15. Wounded Darling
Ibarely strangled my own cry of horror as the blade punched into Corvin.
No.
Corvin gave one strangled cry, his voice guttural. All the air had been driven from his lungs.
No, no, no!
Lishen seized a fistful of Corvin's hair and dragged him up to eye level. "This isn't over. We'll conduct our own investigations on this matter. Because the king is merciful, you will receive your medicine. But make no mistake, skin scraps, if we learn you have not been fulfilling the spirit and purpose of your duties, you will be punished. And if we find out you have a human—well…you know what will happen." He jerked his chin toward the door.
Blue Ridges snapped my wooden spoon and tossed it toward the woodstove. "More kindling for your fire." The pieces clattered on the metal top, one rolling toward the flame of the largest burner.
I set my jaw, my hands balling into fists.
Black Claws dragged the door open, waiting for Lishen to go through. Lishen strode over the threshold. "You'll appear before the king in three days. Unless we find proof of your treachery before then." With that, he strode away. The other two followed, Black Claws pulling the door almost shut behind them.
Every fiber of my body screamed for me to run to Corvin right away.
But Corvin was shaking his head harshly, mouthing the word "no" over and over.
I froze. Even as the end of my cherished wooden spoon caught fire. Even as Corvin lay there motionless, his hand clasped over the serrated blade. His blood pooled on the stone floor, and he just kept mouthing the word "no."
Tagger wasn't moving from beneath the table. He too just stared at the door.
My entire body ached with the inaction.
The door slammed open again.
I almost let a startled scream slip out, my eyes bulging.
Black Claws stood there, scanning the room. He looked down at Corvin, eyes narrowing. "Pathetic," he growled. Then he spat on him. He jerked the door shut behind him.
This time the runes sealed over it.
As soon as the light of the runes flared and vanished, Tagger bounded to Corvin. He started nuzzling and licking him, whimpering and squeaking.
I shoved the panel back, practically falling out. The stone struck me hard, but I scrambled forward, barely feeling the pain. "Corvin!"
He dragged the blade out, his face contorting. His bright-green eyes had dulled, and the green and yellow of his flesh had faded to sickly hues. Dark veins sprouted around the two broken claws cutting into his wrists. His breathing was labored and shallow, his eyes glazed with pain. By the time I got up from my stumble, he was moving.
Limbs trembling, he struggled up on his knees and avoided the broken pottery and clay. His hand gripped the table, his claws digging into the wood as he drew in a ragged breath. He snatched the jar with his medicine and shoved a handful of the herbs straight into his bleeding mouth.
I grabbed the mildewed mats and dragged them back into the bedroom. The one blanket had been ripped in half, but it would still do for now. Though it was one of the saddest beds I'd ever seen, it was better than nothing.
I rushed to his side as he struggled forward. Though normally he towered over me, he leaned heavily against my shoulder as I helped him hobble to the makeshift bed. His breath came in shuddering gasps and his stripes continued fading to a sickly grey.
"Lie down." I eased him onto the mats.
"I just need to rest. I'll be fine," he said, his voice shaking at the end. He lay down on his side immediately. His tunic and trousers were soaked with blood.
"Do you need me to bind your wounds?"
"I've closed off the bleeding," he said weakly. "I'll be fine."
My heart pounded nonetheless. How could he survive all that?
"I didn't think they would come here," he murmured. "I—I was wrong. I was wrong, Mena."
"What can I do?" I placed my hand against his throat, checking his pulse. It was weak beneath my fingertips.
"I just—I just have to heal." His eyelids slid shut.
"You will." I stroked his silky hair, my fingers teasing at the curls. Why hadn't he defended himself? He'd taken the beating with little protest. And he'd protected Tagger and me. A knot of emotion formed in my throat, tears choking me. Those fae were just being cruel to him. "Do they often do this to you?"
He shook his head, his cheek resting against his arm as he supported himself. "Worse this time. Lishen was angry. So was the king. I've made them suspicious."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
He shook his head.
I sat there with him in silence, watching and considering what had happened. He wasn't healing fast after that initial burst either. When I pressed him, he said it was just because of the internal wounds and the venom from two of the claws. "The venom is targeted at my blood as it is now to keep me in check. It's designed to be exceptionally painful and draining." His eyes remained shut.
More and more cruelty against him.
Had the bruising on his face gone down? Maybe a little. The deep cut across his lip had finally healed.
Tagger whimpered and nuzzled him. He then moved under Corvin's arm and put his wet snout directly on his chin.
I remained beside Corvin, feeling so helpless.
What could I do?
The air was thick and unpleasant with the odors of spilled stew, fresh blood, and charred wood. Though I hadn't asked a lot of questions in the shifter village, I had seen quite a bit. They had a medical facility attached to the tavern and the inn and the store. Shifters consumed huge quantities of food. They needed it for the energy. "Is it true that food and water helps? That you eat a lot to heal faster?"
He nodded, eyes firmly shut.
Well, that was something I could help with.
I halted when I saw the pieces of my spoon catching fire on the wood stove.
"No!" Lunging forward, I gripped the pieces of the wooden spoon and put out the flames licking along the end. I'd forgotten all about it until it was almost too late. It was going to be hard to repair.
"What's wrong?" Corvin called. He groaned as he started to get up. One of the wounds along his mouth and neck reopened. Blood trickled down his now-dull skin. He collapsed against the bed.
"Nothing, it's nothing. Don't worry about it," I said tightly. I pinched the bridge of my nose. It really wasn't worth his attention. There were far more important matters for us to worry about. Tears pricked my eyes as I set the broken pieces on the table.I didn't believe in dreams anyway.
Right now, I had to focus on the tasks at hand.
I went back into the storerooms and started searching for anything that might help strengthen his healing abilities.
Tagger remained by Corvin's side for about an hour before he padded out and disappeared. He returned with various fish and mollusks, piling them on the table.
I praised Tagger each time, and when he at last stopped, I scratched his chin and behind his ears. "You're very sweet. Just the very best," I said gently. He didn't chirp or squeak in response, and he rejected every treat I offered him until I returned one of the scallops to him. Even then he took it to Corvin and tried to make him eat it.
It took what felt like hours to clean up the destruction. There was another bin in the storeroom that I dragged out for all the broken pieces. There had to be glue somewhere in this place.
Maybe I could make some out of the fishbones? Maybe…
Taking care of Corvin was more important though, and right now, all I could really do to help him was ensure he had good nourishing food.
Thanks to Tagger's efforts, I now had haddock, mussels, shrimp, scallops, and small salmon. All fresh. All rich and flavorful.
Once I got the stew simmering, I cleaned up. It felt as if it took hours.
I discovered a splinter-riddled mop under one broken crate as well as a broom. No dust pan to be seen, so I made do with a broken bowl. Digging through the storeroom and searching revealed additional items. Even some white wine, which I promptly put into the stew. The tea tins I brought out along with a small pot would serve well enough to boil water and make some good tea.
Rifling through the items, I even found my mini-crossbow. Apparently Tagger had kept it. Incorrigible little beast.
Whenever I passed the little room where Corvin slept, I peeked in. Some of the wounds just didn't seem to be healing. He kept his hand over his side protectively. He had been able to heal me, even if he said it was an accident. So why was he struggling so much now?
Was it the venom?
How cruel was it that he had to live with venomous claws set against his wrist? Venom customized to his very blood. And he had to live here on top of all that.
Sometimes he trembled. Sweat beaded on his brow. He kept his jaws clenched tight.
I brought him water and made him a special tea I found in the storeroom as well. It smelled of green tea, ginger, lemon, and pomegranate. "Drink this," I murmured, hoping he would find my voice soothing. "I'll have food ready for you in a couple more hours."
He nodded tightly. "You don't have to do this," he said shakily.
"Just drink this."
He accepted it, his grip faltering a little on the mug.
"Do they often beat you this way?"
"When the mood seizes them."
"And you just take it?" I'd seen him shatter the ship like it was matchsticks. The other fae were strong as well, of course. But he could have done something. Or was he condemned to simply be their punching bag.
"So long as they don't hurt Tagger, I can manage. If you fight them too much, they just get meaner. And there's nowhere else for me to go. They can get fairly creative. This time they only had poison on their boot tips and claws."
"I didn't—I didn't even see those," I whispered.
"You're not supposed to see it. It's not deadly. Just painful." He stared at the wall, his eyes hooded. He swallowed hard. "Mena…"
"Yes?" I crouched beside him.
"If I asked you to swear to me that you would never leave me—even knowing all of this about me—would you swear it?"
My eyes widened. "What?"
It was a simple yet heavy question. One that should have been easy to answer at once.
Except for that look in his eyes. They pleaded for something—not a yes. But the desire.
And my hesitation—if that look was true, it cut him deeper than the blade Lishen stabbed in his side.
My heart shattered. "It isn't that—Corvin, I?—"
"I don't want to talk anymore."
"Corvin," I started.
"It's all right," he said roughly, shaking his head. "It was stupid of me to think otherwise. I'll find a way to fix this. But I don't want to talk right now."
He refused to say much more, and chills came upon him again. Fever raged in his veins.
When the stew was finished, I fed it to him. He murmured his thanks, but he still refused to look at me. Almost as if he were ashamed.
Though I was exhausted, it was hard for me to rest. Even the slightest sound disturbed me.
Time was meaningless. I could estimate it roughly based on the fact that the broth in the stew kept cooking down, but it was hard to be precise.
In between my other tasks, I tried to make glue to mend my spoon. It didn't work, resulting in a sticky mess.
His healing was slow. I made him eat and drink every few hours, and I read from the book from my mama's desk. At least as much as I could. My thoughts often drifted to her.
Had Mama found the portal she was looking for? A way to reach the Oracle and find another clue in Erryn's disappearance? Mama was stranded on the island until the boundary moved and help came. Then she'd no doubt be back on her way to finding Erryn. She'd have to.She probably wouldn't leave that staircase as she searched for answers.
My heart twisted a little bit as I remembered the charge the fae had given: my mother was calling out for her daughter now.
But did Lishen mean Erryn or me?
Who would she choose if she had to?
Could there be a deeper hell to thrust anyone in than to choose between two people you loved?
I held my head and rocked back and forth, trying to calm the storm within me. Each time I drifted off, I startled awake soon after.
The only thing Corvin asked for was the medicine from the jar. He took it several times. Not once did he enjoy it, though he did enjoy the stew and tea I brought him. And though he refused to talk, as time passed, I noticed him watching me through hooded eyes, his gaze sad but hungry. It was clear he wrestled with something.
After all was cleaned up, I curled up beside him and put my arms around him. Just because he might be cold.
That was the only reason.
Wasn't it?
Yes.
Sweet night…
I hugged him, my chin pressed to his shoulder as I placed my hand over his.
Was he even awake?
His hand tightened over mine.
My heart pounded faster, my tongue thickening in my mouth. "Am I bothering you?"
"No. But I still don't want to talk. I need to think. Forgive me."
I squeezed his hand in response, then rested my cheek against his shoulder. He was a fair bit bigger than me. My being the big spoon was almost comical, but I wanted to comfort him. Even with all the questions that rose within me. Even knowing he was the reason I was down here. I just—I felt bad for him.
Tagger climbed up on us both and snuggled in. His tail flicked at Corvin's cheek before he tucked his tail around his hindquarters.
No trace of the striking cologne Corvin wore remained. We all smelled like fish, blood, must, and smoke. Yet it didn't make me want to pull away.
I just wanted him to feel better.
At last I fell asleep.
No dreams reached me.
When I woke, something felt changed. My eyes flew open.
Corvin and Tagger were gone.