CHAPTER TWENTY
VAYEN
Ileaned against a tree as I stared at the still-glowing window of the Ugly Tankard. The bark was cold and moist against the cotton of my shirt, but I had been very near fever-warm these past few days. Even if I hadn’t, I had little energy left to care about anything other than her.
What was she thinking? Was she frightened of her new surroundings?
Maybe she managed to push the day’s events from her mind as she relaxed into the tub they would have prepared for her.
Or perhaps she was too exhausted to bathe, and would instead fall quickly into a deep sleep.
I hoped for that. By the time Catrin got her to the heart of our village, the darkness under her eyes had seeped to her cheeks. She deserved some rest.
Catrin and Winnie were far too close when I noticed their presence, and Winnie’s narrowed gaze as I nearly startled told me she had taken note—the woman was wearing a bright yellow tunic, for Naeno’s sake.
Fucking depths. Contain yourself.
“Vayen!” Catrin said with an easy smile. “You disappeared so quickly this morning. Is everything all right?”
I can't risk being around her. Not yet…
“I was otherwise occupied when I heard Milo’s screams,” I said, forcing myself to meet her gaze. “I knew the crosser would be safe in your capable hands.”
Winnie stood just behind Catrin with pursed lips and a lowered brow casting shadows over her dark blue eyes. That damnable expression stole the brightness from her features whenever she knew I was hiding something.
“I appreciate your confidence.” Catrin cast a brief glance back towards Winnie, who was uncharacteristically silent, before returning her attention to me.
She shifted her weight nervously to the balls of her feet, hands clasping before her pink skirts.
“I’m glad you brought her to me when you did.
Any longer and I might not have been able to reverse the effects of her unveiling. ”
The degree of control I maintained over my expression was impressive, though I would be shocked if Winnie wasn’t acutely aware of my throat closing.
Only a whisper of air traveled through my nostrils as my lungs struggled to function.
It was a suffocating thought, that something damaging and irreversible might have happened to her.
“Why?” was all I could manage, and I prayed to Naeno that the forced syllable sounded less strained than it felt.
“Why what?” Catrin asked with a furrowed brow.
“I think what Vayen is trying to ask,” Winnie began, and oh could I sense every ounce of disapproval dripping from her words, “is why the veil nearly killed her? She’s clearly not a Hollow, even if she made the unfortunate choice to dress like one.”
Catrin looked between us once more, strawberry-blonde curls shifting with the movement. “It’s quite curious. At first, I wondered if she might already be hollowing, but she ingested my herbs without incident. It ended up being a Hollow artifact she had in her cloak pocket.”
“An artifact?” Winnie questioned, crossing one arm over the other. “Is it possible for an artifact to carry that degree of Hollow energy?”
“It’s possible if the artifact has Hollow blood in it, and hers did,” Catrin said. She clicked her tongue against her teeth, head inclined disapprovingly. “She’s quite fortunate to have crossed when she did.”
The ruby brooch she had worn to the Feast of Comets.
I’d noticed it pinned to her dark red undershirt and recognized it as Hollow craftsmanship immediately, but I hadn’t considered it might have been made by a blood wielder.
If I had, I would have done what was necessary to remove it from her person before she crossed.
Attempting to enter Grenythwood could have killed her, all because I didn’t have the foresight to consider she might take that damnable brooch with her.
And why wouldn’t she? It would be worth a fortune.
More than enough to start a new life in Grenythwood, if she managed to sell it before it fell into the wrong hands.
Reckless. If she had died—
Winnie’s eyes widened. Imperceptible to most, but I noticed the slight dilation as she no doubt honed in on the sudden battering of my heart against my chest. Depths, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Catrin could hear it, and her ears were as untrained as the rest of the humans.
But she didn’t die, I reminded myself as a silent plea to relax the hum simmering beneath my skin.
What was wrong with me?
Denial was the only reason that question could even enter my mind. I knew exactly what was wrong with me, but accepting that reality was an overwhelming prospect.
Not here. Not now.
I forced myself to speak, drawing both their eyes away from the sweat gathering on my brow.
“Fortunate indeed,” I said. “With their blood on her, it was only a matter of time before she succumbed.”
“Precisely.” Catrin bobbed her head. “Even more fortunate that Milo found her during his scavenge. I thought the four of you had traveled together?”
Her inquiry was innocent enough, but I was well aware of the smarts that lay behind that unassuming face.
She had a mystery on her hands and I was an obstacle to its resolution.
It would be half a day before I could question Berig on what the Princess had told her, so I had to be careful with my words.
I derived no pleasure from deceiving Berig’s Moonbond, but there was little choice.
If I could have managed any of this without Berig or Winnie, they would be in the dark, same as her.
“We had set off the four of us, but our journey had us crossing briefly.”
“Ah,” Catrin said with a nod. “I understand why you sent him off, then.” She was more worried about preserving Milo’s innocence than the rest of us. Perhaps because she knew our ability to do so was nearing its end.
I pushed myself from the trunk, pocketing both hands with a slight glance towards that same tavern window as the glow within flickered. Was her fire reduced to a smolder? They’d better have left ample wood to ward off the cold…
Catrin followed my gaze, lips pressed together as she studied the round window and its dancing glow. “I sprinkled some lullawort residue on her pillow.”
“That’ll do the trick,” Winnie said with a snort.
Catrin heaved a sigh, her brow indenting with worry. “She couldn’t calm. Even when I tried to assuage her concerns… it only seemed to unsettle her more.”
“Curious,” Winnie mumbled.
But I didn’t find it curious. I had seen into her during my vision and knew the beliefs she guarded deep in her heart.
Fear was a steady undercurrent in her life.
In some ways, it was her closest friend.
Always nearby. Ready to ignite at a moment’s notice.
A protector, of sorts. The worry that wrapped itself around her spirit had encouraged numbness; it kept her safe from her father’s brutality and her brother’s venomous tongue—as safe as it could, I suspected she would argue.
If only safety were a concept within her comprehension.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want Catrin’s comfort, I knew with certainty.
It was that she didn’t trust it to last. And why would she, when cruelty had been wielded against her with practiced precision, its familiar patterns bruising the memories that haunted her?
An unending pain and terror had been carved into her skin, and she likely had no understanding of where it stopped and she began. How could she, when it was all she had ever known?
The very thought sliced through my chest. That girl had never felt safe a day in her life, and what incentive did she have to start now?
No, a great deal would have to occur for her body to experience calm.
And I doubted very much that was the direction things were heading, even if I did everything in my power to make that a reality for her.
“I best be off, then,” Catrin said with a clap of her hands. “I have a few items she’s going to need; poor thing traveled with a bag no larger than a satchel. I’ll have Milo deliver it all in a day or so, once Lyssa’s ready to wake.”
Lyssa. It was the name Milo had called her.
I preferred Alyssum.
“If she needs anything—” I started, but Catrin waved her hand at me knowingly.
“I know where I can find you.” Catrin turned on her heel and bounded down the road, a shock of bright petal pink against the grey darkness of the forest.
“What in the depths was that?” Winnie muttered, closing the distance between us in urgency.
I avoided her gaze, offering only, “The Hollows have a blood wielder.”
“Don’t do that,” Winnie spat. “Don’t pretend you’ve not got an inkling what’s happening here. The way you scented her in the streets, and now this?”
My eyes snapped to hers, and her shoulders rounded reflexively. “I was told to protect her,” I said evenly. “That is exactly what I’m doing.”
“But if she’s your—”
“Don’t,” I warned. “This is a manifestation of my vision. The faceless woman is allowing me the power I need to do what must be done, and nothing more.” The desperation in my voice made it clear—I was trying to convince myself just as much as I was trying to convince her.
Alyssum was nothing to me.
She had to be.