regret - but the fear of her husband was much more immediate. She took a shuddering breath and turned, leaning her back against the door and looking at the bed where she had finally been allowed to lay just a few hours before.
Jayden was sitting up, watching her, his face cold. “Entertaining, dove? At this hour?”
Bethcelamin shook her head. “Of course not,” she said, forcing her feet to move her back to the bed. “I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
“Who was it? What was so important they dragged us out of bed in the middle of the night?” He stopped her with a small shake of his head when she moved to return to the warmth of the blankets.
Her heart sank. “Melody’s been attacked,” she said. “She was injured.” Beth remembered seeing the Hunter Captain at the inn when Melody sang, and couldn’t help but wonder if her husband had broken his promise to leave the girl alone, if he had sent Lothaedus to do his dirty work.
“I asked you who was at the door,” he reminded her, clearly displeased.
“It was Calder,” she confessed, watching Jayden’s face darken further. “He thought I could help,” she added.
“Exactly what did he think you could do?” This was dangerous ground. Bad enough in Jayden’s eyes that she had been instrumental in releasing Calder so long ago, but to admit, out loud, that she had Healed him?
“Just be with her, I imagine,” she lied. “She is my daughter.”
“She doesn’t even know you,” he scoffed. “Why start now?”
Bethcelamin frowned. She looked at the comfortable bed, and then at her husband’s face. He was going to exile her to the floor again anyway, she thought, at least she could try to get some answers.
“Did you know?” she asked. “About the attack?”
Jayden’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you think that, wife?”
“I saw Lothaedus,” she replied. “When Lady Marina and I went to hear Melody sing.”
The surprise on his face was only there for an instant. “Did you tell anyone you saw him?” Jayden’s tone was a warning.
Honesty and fear waged in her thoughts. She had told Marina, but admitting it could mean worse than a night on the floor. “We barely spoke,” Bethcelamin said. “Marina was more concerned about my health.” It wasn’t an answer, but it wasn’t a lie.
It seemed to satisfy him. “She is no longer, I trust?”
“No, husband. She believes I was simply affected by a chill.”
“N
o more nonsense about having one of their Healers lay their filthy hands on you?” Jayden straightened the blankets around himself, making it clear his wife would not be joining him.
Bethcelamin shook her head, keeping her chin raised. “No, husband.”
“Good.” He didn’t bother to bid her good night, he simply laid back down and closed his eyes.
Shivering, Bethcelamin quietly stirred the small fire before taking her place on the floor, grateful for what warmth the coals provided. She played over their conversation in her mind, and kept returning to the flicker of surprise on Jayden’s face when she’d mentioned Lothaedus. He hadn’t denied sending the Hunter Captain, she realized, but she hadn’t imagined it. He was genuinely shocked. Who else would have wanted to hurt Melody? Chancellor Garen, perhaps, but he was long gone … and his was a face she would have recognized if he’d been at the inn.
Her heart ached again, recalling the disappointment on Calder’s face when she sent him away. She fell asleep hoping against hope that Melody was all right, that the ranger had found someone else to help her.
19
Lothaedus wiped the blood from his eyes and kept running. He was at least several minutes ahead of his pursuer - pursuers by now, he imagined - but it would take more than speed to evade capture, thanks to the snow. Douglas had made a mess of things, but there was no help for that now. Douglas was dead. Not a trace of the lovesick fool remained save the aching bruise on Lothaedus’ forehead which still insisted on leaking blood.
Lothaedus.
He knew that voice, but not like this, not this powerful.
“Garen?” He whispered the word as he ducked under a tangle of underbrush and headed for the river. Men hunted by tracks, but the same gift he had for finding and following a trail made him incomparable at not leaving one of his own.
The body was once Garen. The girl must die.
Lothaedus didn’t bother to puzzle over who was speaking to his mind with Garen’s voice if it wasn’t Garen. He reached the river’s edge and stepped in without hesitation, walking slow but fast so his steps could not be heard as anything other than the laughter of the freezing water over the rocks. He headed back the way he had come.
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