Chapter 27 #2
We walked on in silence, keeping our eyes peeled for any sort of shelter that would be big enough to keep us and the horses dry.
After an hour of nothing but cold, dark forest, we stumbled across a dilapidated structure.
I couldn’t tell if it was a shack or a cabin.
It looked as if it had been abandoned for years.
The yard was overgrown, and even the horse ties were covered in moss and rotting away.
Elva and I looked at each other. Her brow furrowed, but after a moment she shrugged, then marched toward the overgrown path that led to the structure.
As we got closer, it became clear that it had been a log cabin.
The porch had collapsed, and a tree had fallen and bowed the roof.
It had two windows, with one blocked by debris, and a large wooden door.
As I took a step on the porch, it cracked, and Elva pulled me back.
She tentatively put some of her weight on it, and once she was confident it would support her, she waved me back and crept toward the window.
Why she was going so slowly was beyond me, since the pounding rain would drown out her steps.
Elva pulled a hair tie from her back pocket and paused for a moment to tie back her blue and green locks.
As she reached behind her head, my eyes darted to her shirt unbidden.
A rather large section was stained a deep rust color, and I’d fought with my brothers enough as a boy to recognize that shade.
Blood.
But was it old, or fresh? And how would I find out without her noticing? The last thing we needed was her passing out from blood loss and her brothers coming after me.
A small rock struck me, bringing me out of my thoughts.
Elva had reached the window and beckoned me over.
I tied our horses to the only post that looked as if it wouldn’t fall from the slightest tug and walked over to her, avoiding the broken section this time.
Together, we peered into the cabin. It was deserted.
“Let’s get inside.” I loosened my back and dropped my shoulder before I slammed it into the door, but the thing didn’t budge. I took a breath and slammed myself into it a second and third time. I only stopped when I heard Elva groan.
“What now?” I asked.
“You could try the handle first,” she said.
“What?”
“The little metal contraption in the middle. If you push or twist it, the door usually opens.”
“I know what a handle is,” I shot back as I crossed my arms at her ridiculous suggestion. “What I don’t understand is why you think someone would leave their door unlo—”
Before I could finish, Elva leaned in front of me. Her breasts brushed the back of my knuckles as a faint scent of water lilies overwhelmed my senses. She pushed down on the handle, and the door swung open. Without a word, she slipped inside.
“So, are you part witch, too?” I asked, following her in.
“No, but when people live this far away from other people, they don’t always lock their doors.”
The room was dark from the storm outside. I left the door open to help illuminate the place more, but Elva seemed to move around as if she didn’t need any light. She was already on the other side of the room, opening and closing the drawers.
She must have seen me staring. “Sirens can see in rather dark spaces,” she said. “This is about as dark as I can manage.”
My eyes slowly adjusted to the room, and I was thankful my selkie side had a similar dark vision ability to what Elva did.
I could finally make out the interior. There was a stone fireplace on the wall and a stack of wood beside it that would last for days.
Elva was near a desk, and before I could ask what she was doing, she found some candles and flint.
She lit one and handed it to me before walking to explore the other rooms. Not wanting to argue with her, I put the candle down by the fireplace and set about starting a fire to let us dry our clothes.
Once the flames were roaring, I headed out to tend to the horses.
I led them to the back of the house, where there was an overhang coming off the roof with a fenced pen under it.
“They must have let the smaller poles rot because they had this one,” I said to Acorn as I patted him.
The gate opened easily, and I unsaddled both horses.
I found a rain barrel for them at the side of the house.
Once I’d settled our horses, I brought their riding blankets to the main room to dry by the fire.
Elva had transformed the main room. She’d found bedding and set the blankets and a few pillows up on the floor by the fire.
She’d draped a mop and broom across the desk to the chair, and her clothes were already hanging by the fire.
That she intended to sleep beside me naked sent a bolt of heat straight to my groin.
I knew she’d been lying about forgetting our night together, but my pride had taken a hit at the idea that she could so easily dismiss an encounter I’d never forget.
I certainly wouldn’t mind the opportunity to refresh her memory.
“Well, I hope you like potatoes,” Elva’s voice drifted from further in the cabin. “Because that’s all we have.” She came out with a sack, but my eyes went to what she was wearing. It was a soft baby blue dress with delicate bows on the sleeves and an enormous bow on her waist.
“What are you wearing?” I asked, unable to help myself.
“The only thing that would fit. It seems a rather tall person lives here.” She pointed toward the chair with a pair of brown pants and a cream-colored linen shirt draped over it. “You should be able to get those to fit you.”
I looked from the clothes back to Elva. “Did you find a pot for the potatoes?”
“No.” She squatted by the fire and began removing our dinner from the bag.
“Then how do you intend to cook them?” I asked smugly.
I may not have known how to cook many foods, but my brothers and I had taken frequent trips out of the castle and into the woods as children, mainly to get away from our father.
We'd learn to cook a few things for ourselves so we wouldn't starve. I knew you needed to bury potatoes in a fire’s embers when you lacked a pot to boil them in.
“I plan to use these.” Elva tossed me a thin chain mail bag. “Leifur made them. We cook all kinds of vegetables in them. We put them beside the fire when we can’t let it burn down. Works like a charm.” She tossed me another sack. “That's for the horses. If you go feed them, I’ll start our supper.”
Thunder boomed outside, and the cabin rattled in response.
I dropped the metal bag beside her and headed out to tend to the horses.
The rain had picked up again and was even worse than before, but lucky for the horses, it was blowing away from their shelter.
I fed them and made sure they were comfortable for the night before I ran around the side of the house to the entrance.
Elva was gone again, so I slowly peeled off my wet clothes and grabbed the dry ones she’d found for me. She'd been right about the size—the pants dragged on the floor around my feet, and the shirt made me feel like a child playing dress-up in his father's clothes.
Elva soon returned from the dark room. “Anything interesting in there?” I asked.
“An old kitchen, and two small bedrooms. I got the blankets from them, but this is the only fireplace, so I thought we should … stick together.” She narrowed her eyes at me.
“Or maybe you're just trying to keep an eye on me so I don’t run away?” I crossed my arms and glared at her as lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room for a moment.
“You said it, not me.”
Thunder rumbled again, and I waited for it to pass. “I could have fled at least a dozen times already and haven’t. Why would I now?”
“Who said you’d flee? Maybe you’d just kill me in my sleep now that my brothers aren’t here to kill you afterward.”
“If you truly believe that, then sleeping beside me is a terrible idea.”
“It’s absolutely a terrible idea, but I’d rather not freeze tonight.”
“That, I can agree with.” I motioned for her to take a seat on the blankets. “Ladies first.”
She rolled her eyes, but crossed the bedding and took the right side. Good. I was hoping she’d take that side … she doesn’t remember what side I slept on, does she? I sat down beside her, but made sure not to touch her again. I didn’t want to stir up any more of my feelings from earlier.
I studied the flames, searching for Leifur’s creations.
Elva saw my gaze and pointed them out in the corners of the fireplace.
She was right about them. When the potatoes were fully cooked, they tasted as delicious as anything our chef at the palace could make.
With full bellies and dry clothes, we settled in to get some rest, but the thunder and lightning combined with the rain pounding down on the roof made it hard to sleep.
At least that’s what I told myself. In truth, the faint scent of water lilies surrounding us was driving me mad.
“What if the owners come back?” I asked.
“I think the place is abandoned.”
“Even with the potatoes?”
“There was a thick layer of dust on everything,” she said. “Even the blankets. And look at that tree sticking through the wall.”
“That could be new. It’s quite the storm.”
“Do you think it’ll be gone by morning?” Elva asked, pulling the blanket over herself.
“At this rate? I’m not sure.”
Elva sighed.
“They’ll be okay,” I said.
“Don’t pretend you know my family,” she snapped, rolling over to face the wall.
“Sorry for trying to comfort you,” I muttered, mostly to myself.