Hush, the woods are darker still

by L. V Russell

  “You’ll make yourself sick,” Laphaniel warned. “Have more later.”

  “Oh, I will,” I said, taking Laphaniel’s hand and leading him back upstairs. “After we shower.”

  We stopped on the landing and found the bags of clothes Niven had mentioned. I handed him a small pile of clothes before finding something for myself to wear.

  “Come with me.”

  He smiled, the first real smile I had seen from him in too long. He followed me into the bathroom, as eager as I was to feel clean again.

  I switched on the shower and watched as the water cascaded into the bathtub, quickly filling the room with steam. The fabric of my clothes crunched as I peeled them from my body. I moved to Laphaniel, my hands taking over from his as I undid the buttons of his shirt, lingering over the scar on his chest. He leant forwards, his mouth against mine as he shrugged his arms out of his sleeves. He kissed me like he needed me to breathe, hungry and desperate, his hands coming up to tangle in my hair.

  Laphaniel broke the kiss first, his eyes bright as he lifted me under the wonderful heat of the water. He stepped in after me, sweeping the wet hair from my shoulder so he could kiss the skin just beneath my neck. I turned to face him, leaning my head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around me.

  I lathered up a sponge with minty shower gel and scrubbed my body before washing the dirt from Laphaniel. He closed his eyes as I ran bubbles over his face and down his neck. Dirt ran in rivers down his lean yet muscular body.

  Taking the sponge from me, he pressed a soapy kiss to my lips, and without a word, he lowered himself down in the tub, bringing me with him.

  The water lapped around our bodies, washing away blood and dirt and some of the bad memories. My head rested against Laphaniel, soap still clung to his chest, trailing bubbles down over the flat planes of his stomach. With a wet hand, he wiped away the tears that slipped down my cheeks, pulling me close when they refused to stop, and rocked me gently in his arms. We didn’t talk, we didn’t need to.

  There was nothing to be said out loud that would have meant more than having him hold onto me, his bare skin against mine as the steaming water rained over us.

  Reluctantly untangling myself from Laphaniel’s water slicked body, I turned the shower off before rummaging through the bathroom closet to find two towels. Laphaniel watched me, perching on the edge of the bathtub, his eyes following the droplets of water sliding over my skin. It had been a while since either of us hungered for anything but food.

  “I found these in the medicine cupboard, I thought they might help.” I passed the bottle of pills to him. “Mum took them when Niven disappeared too.”

  He rattled the bottle. “What are they?”

  “Prescription sleeping tablets…”

  “No.” He tossed the bottle back to me.

  “When was the last time you had more than a couple hours’ sleep?”

  “Probably before I met you,” he said dryly.

  “Very funny.”

  “I want to be able to wake up if I need to, Teya.”

  I sighed. “You can’t carry on like this, snatching moments of sleep when you can’t stay awake any longer.”

  I passed the bottle back to him. “We have a proper roof over our heads for the first time in weeks. There’s a warm bed.”

  “Just for tonight?”

  Nodding, I watched him tip a small handful of pills out, swallowing them with a gulp of water from the tap. He followed me into my old bedroom, resting back against the pillows. I lay with my head on his chest, the heavy duvet pulled right up to my chin.

  The clock on the wall announced it was just after ten-thirty in the morning. I hadn’t looked at a clock in ages. Time had lost all meaning to me, days, weeks, even years meant nothing in Faerie. When time didn’t leave a mark upon you, it was all too easy to ignore.

  “Do you think the Unseelie will help us?” I asked, threading my fingers through Laphaniel’s.

  “If it means they get what they want in the end,” he said, closing his eyes. “I wouldn’t trust them.”

  “It’s Niven I don’t trust.”

  “The Unseelie will either destroy your sister, or she’ll live long enough to rule it,” he said. “There is a spark that drew us to her…a darkness we hungered for. We just tried to force her into the wrong court.”

  “Is there darkness in me?”

  Laphaniel turned to face me and ran a hand over my cheek. “Not yet,” he replied.

  I closed my eyes and nestled against him, listening as Laphaniel’s breathing slowed down and deepened. I couldn’t help but wonder what lay ahead for us, what demons would be coming to shadow over my soul, what nightmares I would have to embrace just to be free to live. I wondered the price of it all.

  Sleep came fitfully at first, restless and filled with too many thoughts, but then my exhaustion took over and dragged me down into a merciful and dreamless black.

  Chapter Four

  I woke with no idea where I was, the feeling of being under warm covers so disorientating that for a moment, I thought I was back at Laphaniel’s house. Never again would I wake there, beneath the twisting branches of his bedroom where it rained blossom, a place where, despite everything, I had begun to fall in love with him.

  Laphaniel still slept beside me, sprawled out on his front with one leg hanging off the bed. His arms draped over the pillows, hugging them tight, and with every couple of breaths, he let out a soft snore. The fingers of his left hand twitched as he dreamed.

  Not wanting to wake him, I carefully slid out of bed and fumbled in the darkness to the landing, where I flicked on the light and wandered downstairs. Outside it was still black, the stars twinkling in the indigo sky, barely hinting at dawn.

  It was cold in the kitchen with a frost lingering at the windows, slowly dripping down the glass like melting tears. I filled the kettle and waited for it to boil, grabbing two mugs and heaping coffee and sugar into both. I popped some slightly dry bread into the toaster and rummaged in the fridge for a pot of raspberry jam.

  My head felt strangely heavy. Glancing up at the kitchen clock I discovered why, it had just gone half five in the morning and we had been sleeping for nearly nineteen hours.

  As I made the coffee and toast, I spotted an old map on the kitchen counter, folded back with a hastily drawn circle around a village in Cornwall. Niven had scribbled an arrow in black Sharpie and written “HERE” in capitals. She left no note, nothing else except the keys to Mum’s ancient Micra. It would take hours to drive down, and I just hoped the car was up to it.

  I took breakfast upstairs, resting the tray on the bedside table before I curled back against Laphaniel, still not having the heart to wake him. I watched while he slept, lost within some dream that caused him to mumble something against the pillows. Smiling, I ran my fingers over his back, stopping at the edge of the covers. I trailed my fingers up his spine, and he stirred, his body tensing. He moaned softly when I kissed his neck, his eyes flickering open.

  “Good morning.” I smiled.

  “Yes, it is,” he replied, voice still thick with sleep.

  “I have coffee and toast.”

  Laphaniel stretched and rolled onto his back, taking his time before propping himself up against the pillows. I passed him a steaming mug, then nestled in his arms with my coffee warming my hands.

  “Wouldn’t it be wonderful, just to stay like this?” I tilted my head back, catching the look that flickered in his eyes, before realising that it was exactly what he had once offered me: warmth, happiness, and eternal love.

  “One day,” he began, “you will lie on a bed of silks wearing nothing but that devilish smile of yours. The world will be ours, and nothing and no one will ever be able to take it away.”

  “Am I always naked in your imagination?” I said, my face warming. The black of his eyes had begun to lift away, replaced by a sleepy violet. “Because if by some miracle, we get through this and we defeat Luthien, I will be ruling with my cloth
es on.”

  “Disappointing.”

  I elbowed him with a chuckle, “Just eat your breakfast.”

  “You’re blushing,” he said, brushing his long fingers against my face. “Your cheeks have gone all pink.”

  I tried to look away, but Laphaniel refused to drop his hand.

  “What is it?”

  The doubts and niggles prickled at me as a little voice resurfaced and whispered that I wasn’t good enough. Not special enough, too broken, too weak…too human.

  “Why me?”

  “Why you, what?” he asked, genuine confusion sweeping across his face.

  “What made you fall in love with me?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, his fingers softly brushing down my cheek to the edge of my lips. “Does it matter? I wanted to keep you because I was bored and lonely, I didn’t want you because I fell instantly in love with you, and you know that. I love you because my soul sings out for yours, and because I need you. More than I have needed anyone. I don’t know which part of you I fell in love with first, but I do know I love you, wholly, completely and desperately.”

  “You think I’m your soulmate?” I asked, the word falling from my mouth both wonderful and strange.

  “If that’s what you want to call it.”

  I blinked, unable to find words to question him…but he spoke so plainly, so honestly, how could I? His words settled over me, solid and comforting, sounding like home.

  Laphaniel reached for a piece of toast, as I drank the last of my coffee, swirling the dregs around in the mug. We lay in comfortable silence as we finished breakfast, quietly enjoying each other’s company within the chaos we had been swept up in.

  It was still dark outside when we left, the chill of the early morning biting through my gloves as I scraped the thin layer of frost from the car window. It crept through the cheap coat I had found in the cupboard, the smooth black fabric crinkling with every move I made. There had been no coat for Laphaniel, only an oversized grey hoodie with holes in the sleeves.

  I tossed a bag of supplies into the back seat while Laphaniel stood back, eyeing the car as if it would turn around and bite him.

  “Are you going to be okay?” I asked, noting the rust around the car door, worried that I was making him climb into an iron box with wheels.

  “How long until we reach the cottage?” he asked, still looking wary.

  “A few hours, longer if I get lost.”

  He forced a smile, hiding his hands in the pockets of his borrowed black jeans so I couldn’t see him fidget. “Try not to get lost.”

  Laphaniel took a breath and climbed in beside me. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile before starting the car, stalling it instantly. “I’m sure it’s like riding a bike…”

  I never knew someone could put their seat belt on so quickly.

  The car jolted and shuddered as I struggled with the gears, the petrol gauge tilting very close to empty.

  “Do you know how to drive?”

  “It’s been a while,” I admitted, easing out of the driveway.

  I pulled up to the nearest garage, paying for the petrol, bottled water and snacks with the fifty pounds I had found whilst snooping around Niven’s room. I also purchased a road map after leaving the old one on the kitchen top.

  “Turn left at the end of this road,” Laphaniel said as we got going again, the map perched on his lap. “Your other left, Teya.”

  He had the window down, blasting the car with freezing air. I was thankful for the hat and coat I had found in the bag of unwanted clothes. Laphaniel caught my eye and smiled before pointing back to the road.

  “Look ahead, you’re making me nervous.”

  “I’m just checking you’re okay.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” he said. “Just look where you are going.”

  “My driving is not that bad.”

  The roads were fairly clear, as few people were out so early in the morning, and for that, I was incredibly grateful. We wound around country lanes, glimpsing the sea over the cliff edge as the first rays of wintry sun broke through the miserable clouds.

  My hands on the steering wheel were freezing, and I had to search for the road signs as an hour into our journey, Laphaniel had dropped the map and slumped in his seat.

  “We’re over halfway there,” I said. He only nodded, sitting up and fumbling for the water I had brought and took a small sip before wincing. “Do you need a break? We can stop somewhere if you want.”

  He shook his head, a low moan escaping his lips. “I won’t get back in again.”

  “You don’t look good,” I said, worried.

  “Thanks,” Laphaniel muttered and closed his eyes.

  I hummed along to a song on the radio, earning a tired smile from Laphaniel. “Join in if you want to.”

  “You’re doing a fine job on your own,” he replied quietly.

  I laughed, shaking my head as the song changed to something I didn’t know. “At least our lives never depended on my singing skills.”

  Laphaniel shifted in his seat. “To which I am eternally grateful.”

  “Do you want me to shut up?”

  “No,” he breathed, keeping his eyes closed. “It’s oddly endearing.”

  I continued to hum as I drove, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, glancing at the road signs to ensure we were headed in the right direction.

  The roads remained empty, the passing landscape stark and bleak. The radio played on, song after song, passing the time and filling the quiet. Laphaniel didn’t speak again, his head rested on his chest, his skin grey.

  Lights flickered on the dashboard, a flash of colour that was gone in a blink. It happened again just as quick, everything lighting up like Christmas before going dark. The overhead light clicked on, buzzing incessantly until the bulb blew.

  “Laphaniel?”

  He didn’t answer.

  My headlights brightened, flooding the still dark roads with white light. I pressed my foot to the brake. Nothing happened.

  “Laphaniel, wake up!”

  Hectic Glamour sparked around the car uncontrolled. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, the car jolting as I caught the edge of the road.

  Glass shattered over the tarmac as the headlights blew. I hit ice and skidded, spinning the car.

  Again, I tried the brakes, stomping down hard. We left the road.

  The car tore through bushes and dirt, breaking through winter brittle trees, and I couldn’t stop it.

  But the ditch did.

  I slammed against the seatbelt, instinctively reaching for Laphaniel, but he was already clambering out of the car.

  With shaking hands, I unbuckled myself and forced the door open, rushing to his side as he retched.

  He wiped at his mouth, his words little more than gasps. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine—” I began, moving my hand to his back when he bent double and was violently sick. “You’re not. What happened?”

  I didn’t expect him to answer, and he didn’t… couldn’t.

  “I’m going to grab you some water,” I said, “I’ll be right back.”

  I ran to the wrecked Micra, knowing we were both lucky to walk away from it. The bonnet was a mess, smoke curling up from within, and I quickly turned off the ignition. One of the wheels had popped too.

  Careful of the pieces of glass littered over the back seats, I grabbed the bag of supplies and made my way back to Laphaniel. He sat on the frosty grass, head bent forwards, taking in deep breaths of fresh air.

  “Here, take this.” I passed him a bottle of water, and he rinsed his mouth out. “Is that better?”

  He shook his head.

  I winced for him. “Are you going to throw up again?”

  A nod.

  “Why didn’t you tell me to stop the car?” I asked gently, my hand making little circles over his back while he continued to lose his breakfast over the grass. “I would have stopped.”

  Laphaniel sat
back with a groan, draining half the water. “I was going to…I…I left it too late…”

  “Did you know you would react like that?”

  “No.”

  I had seen first-hand how iron affected him, how quickly it poisoned his body. We were both foolish to believe a car would be any different.

  I swept the damp hair away from his face, one hand still trailing over his back. “We’re going to have to walk the rest of the way, you blew all the electrics in the car. And it’s currently stuck in a ditch.”

  Laphaniel finished the bottle of water, taking another deep breath. Colour began to seep back into his face. His voice sounded much steadier as he asked, “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  “I’m going to have some colourful bruises, but I’m fine.” He didn’t look convinced. “I’m okay, Laphaniel, I promise. I’m worried about you though.”

  He rested his head on his knees, his voice muffled. “How far did we get?”

  “We made it to Cornwall,” I said, “It’s a few miles walk to the cottage— we got pretty close. Do you want to stop a bit longer?”

  “No,” he answered, pushing himself to his feet. “I’m feeling a lot better already.”

  We found a coastal path not far from where we had crashed. It wound down over wild hills, its steps slick with the drizzle misting above us. It led us through a little copse of trees not far from the beach, then onto a gravel path with a rundown cottage at its end.

  Laphaniel tugged at my hand as I made to step inside, leading me instead over the front lawn to the fence at the side of the house. He rested his arms on the wood, and I followed his gaze out over the endless dark sea. The waves churned as they crashed against the rocks, sending white spray high into the air. Dappled sunlight crept through cracks in the grey sky, catching the rain drops as they fell, setting them alight.

  “I’ve always loved Cornwall,” I said, leaning my head against his shoulder. “We used to stay at this old caravan park when we were little, which Niven hated of course. I fell in love with the utter wildness of it.” I smiled wistfully. “It reminds me of Faerie.”