Chapter 32 Non #2
I pinched my lips together, biting back the laugh that so desperately wanted to come out.
Even with Dylan on his knees, he still stood taller than Hefina did standing on her feet.
But my gods, did she make up for her short stature with her attitude.
Anyone who had the audacity to call someone as cocksure as Dylan bachgen bach—little boy—would become a fast friend of mine.
So long as she didn't bite my head off first.
Zenn called from the doorway that he would source the tea and food, and Hefina walked to the workbench under the window with a grumble. I hadn't noticed what she held in her other hand, but she dropped three dead black birds on the workbench and began hacking their heads off.
“I can get her to do that someplace else if it makes you uncomfortable,” Dylan said with an apologetic smile.
I started to tell him it was fine, but Hefina cut across our conversation.
“Old I might be, but my hearing is as sharp as a badger’s.
” She tapped the bloodied knife on her earlobe.
“If she doesn't like what she sees, she can find somewhere else to go.
This is my home, and I have things I need to get done.
Starting with getting rid of Arawn's ravens.” She stabbed the knife into the butcher's block.
Dylan's shoulders tensed. “Hefina! She—”
“It's fine, really. It doesn't bother me at all. And I am incredibly grateful for what you've done for me, Hefina.”
She narrowed her eyes at me before snatching the knife from the block and continued chopping the birds into pieces.
Dylan moved closer ever so slightly, as if to try and keep our conversation quiet. But even I could tell nothing was getting past Hefina in the short time I'd been in her presence.
“Do you remember anything while you were out? Or was it just all darkness?”
I ran my teeth over my bottom lip as I tried to put the experience into words. “I remember some things. I had a few vivid dreams that didn't make much sense.”
“Anything else?”
“And I could hear someone talking. Well, shouting, really. I think I could hear you even though I was…dead.”
Dylan's brows knitted. “Me?”
“Yes, you. All that soppy begging and pleading you were doing for me to come back, I heard it loud and clear.”
With that, the door swung open again, and Zenn returned with a tray. He'd managed to acquire a bowl of cawl, a slice of bara brith with salted butter, and a mug of steaming tea.
“I'm usually happy to ply you with sweet nothings. But the whole time you were unconscious, I hardly spoke more than three words.”
I rolled my eyes in disbelief as Zenn set the tray of food on my lap.
“I can vouch for that. I was here the entire time with him. Miserable bastard only communicated in grunts like an animal.”
Lifting the lid off the teapot, I drew in a deep breath of the sweet aniseed smell.
When I looked back up, Dylan was watching me intently.
He was clearly concerned that I'd been able to hear his voice while I was dead.
But my stomach gargled so loudly that I didn't want to delay stuffing my face any longer.
I wanted to shove everything in my mouth all at once, but my limited arm movement meant I could only take small bites each time.
The first spoonful of soup I'd had was cold by the time it reached my mouth.
As I went to take another sip of soup, Dylan noticed my discomfort. He reached for my spoon, “May I?”
I wasn't sure how I felt about him feeding me. To be honest, I wasn't sure how I felt about anyone feeding me. The whole thing seemed far too intimate. But another growl from my stomach answered for me, and he took the spoon from my hands.
When every single morsel was cleared, I felt like I had enough energy to start asking the difficult questions.
Dylan sat in the rocking chair to my left, while Zenn pulled up a stool at the foot of the bed. Hefina continued to mutilate the dead ravens, hacking at them until they were minced. Once she was done, she threw their bones into the simmering pot over the fire.
“So that's it? After all that, you really can't figure out what or who injured me?”
Hefina, who'd not spoken a word as Zenn and Dylan explained what had happened, let out a snort. Zenn looked to her with a warning in his eyes; he had the type of demeanour that would make most cower with one look. But not Hefina. She met his stare with a look of defiance.
Just when I thought the two of them might pull a weapon on each other, Dylan cleared his throat.
“We can't be sure. Our best guess is that you had some kind of bad reaction to Jazz's power. Possibly because you have the power of Llyr and not D?n. Our working theory is that the power started attacking you.”
Hefina snorted again; this time it was so melodramatic that even Dylan tensed. But she didn't look up from the cast iron pot she was stirring over the fire, dropping in the bones from the black birds one by one.
Once she was done, she wiped her hands on her tattered dress and hobbled towards the foot of the bed. Zenn stood to offer her his seat, but she swatted his shoulder and told him to piss off. “Were the Cyhyraeth sent by Gwaun?”
They all nodded solemnly.
“He was looking for me, wasn't he?”
Dylan shot a curious look at Zenn, who avoided his eye contact and leaned back on his stool.
“Probably,” was all Dylan replied.
I moved my gaze towards the window. Beams of sunlight had started to peek through the grey clouds overhead.
“I guess dying means I've missed a couple days of training? We'll have to make sure we catch up before the start of the Anoethau.”
Dylan's eyebrows shot up, and he snapped his head to Zenn. “You didn't tell her what day it was?”
Zenn lifted his hands in a mock surrender. “You told me to come get you as soon as she woke up. We didn't really have time for a catch-up.” The two were more focused on bickering over who was right than telling me how long I'd been out. “What day is it?”
Dylan's throat worked. “You've been out for just under two weeks, Non. Sunrise is in an hour. It's the day of the first trial.”
In shock, I lurched forward and tried to swing my legs out of bed. Dylan, Zenn, and even Hefina all lunged for me, each reeling off a string of curses as they ushered me back to bed.
“What am I going to do? I can't seriously be expected to still compete today?”
Zenn let out an exasperated sigh, and he flopped back down on his stool. Dylan ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Last week, when it was clear your injuries were significant, we requested an audience with the Cyngor Blaen. Dylan put your case forward on your behalf. He literally pleaded on his knees for them to grant you permission to sit at least the first trial out. They sent Ledr Bronwen here to assess your condition and report back to Aeron with her findings. Your grandmother determined that your injuries were not significant enough to grant you exemption from the first or any of the trials in the Anoethau.”
Un-fucking-believable.
I had nothing to say to that, really. Was I surprised? A little, considering nearly dying was a pretty decent reason for not competing today.
Hefina shifted impatiently at the foot of the bed. “The Witch even had the cheek to question my professional opinion. She's lucky I kept my cool.”
Zenn's lips twitched, ever so slightly. “I seem to recall you threatening to hex her, Hefina. Didn't you say you'd spell her bladder to always be full but never able to take a piss?”
Hefina slowly blinked at Zenn; clearly she saw no issue in threatening the Ledr of the most powerful Coven with a permanent UTI.
“I'll work on some pain relief potions you can take before the trial starts.
I'll even throw in some extra free of charge so you can have them on your person should you need them during the trials too. Technically, having any kind of spelled item on you during the trials is considered cheating, but Bronwen can suck my big toe quite frankly.”
“That's an image I really didn't need in my head, Hefina, ” Zenn grimaced.
Hefina whacked him around the head with her staff, then turned to Dylan, wagging her bony finger in his face. “You haven't asked her about her blood!”
Dylan gritted his teeth. “I was getting to that, Hefina. One piece of bad news at a time. She's been through enough in the last hour.”
“What about my blood?”
Dylan nodded for Hefina to continue.
“When you were brought to me, you were bleeding from a lot of places.
I noticed immediately the overwhelming smell of sweetness coming from your blood.
Then Dylan mentioned he'd also noticed it the day you were attacked by Seren at Llwyn Onn. He informed me that during your first training session with the Northern Coven, your cousin took a sample of your blood off the ground.”
I nodded, but I didn't really understand what Hefina was implying.
“When I went to see High Healer Sioned to get my broken nose fixed, Granny gave the vial to Sioned and asked her to deliver the results to her directly.”
Hefina tutted. “Should have known that shit job on your nose was done by my sister.”
Pink stained my cheeks as I prodded at the lump still present at the bridge of my nose.
“What Hefina is trying to say,” Dylan interjected, “is that when she tested your blood, it contained incredibly high levels of a certain plant. A flower, to be more specific. One that is used to nullify a Witch's powers. It's the only known substance to be able to do so.”
“What flower?” I whispered, but a sinking feeling in my stomach told me I somehow already knew.
“Foxglove.”
“That's what they were keeping locked away in the Healer's Ward. I saw it myself the day I went to get my nose fixed.”