Building the wall went much slower, now that Mad was training the willing men all night long. He did drills with them, marched them through the region and set them to work rebuilding houses that were in disrepair. By the time the sun rose and they were given time to rest their sore muscles, they weren’t as enthusiastic about lugging bricks around to the wall.
“You’re mixing mortar today. I heard Pascal tell you that.” Bastien frowned down at me as I hefted the wheelbarrow filled with bricks, and started ambling toward the wall.
I knew Bastien was telling Pascal not to let me work too much, but I decided not to call him on it. “The mortar’s as mixed as it should be. The brick hauling is falling behind, so I’m helping where I’m needed, if that’s alright.” There was a sparrow perched on my shoulder who chirped in my ear little songs about twigs. My new pet bird was supposed to be filling me in on the goings on of the village, but Emil often got distracted. He was a good singer, though, so I didn’t mind. I’d taught him the tune of one of my favorite Lost and Forgotten songs, “You Never Knew Me”, which Emil totally rocked. He was better than a radio, for sure.
Bastien grumbled about me being difficult, but he didn’t dare say anything more about it. We had hit an unspoken agreement of limiting the hostility between us. It was a fragile truce, but we tried to respect it all the same. “Just be careful. Jean-Luc told you to slow down. Don’t think he doesn’t write stuff down for me.”
I parked the wheelbarrow near where the guys were working, and gave Montel a fist bump in lieu of an actual greeting. When I addressed Bastien, I tried to stand my ground without being snippy. I kept my chin pointed downward as I spoke with as much grace as I could muster. “I know my limits, Bastien. I’m working at the same speed as the rest of the guys.”
“They don’t need to sleep like you do.”
Instead of responding to Bastien, I spun on my heel and sauntered away to go stir mortar like a good little girl. It was actually a fine job, but once it was mixed, it only needed the occasional stir. I didn’t like how it felt to sit idly while everyone else was working up a good sweat.
Bastien visited me when I sat back down to stir the heavy open kettle. “I’m not trying to piss you off. I just wanted to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”
I gave him a curt bob of my head, but said nothing.
“You think Mad’s done scouting the perimeter?”
I shrugged, and then took a sip of water from my canteen. “I haven’t seen him in days. He’s pissed at me. Either that, or he’s just super into the job.”
Bastien added more water to the mix, since it was starting to clump. “He’s pissed at himself. He didn’t realize he’d be hurting you by leaving. Especially with the whole public shaming thing with your engagement. Mad doesn’t… He has a hard time understanding people. More than most. Usually his Untouchable status makes that worry go away. He’s not used to caring who he hurts, but he loves you. He’s upset he got it all wrong, so he’s afraid to be around you. Doesn’t want to hurt you again.”
I blinked at Bastien. “Are you serious? He doesn’t have to… I didn’t mean for him to internalize it like that.”
“You meant for him to understand that leaving was the wrong move, and that there were consequences to his decision. People assume he feels nothing, but when something finally does get through, it cuts him deeper than most.” Bastien cast me a humble glance. “So when you do see him again, you might want to give him something that lets him know he didn’t break you.”
“He didn’t break me.”
“I know he didn’t. I did.” Bastien didn’t leave room for arguments, and I had none to offer. His shoulders curved, doing that self-protecting thing he often did when he assumed life might attack. “Everything I did… You were right to send me away.” He lowered his head in shame. “I got our baby murdered. I was passed out right next to where Abraham Lincoln was probably crying for me to save him.” He ran his hand over his forehead, and kept his eyes downward. I could tell this wasn’t the first time he’d felt this stab of guilt.
I didn’t say anything to try and assuage the self-contemplation, but let him feel it. The others gave me a wide berth when Bastien was around, so our conversation remained private. I didn’t know what to do, so I settled for resting my hand on his spine to let him know that even though I wasn’t his girlfriend anymore, I was still a safe place for him. “We buried him in the woods with Hamish. I can take you there, if you like.”
Bastien’s head bobbed, and he kept his eyes on his knees. “My old man was like that. One drink, then he’d slam ten more. Spent a fair amount of my childhood cleaning puke off the floor.” His lashes swept shut in self-loathing. “I didn’t want that life for you – the man you count on, passed out from drinking when you need him most.”
I kept my mouth shut, unsure how to handle Bastien’s closely guarded childhood gracefully without making him crawl back into his turtle shell. I rubbed his back to soothe the ache that had been festering inside of him for far too long.
Bastien slumped against me, and then reached across my lap to gather up my other hand in his, holding my knuckles to his cheek. “Link and Mad managed to knock some sense into me. I’m not an addict. I mean, I can go months without touching a drop. Years, maybe. But once I start, I can’t stop.” He shook his head at himself. “I’m not going to drink again, even if you never take me back. Abraham Lincoln counted on me, and I let him down. That was my wakeup call. If you see a drink in my hand, don’t try to talk me out of it. I want you to walk right up to me and punch me in the face. Mad and Link were given the same instructions.” He pushed my knuckles to his cheek to demonstrate.
“I think I can manage that. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for admitting you have a problem, and doing something about it. We have whole support groups up in Common for stuff like that. I wish Avalon had them for you.”
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the dirt-spattered tips of my fingers one by one. “Don’t be proud. I’m too ashamed for anyone to be proud of me.” He cleared his throat and stood. “I need to go check for threats. I won’t be out of your sight, though, so don’t worry about any attacks. I’ve got this.” He met my eyes, and I could see the humility replacing the brazen attitude he’d displayed when we’d first met. “I’ve got you.”
True to his word, he didn’t let me out of his sight. As frustrating as that was in the beginning, we were finding a rhythm as time gave us the grace to put certain things into a more merciful light.
By the time the day was called because we’d lost the sunlight, I was nice and exhausted. Having my lueur in the vicinity gave me my appetite back, and had helped me sleep deeper. I wasn’t looking over my shoulder quite so much, either.
That evening, I waited in the line for my meal in the Town Square with the rest of the laborers in Avalon, but Link did his usual cutting to the front and brought Bastien and me bowls of stew, so we didn’t have to wait. I wanted to protest again that it was rude, but if he hadn’t cared the first six times I’d warned him, I knew he wasn’t about to change any time soon. “Thanks, Link.”
“Ye look like ye might fall over. Have a seat with your old Link. Tell me about the wall. Come on and sit with us, Bastien.”
Of the trio, Link had been the first to break through my icy tundra. It was too much effort to stay angry at him when he was determined we would get along. He’d employed jokes, frustration, flattery, and finally sincere apologies. It was the apologies without the added excuses that did it. Now he was making it his mission in life to get Bastien and me to reconcile. There was something sweet about the eternal optimist in Link. He’d seen so many brutalities in his life, but he would barrel through them all and rearrange them until his world was in an order he approved of. You had to admire that.
Link sat on the second step of the platform, his long legs stretching out next to mine as I sat on the bottom step. “So, tell me about the wall. Is it still a wall? Tell old Link all about the grand
things tha make it a wall.”
“Well, bricks, for one. Then we mix the mortar with unicorn tears and rainbow dust. Then I wave my princess arms over the cauldron and whisper the magic words: ‘I like it when you call me Big Poppa. So wave your hands in the air, like you’s a true player. Because I see some ladies tonight that should be having my baby – baby.’”
Link loved Common rap the more blatantly filthy the lyrics got. He threw his head back in a laugh. “Ho! That’s even grander than the one about your arse.”
Bastien’s head whipped to the two of us before he settled in next to me on my other side, giving us a healthy foot of space. “Maybe that’s not the best thing to be singing about.”
Emil chirped in my ear that he thought I had a lovely voice. I stroked his feathers with my pinky before spooning some of the hot stew. It was thick and comforting, as it always was. I had been sharing my chunks of beef with Draper, but my brother was busy chatting up one of the bustier women who giggled at his jokes, like they were the first jokes that ever were. Instead, I spooned a hunk of meat into Link’s bowl, who chomped at it greedily.
Link leaned down when I made to give him another piece. “I think our Bastien could use the meat more than me today. He looks a wee bit piqued.”
Link was always trying to get the two of us to reconcile. Truthfully, I wasn’t even all that mad anymore, but I didn’t trust Bastien the way I used to, and that made things cool instead of congenial.
Instead of ignoring Link’s prodding, I decided to at least be friendly. “Bastien, did you want my beef?”
The olive branch was small, but it was the first one I’d offered him since they’d returned more than a week ago. Bastien nodded and held out his bowl to me, inching closer so that when I leaned over to make sure I didn’t spill anything, he was able to brush his cheek to mine.
I’d been so careful not to touch him at all. I didn’t want the feelings to still be there, burning beneath my icy exterior. The simple scratch from his scruff on my soft and dirty skin made me freeze, indulging in the contact as if it were a guilty dessert. I didn’t have any business being so near him, and yet, here I was.
People could see us, our cheeks pressed together in hushed desire to finally be near the one we’d been sure we’d lost forever. His whisper tickled my ear with a gentle, “I love you, and I’m so sorry. Please, Rosie.”
My breathing hitched from the touch, coupled with the words he’d said to me no less than four times every day since they’d returned. There was something different about the simple plea today, and it drew me in, rather than reaffirming that the barrier around my heart needed barbed wire and angry guards to keep Bastien from invading again.
His piney scent that was dipped in a hint of cinnamon drew me in, and after everything, I still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. He was dirty from working beside me all day. He’d given me just enough space that I didn’t have to talk to him, but not so much that anyone could attack me again. It was strange, Bastien’s band of protection. I was never sure if I was safer with it or without.
I didn’t have the words to speak my heart, mostly because I didn’t quite understand the many conflicting emotions myself. Instead I dipped my head and spooned around for another chunk of meat in the thick broth, lifting it from my bowl and offering him the bite.
Bastien slid so close that our thighs were touching. I was keenly aware of every move, every breath, every spot on my body that was in contact with his. He opened his mouth and let me feed him, and for all the confusion between us, our silence held a perfect synchronicity that was too hard for us to deny it existed.
I was still angry that he’d cheated. I wasn’t sure what to do with that frustration, though. I wasn’t sure what to do, period. My lueur stayed tucked inside of him, drawing me closer, like a magnet I had no business resisting.
Emil hopped off of my shoulder and landed on Bastien’s, nuzzling his scruff with the top of his head, using it to preen his feathers. “No fair,” I complained. “He was my bird first.”
Bastien bumped his shoulder to mine so that Emil had twice the space to play around. “What’s this little guy’s name?”
“Emil. The flock sent him to watch me for the day.”
Bastien reached up to stroke the bird’s feathers, and then took a chance by brushing his knuckles to my cheek.
I felt the heat rise in my skin, burning where he touched me, so I had to act fast and spackle shtick in where too much vulnerability was exposed. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“I highly doubt that. You would’ve punched me if you knew what it did to me to touch your skin.”
I swallowed and relished the feel of his rough knuckle on my cheek. “You’re thinking Emil’s got stronger muscles than you, but your brains are the same size. You’re right on both counts.”
He didn’t fall for my diversion, but met my eyes with seriousness that couldn’t be batted away, even with the dumbest of jokes. There was an intensity that burned there, soaking me in with gentleness from a man who knew real loss. “I say we try harder to get it right this time.”
I was about to open my mouth and reply – with what, I don’t know.
“Let’s get out of here,” Bastien suggested.
“You’re still eating your stew.”
Bastien tipped the bowl to his lips and drained it in a few seconds. He wiped his mouth on his flannel sleeve and stood, taking my empty bowl and hoisting me up. I kept my voice low. “Um, I’m pretty sure people will notice if we leave together.”
Bastien took a chance and coiled his arm around my back, drawing me closer than a friendly distance. “I hope so. Like I said, we’ll get it right this time. We won’t be together behind closed doors while you’re fake engaged to my friend. This is what I should’ve done from the beginning.” He shook his head, ignoring the whispers that were spreading around us at our relationship-like body language. “You were right to throw me out, Ro. But I’m back now.” He leaned in and played the game like a cheater, whispering in my ear just to make me melt. “Take me back.”
It was a thing of luck we were interrupted, though I didn’t expect the culprit to be an unkindness of ravens soaring down and chirping in my face. The villagers had grown somewhat used to the animals talking to me, but a whole flock was a visual that made them all inch away or stumble back. “Hey, guys. What’d I miss?”
They were all talking at once, which, when you factor in that they spoke in a high-pitched birdy squawk, it made the whole thing totally confusing. All I got was “water” and “the mother”. Several started pecking at my canteen, flapping their wings as they tried to communicate… something.
Draper abandoned the woman he’d been chatting up and made a beeline to me, standing on the other side of the birds with his arms crossed over his shoulders. “What is it, Ro?”
I set down my bowl and held up my hands, motioning for the nearest one to perch on my wrist. “Okay, just one of you tell me what’s got you all in a tizzy.”
“The water! The water’s killing off our young! Something’s wrong with the water! Don’t drink it!”
I tugged my canteen off my belt and opened it, peering inside for a floating skull and crossbones or something. I sniffed it curiously. “I’ve been drinking it all day, and I don’t feel any different.”
“Poison! It’s been poisoned!”
It was then that something landed like a rock on the ground a few feet from me. I jumped, but the birds only hopped animatedly around the intrusion they’d apparently been expecting. I got down on all fours and crawled forward to examine the black mass that had fallen from the ravens circling overhead. My hand covered my mouth, stifling my unfiltered gasp.
“Don’t touch it, Rosie!” Draper craned his neck to gape up at the ravens circling above us.
I focused on the spokesbird who was now perched on my forearm. “When did this happen?”
“It’s been happening for four nights now, but we only just figured out th
e cause. Help us! We can’t live without water.”
I was careful not to touch the dead bird with my bare hands. “Link, do you have a handkerchief?”
“Aye, but it’s a wee bit manky.”
“That’s fine. We have to take this bird back to the castle and show Dad. He needs to see that the baby birds are dying.”
Would that I had kept the conversation with the bird to myself. The palpable fear started to rise all around me, rippling out from the spot where I stood in waves of gasps. “Nobody drink the water! The birds are dying from it!” Montel called out, spreading the word like wildfire. It was good that they would all stop drinking the water, but not so great that panic and shrieks started to fill the air.
13
Madness in Town Square
I wrapped the bird in Link’s green bandana and scrambled up the steps, trying to gain everyone’s attention, and failing miserably. Bastien shouted for them all to listen, but anxiety was running high now. With no better option, I turned and gave the overlarge gong a sidekick to rival Chuck Norris (actually, it was pretty sloppy, but in my mind, I was Avalon’s version of Chuck Norris for that brief second). That seemed to get enough of them to turn around so that I could take the floor. “Everyone, listen up. The birds are saying something’s wrong with the water, and it’s killing off their young. It’s been going on for four days, so we’ve all had some of the water by now.” I kicked the gong again like a ninja when audible sobs rose louder than I could talk. “Don’t panic. Birds have smaller bodies than us, so whatever’s hurting them will take a lot longer to hurt us. But for now, don’t drink the water. I’ll go run this little guy back to King Urien, and we’ll see what we can do.” I looked around at the tens of thousands of people, but knew that there were hundreds of thousands in our province. “I need the dudes who’ve been working on the wall to come up here for a special job. Quick, now! Everyone else, head home. Don’t freak out, but don’t drink the water, either. Just lay low tonight. When we figure this out, Dad, Draper or I will come back here to the Town Square to let you all know what’s what.”
Broken Girl: A Fantasy Adventure Based in French Folklore (Faite Falling Book 5) Page 8