by R. K. Hart
The second man to dismount had the same red hair as the first, and their profiles were so similar that Lida thought they must be brothers. Their skin was paler than Jakob’s, and their sleeveless tunics exposed strong arms that spoke of years of Brinnican warrior training.
James hurried to Jakob’s side and followed the same pattern of examination as his brother: face, torso, legs. Lida began to panic when he lingered long over Jakob’s hip.
‘Jed!’ James barked. A gangly Eilin boy close to Lida’s age dismounted, unfolding a white stretcher as he did so, his blonde hair silvered by starlight.
The last man slid smoothly from his white mare, brushing messy black curls out of his eyes, his face shadowed. ‘Mikal?’ he said anxiously.
The first Brinnican man answered. ‘His face is fine - the cut is deep, but it will heal with stitching. He has some internal bruising under his ribs, and he has cracked one, too - on the lower right side of his ribcage. His hip -’ Mikal’s breath hitched. ‘His hip is dislocated. I can feel the damage to the muscles and ligaments around the joint. The femur of the same leg is also broken, but cleanly, at least. We’ll need to put the hip back and re-set the bone. It will be painful and will take a long time to heal, even with our help.’
‘Frere,’ James said in a low voice, his hands on Jakob’s stomach.
‘What?’
‘His lung has collapsed.’
Mikal did not answer, but turned and fell to his knees opposite James, one of them on each side of Jakob’s still form. He lowered his hands to Jakob’s chest.
Lida felt the pull in the air again, and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. There was no change in Jakob she could see, but after a minute Mikal sighed in relief, reaching up to cup Jakob’s uninjured cheek.
‘I will kill you,’ he murmured under his breath, and carefully leaned to kiss Jakob softly on the brow.
‘We need to get him to Katrin,’ James said, standing. ‘Jed?’
The Eilin boy positioned the stretcher as Mikal moved to Jakob’s shoulders, and James his feet. Without speaking, they moved as one, lifting Jakob a few inches, then gently settling him back down. Jakob groaned; sweat shone at his temples.
‘Jed,’ said James. ‘You’re with me.’
Mikal stepped back, and together James and Jed lifted the stretcher and began the trek back to the Illarum. Their horses, clearly well trained, followed them sedately. Lida watched them until all she could see were shadows in the night.
‘Are you hurt?’
It took Lida a moment to realise that Mikal was talking to her. ‘My shoulder,’ she said shortly. ‘And my face.’ She paused. ‘I’m very tired.’
Mikal gently touched her cheek, then probed at her shoulder, frowning as she shivered. ‘The cut will heal,’ he said at last, ‘but we need to look at your shoulder. Come. We’ll get you inside and give you something for the pain. Lorcan,’ he said to the black-haired man. ‘You lead.’
Mikal helped Lida onto Sacred, then swung himself up behind her to ensure she did not fall. It was lucky he did; for a moment, she held herself very straight, then collapsed forward without warning, all the panic and adrenaline leeching from her body in an instant, leaving her drained and exhausted. Mikal caught her in time, trapping her in the circle of his arms, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder, and she slipped in and out of awareness as Sacred took them through the towering iron gates and towards the white stone building that glowed in the light of the stars.
Chapter Four: Brothers
Shadows holding lanterns ushered them closer to the Illarum’s double redwood doors. Lida could not focus; her skin tingled and sweat broke out on her brow, trickling down her neck and back. The illuminated eyes of the white stone building stared down at her, very seriously, she thought; they seemed to be looking into her soul and she worried that they would find her lacking. Her head lolled to the side as Mikal tried to hold her up. Through her half-closed eyes she saw a flash of lightning on the horizon, though the sky overhead was very clear.
Lida lost consciousness. When she came back to herself, a pair of dark eyes flashed in front of her. She could not read their expression, but a deep, smooth voice asked a question, the words tinged with gold. She might have answered. Unnaturally hot hands grasped her waist gently, burning through her shirt; she cried out, shivering. Her body was cradled in someone’s arms, but everything felt very far away. She tried to raise her arm to check that the body still belonged to her and stared, fascinated, at the lines of light running through her veins, glowing softly under her skin. There was a change in temperature as she was carried into an empty red space, echoing with hurried footsteps; she blinked at the metal web above her, holding up the starry sky. There was the coolness of a white room with a white bed; Lida was lain down with care and a cup of something bitter and foul-smelling was held to her lips.
She drank and fell into nothingness.
***
Mikal and Lorcan stood by the infirmary bed. Neither spoke; they did not know what to say.
Katrin slipped into the room behind them. ‘She is asleep?’ she murmured in Brinnican.
Mikal cleared his throat, watching the illae in the room play around the girl, feeling the pull of power on his skin. ‘She is not awake,’ he said.
***
Lida came back to herself.
There was whiteness all around her and she thought that she must have been dreaming, for she drew up her knees and floated as if she was a cloud. The white stretched all around her, unbroken, but her gaze was caught by a glitter of gold and she watched, entranced, as lines emerged beneath her like tiny roads, the ends of each one snaking to disappear into the white. As she reached down to touch one, she found herself back in blackness and she cried out.
A fae took her hand and stroked her cheek. She was too lovely to be real, with golden eyes and a soft glow under her skin and hair that fell across her brow and down her back in a sheen of black silk. She murmured to Lida, holding a cup to her lips, and Lida drank because she did not dare do otherwise.
She knew she fell into sleep then, because she found herself in her rock pool. She was too tired to move, so she lay suspended underneath the water, staring up at the surface, watching the light change. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, but in the dream the light grew brighter and disappeared twice before she felt that she could twist her body through the water and dive deep to search for shells.
When she opened her eyes, the fae was asleep in a chair next to the white bed. Her head had fallen forward and her hair masked her face. For one terrifying moment, Lida wondered if she was dead and the fae queen had come to claim her soul, trapping her forever in the underground seelie kingdom.
The needs of her body belied her death; she could see a tiny bathroom opposite the bed, and she slipped from the covers as quietly as she could and padded across the room to use it. She washed her hands and stumbled back, exhausted at the exertion, her shoulder sending bolts of pain into her arm and chest at every step.
She dreamed properly, then. She dreamed so many dreams that when she woke she could not discern one from the other, the stories merging in an unsettling mess of nonsensical narrative. She could remember only two of the multitude; in the first, she ran barefoot over a cool marble floor with a small, black-haired girl, giggling. Their pursuant caught them eventually, enveloping Lida’s companion in a fierce hug, kissing her cheeks and murmuring endearments. Her unknown friend buried her face in her caramel-haired mother’s neck and laughed, alight with happiness.
In the second, Lida walked across a grassland, skimming her hands over the stalks of a waist-high grain crop and looking out to an unsettled sea. A storm was coming across the ocean and she lifted her chin to the breeze, a quiet euphoria growing within her as the black clouds raced closer, laced with lightning. It looked like a dangerous storm, but she felt no fear.
When she opened her eyes, exhausted and ravenous and cross, her head and shoulder pounding, the fae woman was gone. Li
da swung her legs over the side of the bed and drained the glass of water on the bedside table, wincing at the pain shooting through her left side. Pushing her hair from her face, she looked around the room.
There was nothing in it but the bed, the bedside table, and a single chair; the walls were whitewashed and completely bare. The bathroom opposite had more colour, its floor tiled in sapphire blue. There was a tiny window near the foot of the bed, with thick white curtains through which shone a filtered morning light.
With difficulty, Lida stood and made her way to the window, pulling back the curtains to see what looked like a stable block across a sandy avenue. In the distance were green meadows and a tantalising sliver of what must have been the Southern Sea. She could see people moving around, and registering that someone had removed her shirt, leaving her in only her breastband and jodhpurs, she closed the curtains again.
‘You should not be up yet.’
Mikal had pushed open the door without knocking and placed a tray heaped with food on the bedside table, a mug in one hand.
Lida put her own hand to her brow; the room was spinning, so she sat on the foot of the bed and watched him prepare the hot drink. He sprinkled powder into the steaming water. ‘What’s that?’
‘Willowbark and clove. You’ve been on valerian root up until now, but I think it’s time for you to wake back up. That doesn’t mean being out of bed, though,’ he warned, raising an eyebrow.
Lida studied him warily. He wasn’t exactly handsome, but his face was compelling, with deep blue eyes and the high, wide cheekbones common to northerners. He had smile lines around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes, adding warmth even to his present serious expression. His chin and cheeks were covered in short stubble, brighter red than his hair, which was braided neatly into a warrior’s tail, and his eyelashes and brows were almost golden in the morning light.
‘Valerian? You gave me something to make me sleep? Why?’
‘We had to heal your shoulder. You’d fractured it, quite badly. Katrin decided we would heal the bone, but the ligaments around the joint are still injured. You’ll need to be careful with it for five or so weeks.’
Mikal didn’t mention that Katrin’s decision had been partly strategic: the Myrae girl would be less likely to leave if she still needed care. Tiernan had asked him - well, Tiernan didn’t ask so much as instruct - to find out whatever he could, but not dig so deep as to scare her. He stirred the willowbark into the water, studying her from the corner of his eye.
‘Where am I?’
‘In the infirmary at the Illarum. Do you remember what happened?’
She nodded. ‘Jakob was hurt. You found us.’ She rubbed lightly at her shoulder, wincing. ‘Is he all right?’
Mikal set the spoon down with a snap. ‘He’s been better,’ he said shortly, then took a steadying breath. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of Jakob sprawled on the sand, his face bound in strips of the girl’s filthy shirt, his leg at an angle that had stopped Mikal’s heart for a moment. ‘He still hasn’t woken up. We re-set his hip two days ago, and even that didn’t stir him.’
‘Two days?’ she repeated. ‘How long have I been asleep?’
‘Four days.’
She bunched the blanket beneath her in her good hand. ‘Four days,’ she said flatly. ‘That’s a long time to take over one fractured shoulder.’
Mikal sighed and sat next to her, offering the mug. She took it but sniffed suspiciously before she sipped, checking that the strong scent of valerian was absent. Mikal narrowed his eyes. Not everyone knew what valerian smelled like.
‘You had illae-sickness,’ he said. ‘Your body was shutting down. It’s why Jakob is still unconscious.’
‘What’s illae-sickness?’
For a moment, Mikal thought she was joking. He frowned. ‘It’s when you draw too much too quickly, and take energy from your own body.’
‘Draw too much of what?’
He stared at her for a long moment, then rubbed his temples.
‘Perhaps if you started from the beginning?’
The deep, smooth voice came from the doorway, and Mikal looked up, frowning. Lorcan was standing with careful nonchalance, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on the Myrae girl. At least he looked slightly less wild than usual, Mikal thought: he’d braided back his curly mop of hair and he was wearing the steel-grey tunic that marked him as Tiernan’s apprentice, though he’d foregone shoes, and there was a tenseness in the lines of his shoulders and in his jaw that made it seem as though he would spring forward at any moment. Mikal glared; he’d told Lorcan firmly not to come, and as usual, the Erbidan had nodded solemnly and completely disregarded the instruction.
‘How did you meet Jakob?’ Lorcan went on. ‘How did he come to be injured?’
The Myrae girl scowled and drew her knees up under her chin, covering her bare stomach. Mikal didn’t blame her. Lorcan unsettled people at the best of times, with the sharp edge to the air that followed wherever he went, and he’d drawn himself up to his considerable full height, a cold challenge written all over his face. Mikal could see the girl shiver, but she lifted her chin and glared straight back, taking in the raven-black hair, the golden skin, the lines of his jaw. Her eyes lingered on his lips - they were different to Jakob’s, a bow-shape rather than Jak’s elegant fullness - and her brow creased in confusion for a moment before it cleared.
‘You’re Jakob’s brother,’ she said.
Lorcan raised a straight black eyebrow. ‘Indeed,’ he said coolly. ‘If you know who I am, perhaps you could honour us with your name in return?’
Mikal watched her jaw tense; for a moment, he thought she was would refuse, then he realised that she was biting the inside of her cheek as she considered what to do. Her eyes fell to the silver cuff on Lorcan’s wrist.
‘Alida d’Cathan,’ she said at last.
Lorcan frowned. ‘d’Cathan? The Myrae take their mother’s names.’
‘I’m Eilin, not Myrae,’ she snapped, ‘and my mother is dead.’
Mikal shot Lorcan a warning look, then reached out to take her hand; he thought better of it before he touched her, and dropped his arm to the side instead. ‘Alida,’ he said, as calmly as he could manage, ‘we are happy to meet you. Can you tell us how you met Jakob?’
She took a shuddering breath, steeling herself. Mikal watched her good hand bunch in the blanket again before she answered. ‘I saw him at the summer market in Kingstown. He … he didn’t tell me who he was, he just grabbed my wrist and demanded to know my name, and I was scared and … well … I ran from him.
‘Then later that night, he knocked on our door, and he said that Delia sent him, but he would have found me anyway, that he felt … he said that I was gifted. That I should be tested. My father gave me permission and I left …’ Her breath caught for a moment. ‘We left. We crossed the Little Lifeblood, and he … he did something. He pulled.’ Mikal heard her worry about the way she’d described it, but he thought it was apt; Jakob called it almost the same thing. She shook her head and hugged her knees closer. ‘It was terrifying. When we stopped … we were here. The cut on his cheek was from the ride, I think, but the hip … he fell from the gelding, and I think it happened then.
‘I didn’t know what to do. So I screamed and … well, you came,’ she finished.
She ‘screamed’? Lorcan illae-called to Mikal. That was no scream. She -
I know, Mikal answered.
‘Delia d’Artur?’ Lorcan said aloud.
She nodded.
‘And he pulled you all the way from the Little Lifeblood?’
Her lips twisted. ‘Yes.’
Lorcan fixed his eyes on Mikal. ‘I am going to kill him.’
‘Only if you get to him first,’ Mikal said lightly.
She shook her head; Mikal wasn’t sure whether it was in disagreement or censure. ‘He said … he wanted to get back quickly. He was in a hurry.’
Lorcan went s
till. ‘Did he say why?’
‘No.’ Lida shivered.
Mikal nodded. ‘Enough,’ he said. He gestured to her shoulder. ‘I have to bind that now you’re awake.’ He glanced at Lorcan. ‘Tell Tiernan that she needs at least two more days. Two full days, Lor. After today. At least. I’ll reassess then.’
Lida frowned. ‘Two more days for what?’
Mikal pressed at her shoulder. ‘Until you can be tested.’
She winced. ‘Why can’t I do it now?’
‘Because you’d collapse before you made it half way down the hall. There is no rush. Sit straight.’
He bit back a smile at the answering mental tirade, though she sat quiescent as Mikal bound her arm and shoulder, strapping the limb across her body. He gave a satisfied nod once he was done and rose. ‘Good. I’ll come back at dinner.’
‘What?’ she said, panicked. ‘What do I do until then?’
‘Eat.’ Mikal gestured to the tray. ‘Your body needs it. Then rest. Sleep if you can. Repeat. If you finish all of the food, I’ll bring you a book later.’
She gave him a withering glare, but Mikal was a healer, and used to far worse; he merely grinned and brushed past Lorcan into the hallway. Lorcan gave the girl another frown and followed.
‘You ass,’ Mikal said in Brinnican, as soon as the door clicked closed. ‘Must you be so unpleasant?’
‘Were you expecting something different?’
‘You don’t actually think she did that to Jak. She’s half the size of him.’
‘No. Not any more.’
‘You didn’t try to read her, did you? Lor. You know Tiernan told us to wait.’
‘She thinks very loudly,’ Lorcan said, not quite answering the question.
‘Gods save me,’ Mikal muttered.
‘You do not need them to. I could not get through her mindshield.’