Chapter 7 #2
I stare down at my hand at the small cut that's already beginning to heal. Such a silly little mark that has changed the course of my entire life, for I am now bound to two and half fae, and half an orc. Our lives are intertwined by magick now.
I wonder if perhaps I will be taken into one of their beds for the claiming part now, but Morgan just leads me back to the chair by the hearth and asks me if I’m hungry.
They don’t finish the ritual and I don’t know what to think. It’s incomplete. Why aren’t they doing the rest?
I watch as Morgan slices bread and cheese for the midday meal at the table. He brings a small plate to me and we eat. Afterward, Locke goes upstairs in silence with Jak, maybe to look at more books.
Perhaps the claiming is a hardship to them. We aren’t in the Dark anymore, after all. I’ve already seen how girls here stare at Jak and Locke, and even Morgan in the street when they think no one’s looking. Maybe with so many other options, they don't want me like that.
But Dane said it was important, that it needed to be done.
Maybe they hope Voss will have me locked away in the Underhill so that I’m no more bother to them. They didn’t know they’d have to share their home with me, the rest of their lives, when they brought me here. Locke may want his chamber returned, and the annoying human gone.
I purse my lips as I sit alone by the hearth. I thought I would be dreading the claiming, that I would feel it looming over me if it wasn’t done, but instead there’s a pervading sense of disappointment and confusion that annoys me when I think about it.
I don’t want them! I shouldn’t trust them. They don’t truly want me.
I say it over and over like a mantra to hold back these odd feelings that are beginning to lead me astray. I should have one goal. One purpose. One future in mind.
Earn my place here. Make my life here. Perhaps meet a decent man and have a family here.
There should be no room for these males who brought me here, and yet, in some jest by Fate, I cannot escape them.
‘Bryn?’
I look up at Jak.
‘I wondered if you’d like to come back to the healer’s rooms with me.’
‘But you’ve already given me the salve,’ I say with a frown.
He laughs lightly. ‘Not to be healed, to learn the healing arts. Properly. As a novice.’
A healer? A real healer? Me?
I realize I’m just staring at him, and he looks a bit uncertain when I don’t answer.
‘Only if you want to,’ he adds.
I stand, nodding hard. Perhaps this is how I can prove myself to the village. ‘Yes. Yes, please.’
He takes me to the apothecary without delay and I find myself at a table in front of piles of herbs, wondering how I’m here in this room learning a trade when not three days ago I was in the pits fighting to stay alive.
I scowl in irritation as I stare down at the table of salves and creams in front of me, lost in my thoughts.
Somehow, it’s been almost a week since I was brought to the Light.
Jak, Morgan, and Locke continue to treat me well, like I’m one of them.
Morgan cooks for me and sits with me in the evenings, most of my days are spent with Jak helping and learning in the healer’s rooms, and both Locke and Morgan have begun to show me how to fight properly, just as they promised when they have time in the evenings as well, though Locke doesn’t speak to me much.
I see now by what I’m learning from them that the training pits taught little in the way of actual combat.
They just wanted us to learn to kill each other, become merciless and hard, before we were taken up to be trained properly.
But thanks to Locke and Morgan, I’m already able to wield a knife with confidence, and move more quickly in a fight.
But I’m very confused by their kind manners. All three of them are making me waver in my promise to myself to have little to do with them bar whatever is necessary for this bond that’s now between us.
The claiming part still hasn’t been done, either. It’s bothering me, making me feel vulnerable. Soon, Voss will take me to train with the fae. I don’t want him to simply be able to rip me away from the Light, and lock me up in the Underhill because the males I’m bound to refuse to fuck me.
'What's this one used for, Bryn?' Jak asks me, putting one of the many jars he has in the healer's room stores under my nose.
I let the frustration melt off my face before I look up.
I sniff at the vessel in front of me. There's only been one or two so far out of the many that he's had me smell today that I haven't known, and he seems pleased.
'Is it for burns?' I ask.
He grins. ‘Right again!’
I can’t help the warmth that curls around my innards and I clench my hands at my sides where he can’t see.
Stop it, Bryn! What care you for his regard?
I don’t want them! I can’t trust them.
'I hadn't realized that you had learned so much at The Barrack,' he continues, unaware of the words I’m silently chanting to myself.
I shrug, giving him what I hope is a wry grin.
'I had to learn,' I say. 'The healer wasn't there for the humans, so I gleaned what I could, both in knowledge and sometimes in supplies as well if I knew he wasn’t going to notice.’
'Did you help the other humans?'
'When I was able to,' I say lightly. 'But most of the time they didn't trust me. They knew I was different, and they were afraid. And, if they accepted help and Ogdan or Sio found out, they'd be punished. Well, Ogdan would have them hurt me, so that Fate would do it for him.'
Jak is silent for a long time, and when I look up, he's turned away again, looking through more of the stores with a frown on his face. He's left a cloth bag on the table beside me. I pick it up and smell it as well, thinking.
‘For megrims, I think.’
He looks back and gives me a wide grin.
‘I don’t think there’s much to teach you about herbs except their names,' he says, and I smile back.
In spite of the mantra, it does feel nice to be good at something…for him to think I’m good at something.
There's a knock on the door, and I look up at it, my heart leaping. We discussed this, I say to myself to steady my nerves. This is just another step to make this place my home. To do that, the people must accept me, and this is the best way to ensure that happens.
Jak gives me a nod, his countenance encouraging. ‘You can do it.’
I release a breath to steady my nerves.
This is the first person here that I will be healing by myself in the few days since I began helping Jak.
Gods, have I really been in the Light for almost a whole week?
I open the door, and, in the apothecary that's usually deserted, a woman waits with a small child. When she sees me, her eyes narrow.
'Where is Fae Jak?' she asks haughtily.
Fae Jak?
'He's here,' I say, stepping to the side to let her pass.
She brings the child of no more than five winters into the room.
'It's a tummy ache,' she says to Jak, ignoring me entirely. 'Can you help?'
Jak smiles in that relaxed, playful way that put me at ease during our journey through the Dark Realms. It works on almost everyone here as well.
'Of course we can help,' he replies, putting an emphasis on the ‘we’.
‘Claudia, this is Bryn. Bryn, Claudia. And this,' he picks up the small child, who gives him a frown but doesn't cry or whimper. 'This is Orlan. A tummy ache, you say?'
He looks over at me. ‘Bryn?’
I step forward, letting out another calming breath.
'Is the ache high or low down?' I ask the little boy.
He surveys me curiously, but doesn’t answer, so I look to his mother.
She purses her lips and eyes Jak.
'Claudia, Bryn is training to be a healer. She has great skill, and there are, as you know, many times when I am not here, and someone from the Underhill comes now that Gwen no longer lives in Halsford.'
The woman lets out a dissatisfied snort. 'Aye, the one they sent the last time was a right uppity sod. And Gwen.’ She tuts. ‘Girl knows her trade well. It’s no good for Halsford that she moved away.’
Claudia goes silent, treating me to a thorough inspection, her eyes studying me intensely.
'Well,' she says finally, 'so long as she knows her trade…Even if she’s a Dark Realmer, I suppose she’s at least a human, not that we don’t love you, of course, Fae Jak.’
I glance at Fae Jak in question as she pats his hand. He doesn’t look at me.
‘Of course,’ Jak murmurs good-naturedly.
‘You know what I mean.’ She glances at me as if I, as a human like her, will understand completely. ‘It's just that them from the Underhill can be a bit…'
I do understand!
I nod sagely. 'I've met some of them.’
She snorts a laugh, and I smile back, excited about our common ground.
'Aye, I'll wager you have at that, Dark Realmer like you.’ Claudia rolls her eyes. ‘And that Tavish has been waxing lyrical about the Halsford going to the dogs as well. Still, he'll shut his trap as soon as he needs something from you. That's his way.’
She turns back to Jak. ‘Did you hear about Mayson?’
Jak shakes his head. ‘Who is Mayson?’
‘One of Tavish’s drivers. Nasty man.’ She wrinkles her nose, and my ears prick up.
Was Mayson the man who attacked me in the alley the other day?
‘Apparently, he’s gone missing.’
‘Missing, you say?’ Jak asks carefully, his eyes not straying anywhere near me.
‘Aye. He was meant to be leaving with the wagons yesterday, but no one could find him. There were tracks leading out toward the river, but no one’s allowed to search for him past the wards until the Council votes on it.’
She lets out a soft chuckle. ‘You should have seen the snit Tavish was in when he realized he couldn’t do exactly what he wanted, that he needed the other Council members to approve the request. Serves him right, all those rules and regulations he keeps forcing on the rest of us.’
She suddenly seems to recall that she isn’t here to gossip. ‘Right, little Orry. Where does it hurt, my brave little man?'
I crouch down in front of him when he doesn’t answer.
‘Can you point to where it hurts?' I ask.
The child pats his stomach, and I nod. 'Very good. Has he eaten anything odd or out of the ordinary lately?'