Hush, the woods are darker still

by L. V Russell

  I placed my empty glass back onto the table, Niven never took her eyes off me, eyes darting across the bruises on my arms and the dirt that caked my ruined clothes.

  “If you knew we were here, why didn’t you send help?” I asked, folding my arms back on myself, hiding the marks, crushing down the memory of heavy paws on my skin. “Did you make us wander the woods just for the fun of tormenting us?”

  “Yes,” Niven purred.

  “I was nearly raped.” I choked on the words.

  Cold eyes met mine; a lazy lift of her head sent her long, long hair rippling down over her body. “But you weren’t.”

  “I could have lost Laphaniel again. Niven, I still could.”

  “I don’t care, Teya.”

  “Why?”

  She paused, her shoulder lifting into a slight shrug. “I think that perhaps, I was born wrong.”

  “No one is born evil.”

  “Do you think I am evil?”

  “I think only time will reveal what you really are.”

  She said nothing as she reached for a cigarette, holding it over the candlelight until it glowed, though I had no doubts she could ignite it with her fingers if she had wanted to. How she controlled the shadows, I had no idea…why they obeyed her, I couldn’t begin to fathom. She offered me one before sucking the tip of hers when I declined.

  “Shall we get on so you can run back to your lover?” Niven crossed her legs, the ebony shadows of her dress caressing her skin. “Phabian has set some terms which you must abide by if you want our assistance.”

  “What is it you want from us?” I asked, trying not to breathe in the cloying smoke that rose around Niven.

  “You do not ask for our help again,” she said, puffing out a perfect circle. “You are not welcome here.”

  “You have made that abundantly clear.”

  “We take the Northern edge of the Broken Woods as our own—that is where the new Unseelie boundaries will begin.”

  “I’ve never heard of those woods…”

  “They belong to us now,” Niven snapped, and I didn’t bother to argue, hoping the Seelie wouldn’t miss a few trees. “Any Seelie fey found upon our lands will be executed without mercy.”

  I blinked. “We stay on our lands, and you stay on yours.”

  Niven nodded, apparently satisfied.

  “Is that everything?” I said, wondering why our conversation couldn’t have waited until Laphaniel had healed.

  “Those are our conditions, Teya. Agree to them, and Phabian will give you enough aid to destroy Luthien.”

  “I agree to the terms,” I said, standing up to leave, eager to get far away from my sister and back to Laphaniel’s side where I belonged. “Goodnight, Niven.”

  Her dark laugh had me stopping before I had taken a step, my heart sinking. “We can’t just take your word.”

  With an elegant flick, she threw a piece of paper onto the table between us, and I grabbed it quickly, sliding off the ribbon, holding it together.

  “A contract?”

  “Legally binding.” Niven smiled, tilting her head up to blow smoke into the air. “Sign it, then you can go.”

  “I’m not signing this until Laphaniel has read it.”

  Niven stood, swirls of shadows creeping past the skirts of her gown, shifting into dogs that strained at her feet. “You will, or you both leave this castle tonight, where my monsters will carve you up before Luthien does.”

  “I have done nothing to you,” I implored her. “Nothing. Nothing I have not atoned for a thousand times over.”

  The dogs snarled at her feet, tails tucked low as they stuck to her side, their legs fading in and out of shadows as they fought to stay corporal. I wouldn’t back away, my gaze fixed on Niven and not her hounds, though I may as well have been staring into an abyss.

  Unfurling the papers in my hand, I read the neat script, not for a moment doubting Niven would throw us out if I refused to sign.

  There was a space left at the bottom for my signature, and I accepted the quill Niven handed me. “There’s no ink.”

  Niven handed me a knife, her arched brows lifting as she smiled at me. It didn’t surprise me that I would have to sign using my blood. Pricking my finger with the blade, I dipped the quill into the blood that swelled up. I glanced at Niven, but her expression gave nothing away. She just sat back and watched.

  When I finished, I handed her the papers, unable to shake the feeling I had just handed over my soul.

  “Can I go now?”

  “Yes,” Niven said, the dogs surrounding her feet fading back into simple shadows. “Go play nursemaid.”

  My hand grasped around the door handle as I made to leave, but I hesitated, turning to meet my sister’s glare.

  “What?”

  “Did you enjoy it?” I asked. “When you slid that knife into Laphaniel’s chest, did you enjoy it?”

  She lifted her head, a predatory glint in her lovely eyes. “Yes.”

  My blood chilled at that word, at the way it slid from her lips like a caress. There was something otherworldly about Niven, almost like she was born for the shadows and had finally found her way home.

  If Arabelle had foreseen Laphaniel tearing the world to pieces, I couldn’t help but wonder what Niven could do to it if given the chance.

  I let the door close behind me before I ran, finding my way through the twisting corridors to the winding steps that led back down to Charlotte’s lair. My feet skidded on the steps, and I slipped, my arm yanking back as I grabbed at the stone to stop myself from plunging to the bottom. I took a breath and got up, knowing it would help no one if I ended up with a broken neck.

  “You said he wouldn’t wake up,” I snapped, causing Charlotte to lift her head towards me, breaking off whatever she was whispering to Laphaniel.

  “I did not say he wouldn’t wake, I said he would not miss you,” she replied, rising from the bed, taking a wooden bowl away with her. There was a sourness to the room that mingled with the damp. It hadn’t been there when I left.

  “Is he okay?” I ran closer, avoiding the red stain upon the stone, the only visible remains of Nigit. I took Laphaniel’s hand, squeezing his fingers. “Are you okay?”

  A neat row of stitches glistened against his pale shoulder, thick bandages snaked around his middle, as if holding him together. I brushed my hand over his face, and his eyes flickered open, glassy and unfocused. He blinked and reached for the drip in his hand, giving it a sharp tug before I caught him.

  “No,” I said softly. “Leave that. Do you know where you are?”

  Laphaniel continued to look through me, but he shook his head slowly, his eyes closing again as I sat by, helpless.

  “I managed to cut out the bad flesh,” Charlotte began as my head started to swim. “But the infection has got into the blood.”

  I sat beside him, taking a cloth to wipe over his mouth. “What can I do?”

  “Stay by him, talk to him.”

  I wound my fingers through Laphaniel’s and held tight, resting my head gently against his heart, desperately needing to hear it sing to me.

  “Am I going to lose him?” Fear coursed through me like poison. I couldn’t let him die down in the dark…not so close to everything he feared.

  Charlotte reached for me, and I allowed her to fold me against her side. I could smell the cobwebs on her.

  “Not yet, little one,” she breathed, three of her hands running over my back, while the fourth brushed against my face.

  Charlotte withdrew slowly, leaving me to curl back beside Laphaniel. He stirred, pushing away from me. The sheets beneath him were damp.

  “You left,” he mumbled, beads of sweat trickled down his face.

  “Shh, I’m right here.” I shifted onto the stool to give him more room. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You left,” he repeated. “You were in the water.”

  “I’m here, sweetheart.”

  “No…I found you in…in the water.” His word
s came out thick and clumsy. “Face down.”

  I wrung out the cloth and placed it over his forehead. High spots of colour stained his pale cheeks.

  “Laphaniel…”

  “You were in the lake.” He spoke over me, I didn’t even know if he was hearing me. “Your lips were blue…you had…you had pond weed around your… around your neck…and in your mouth.”

  “I’m right here,” I said, my voice hitching. I swallowed, my throat aching. “It’s a bad dream, that’s all.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t talk when I’m dreaming. You just stay dead.”

  “You saved me,” I breathed. “You weren’t too late. You saved me, Laphaniel.”

  “No.” He smacked my hand away. “You’re dead…I saw you, I pulled you out. Your eyes were open.” He broke on a sob. “I lost you.”

  I picked the cloth back up, laying it against his neck as a soft moan escaped his mouth, my other hand smoothing back his hair, my lips at his ear in a desperate attempt to drag him back from his nightmares.

  “You always talk in your sleep,” I began, my head resting against his. “And this is, all this is, a horrible fever dream.”

  “Do you know where Nefina is?”

  I took a deep breath at the sudden change of subject. “She’s with Oonagh, Sweetheart.”

  “Did you know she hates me?”

  I had seen the way Nefina looked at her brother, and there was longing behind those sorrowful eyes, also resentment, and yes, hurt. Not hate.

  “I tried…” he mumbled slowly. “I did…I just didn’t know how to look after her…I tried. I didn’t mean for it…for it to end up like it did.”

  “I know,” I replied, placing a finger to his lips. “Shush, try to be quiet now. You’re not making much sense.”

  “I want Teya,” he murmured, twisting against the covers. “Please.”

  “I’m here, close your eyes.”

  “The Spider came,” he whispered, fingers curling around my wrist. “She came out of the dark and cut my legs off.”

  “No.” I brought his hand down to his left leg as he grew more agitated. “Can you feel that?”

  He shook his head again, and I had to hold him down as he made to get off the bed. I had no idea where he thought he was going if he believed he had no lower limbs.

  “Can you go and get her?”

  “Who?”

  “Teya…she’s in the lake…” His hand tightened on my wrist, not enough to hurt, he wasn’t strong enough.

  “Charlotte,” I called, desperate. “Do something, please?”

  She was at my side before I could blink, a hand running over Laphaniel’s face, before settling on his chest. He swiped her hand away.

  “Your hands are cold!” he snarled. “And there’s too many of them.”

  “I’m needing them all to deal with you, though, aren’t I?”

  He looked at her with faraway eyes, all traces of fear ebbed away by whatever she was drip-feeding him. “You smell like rain and blood.”

  “And you of sweat and vomit. The blood you can smell is your own. Now I’m going to give you something to help you sleep.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, because you’re upsetting everyone,” Charlotte answered, drawing up a greenish liquid from a vial with her clawed hands. “Hush now.”

  I rested my head against the bed as Laphaniel drifted into an uneasy sleep, tensing slightly when Charlotte curled a hand over my shoulder. The chill of her fingers bit through the fabric of my clothes.

  “May I take a look at you?”

  I didn’t let go of Laphaniel. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you are not,” she said, her hold on me tightening as she coaxed me away. “Just look at what trying to be strong for too long does to someone.”

  The Spider stood and waited, one hand outstretched to me. I stood reluctantly, laying Laphaniel’s hand down upon his chest. For a moment, I just watched him breathing.

  “You will be two feet away from his bed, little one,” Charlotte began, “I can hear his heartbeat from the far end of this room, likely further if I needed to. Let him sleep.”

  “I really am fine,” I said but didn’t argue further.

  The spider had me sit beside her desk, she pulled up the sleeves of my hoodie before I could stop her. “Do you want to talk about the bruises on your arms?”

  I really didn’t.

  “There are fingerprints on your skin.” She inclined her head to Laphaniel, eyes flashing. “They do not belong to him.”

  Not a question. I looked away.

  “Who gave you these?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I snapped, moving my hands to cover myself as the memory of filthy paws forced its way back into my head. “It’s nothing. They were all killed by the Unseelie knights before they could…they ripped my clothes, that’s all.”

  “Those marks on you say otherwise,” Charlotte said, tilting her head. “As do your eyes.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said firmly, struggling with the unwanted memories, the feeling of having no control of what was happening, the look in Laphaniel’s eyes while they made him watch. “It’s done now, I’ll file it away with the other awful things that I’ve been through.”

  She gestured to the mark on my arm, where Laphaniel had bitten me, the skin around it already bruised. “Let me at least bind that up; the last thing we need is for it to get infected.”

  I nodded and outstretched my arm for her quick fingers.

  “You have seen more horrors than your young years deserve,” Charlotte said, applying a cold salve to the bite before wrapping it.

  “And yet here I am.”

  With a sigh, Charlotte turned to her desk, moving stacks of yellowing pages to make way for a teapot. She stirred in a handful of herbs and placed the pot onto a flame, waiting for it to boil.

  “This is a dangerous game you are both playing. Phabian is a twisted little boy who likes to break things. He will try to break you too.”

  I took the cup she offered me, the honey Charlotte slipped in only just covered the bitterness.

  “I’m not stupid enough to trust him, only desperate enough to accept his help. We have nowhere else to go.”

  Charlotte brought her cup to her lips, her other two hands busy grinding up dried organs for her little jars. “I fear for you, little one.”

  “Why? You don’t even know me. You don’t know Laphaniel.”

  The monster that all other monsters feared smiled at me, baring teeth. “I have always been fond of dreamers. Of those who cling to hope, even in hopeless places.”

  I warmed my hands against the cup. “Thank you for not eating us.”

  “It is nice to have company,” Charlotte said, dropping tiny mice eyes into a bubbling liquid. “I seldom receive company that I am not to tear apart.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  She didn’t look up. “Oh, I do. Very much so.”

  I finished my drink, wishing I hadn’t asked.

  “Would you label those jars for me?” Charlotte gestured to the vials she was slowly filling. “Keep your hands busy. It will do no good to stand over his bed and worry.”

  I did as I was told, picking up a quill from a stack on her table. I wrote out the tags while Charlotte worked, only speaking up to question what the vials contained, not wanting to ask what she used them for and if she was giving any to Laphaniel.

  As the night passed, Charlotte showed me how to set things over the flame to bubble just right, which herbs to add, and how much, what would heal, and what would poison. I helped her pickle tiny-winged creatures I had no name for, and when I plucked up the courage to ask what she used them for, she just smiled and wouldn’t tell. I didn’t dare ask again.

  Charlotte held up a bottle of silver liquid to the candlelight and frowned. “What does this smell like to you?”

  She placed the vial under my nose as I breathed in, my head suddenly spinning as the scent filled my nose. “What is that? I
t smells sharp and really cold, like snow, but there’s something else there, like burning wood and lavender.”

  “I thought so,” Charlotte sighed, tossing the bottle away. “Too much Wintersbreath. In small enough doses, it is a wonderful healing herb, a powerful sedative. Though too much will bring death almost instantly.”

  “Were you going to give that to Laphaniel?”

  “That’s why I checked it first. Pass me the other bottle.” She took the little vial and lifted it to her nose, nodding. “Yes, much better.”

  My fingers twitched to knock the vial from her hands, instinct not quite willing to allow the Spider to feed her poisons to Laphaniel. Charlotte noticed, and her eyes narrowed.

  “It is hard, is it not?” she began, tipping the vial into the bottle above Laphaniel’s bed. “To have him here, with me?”

  “Better down here with you,” I answered honestly, watching Laphaniel closely as he shuddered, then sighed and went still. “Than anywhere near Niven.”

  Charlotte continued to fuss over Laphaniel, checking the dressings on his side, the neat row of stitches on his shoulder, her claws lightly following the raised scar over his heart. Her lip curled.

  “She did this?”

  “She did.”

  A soft snarl hissed through her teeth. “You are very unlike your sister.”

  “Thank you.”

  Charlotte looked up from Laphaniel, her clever fingers changing the bloodied bandages on his shoulder without glancing back down. “I trust you two are being sensible?”

  Heat bloomed at my cheeks at the implication. “We’ve been pretty careful.”

  She rolled her eyes at me, and I remembered back to the few times we had been careless…stupid. Too lost within a moment to think about anything but each other.

  “That is not good enough,” Charlotte said, shaking her head. “Female fey ovulate maybe once a year if they are fortunate, for many decades can pass by. To counter that, males are incredibly fertile, to increase the chance of conceiving on the rare occasion a female is ovulating.” She paused with a sigh. “It is only due to luck that you are not carrying his child.”

  “Oh.”

  “Have you any idea how dangerous it would be to have a child at this point in time?” Charlotte continued, anger chilling her voice. “If gods forbid, you had a daughter. What Luthien would do to another heir to her throne?”