Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Harper
W hen we are far enough away from the hellish castle, Jax finds us a place he thinks will be safe to rest. I’m so tired I can barely see. It’s embarrassing, but I let Aaran carry me the entire way. My legs feel as if they’ve been turned to jelly. For all I know, they have. Every cell in my body aches and some of me is in agony. Inside, I feel as if part of me was torn away. Perhaps it was my innocence that the witch queen took. Maybe I have PTSD. I feel like a worn-out dish towel, with insufficient threads left to be useful. Yet just like that rag, I linger.
As Aaran eases me to a patch of grass on the side of a hill, Bert rushes over to cushion any chance I might be jostled. “There, you go, Harper,” Bert says. He lets out a long breath and goes to help build a fire at the center of the camp.
I’d like to watch the goings-on, but I’m too tired. All I see is people rushing here and there in a blur. Tears prickle my eyes, and I don’t have the strength to keep them down.
Aaran kneels between me and the bustling elves. His handsome face has a streak of dirt across his cheek. His eyes are bright but narrowed. Cupping my face in his hands, he says, “I’m more sorry than I can ever atone for, mo chroi .”
“You’re sorry?” I can’t fathom what he might be apologizing for.
Running his thumbs under my eyes, he wipes away my tears. “More than I can say. How will you forgive me? Of course, you can’t. I made you a promise and could not keep it.” There’s bitterness in his tone that I can’t account for.
“Are you taking the blame for my capture?” The truth of that starts to sort itself in my abused and mottled brain. “You didn’t tell me to go into the woods alone. You didn’t send for that hag. She is to blame, and I am to blame.”
“I promised to keep you safe.” He brushes my hair off my forehead.
And there it is. He made a promise, and now it haunts him.
I cover one of his hands with mine. “You came for me. That’s all that matters.”
“I should have been by your side at all times.” Dropping his hands, he lowers his gaze from mine.
It hurts to breathe too deeply, and I wince at the attempt, then try again with better success. “Aaran, these kinds of promises are never worth crap. My father promised to spend a lifetime with my mother, but he died. It’s not his fault. He meant the vow at the time. Still, he couldn’t keep it. I just need some time to heal and maybe a good shrink for the rest of my life. I’ll be fine.”
Easing his chin up, he looks long into my eyes, and my heart pounds even though I’m too exhausted to do anything but look. He says, “Then you forgive me?”
My muscles scream as I sit up straight and try to stretch, only to have to stop my arms halfway up, and lower them. Even that is too much effort. “I don’t think this was your fault, but if you need my forgiveness, then you have it.”
He pulls me into his arms. “Thank you.”
It is agony and ecstasy all at once. “Gently,” I whisper.
“What is a shrink?”
Even laughing hurts and transforms into a groan. “A doctor to tell your problems to.”
“Ah.” Easing his hug, he kisses my cheek. “I’m going to get you some water. The lake isn’t far. If you want to bathe, I can carry you there.”
I need to wash. There’s no doubt about it. “Can I rest a while?”
He nods. “I’ll bring you water. I thought we’d be able to portal since you’ve only been through two, but you’re not strong enough, and I’ve already been through three. I should have brought more soldiers from the village.” Digging in his backpack that he bought in New Jersey, he pulls out a small blanket.
My life in my world feels like an eternity ago, but it was only a few days—or a lifetime. I tuck the rolled-up blue and green flowered throw under my head and lie on my side in the cool grass. “Thanks. I lost my father’s ring.”
Sorrow fills his too-blue eyes. “He’s with you still.”
“I know.” It comes out teary and weak. I want to tell him to rest or to care for the others. I want to beg him to lie beside me and keep me company. I don’t say any of it. I let my tears fall and close my eyes.
Aaran
Harper’s tears break my heart. I want to wipe them away and all the memories of the witch queen with them. Later I will try to ease her pain. Now I need to help secure the encampment and be ready to ward off attacks.
Venora was damaged, that much was obvious. She will need time to heal, but how long, I don’t know. For the moment, I think we are safe.
Over a hundred souls to look after. I was supposed to bring one human woman from her world to Domhan. It should have been simple. Perhaps that’s my lesson. Nothing is ever as easy as expected.
As I speak the spells that ward the area and will alert us if an attack is imminent, I pray my brothers will have had an easier path. I have more questions than answers, and that worries me.
Once food is cooking on the fire and water has been brought from the lake just west of our position, I sit a few feet from where Harper is sleeping. Someone covered her with a threadbare blanket, and several of the freed elves watch her from different places around the camp.
As the sun dips below the horizon and the two moons rise, her sleep is fitful, and nightmares haunt her. Flashes of black lightning snap from her mind to mine.
To keep my wits, I block her thoughts. If I don’t, I fear I’ll run off in a rage to find and kill that bitch who harmed Harper. That is not the way to destroy Venora. It’s been tried, and those warriors were all lost to shadow. It takes a few moments to calm myself.
I’m not one to ask for help, but maybe that’s a flaw in my character. I’m grateful for the extra eyes and would welcome their support if a battle comes, which it likely will.
I remove my sword and belt and rest them beside me. My hand itches to grasp the hilt and keep the first watch, but Jax has taken charge for the first few hours, and Harper may need me if she wakes.
Bert sits across from me and hands me a leg of a small bird that’s been roasted. “It’s slim pickings here.”
Fancor slaps Bert on the back. “That foul woman has poisoned much of this land, and the game with it. We’ll fare better in the mountains or across the sea. Even the fish in Mòr Lake are few now.”
Nainsi sits next to Bert. “These people need care. I don’t know if they’ll make the journey ahead.”
“They can’t stay here.” Fancor finishes a bite of meat. “We’ll take things slow, but which way are we heading?”
Quiet as a mouse, Harper moves and sits beside me.
“You should rest,” Nainsi tells her.
“I can’t. What are the options for ways to go? You said it’s farther to your home now than it was from the village?” She shifts uncomfortably on the hard ground. Her sweet face twists, and her lips are pulled tight.
I pull her off the dampening ground and into my lap.
She doesn’t protest, just tucks her head under my chin and rests her cheek on my chest.
Pushing aside how perfect and right this feels, I say, “We are on the eastern continent of Ear Talamh. The castle where you were held was where my mother ruled before the witch queen conquered these lands. We could travel east, but the desert would be harsh on you, and many of the elves would perish in their current condition. Beyond the desert is an ocean that swallowed up miles of land centuries ago. It is shallow, but to walk on the lost land holds its own dangers. Beyond that is an ocean, but there’s no port to find a ship.
“Then we go west.” Fancor sounds grim.
Nainsi says, “Will you not go to your own home, Fancor? It might be better for your health to portal to the Great Mountains range and bid our plight farewell.”
I can’t disagree with Nainsi. The dwarf would be safer if he went home. This is not his fight. When he looks at me, I nod, hoping he knows I’d not blame him for moving on with his life. His coming this far was a gift.
Fancor’s gaze softens as he settles his attention on Harper. “If you can use my sword, I’ll see this through. I’ll send word to my people of our quest.”
“How will you do that?” Harper shifts to look at the dwarf.
Blushing, Fancor smiles. “Dwarves have a way with creatures. I’ll call an eagle and ask him to carry my message to my king.”
A hint of a smile pulls at Harper’s lips.
“So we go west and find a boat still intact at the old port?” Nainsi shakes her head. “The journey by the Beò Ocean isn’t much better than traveling east. We did it thirty years ago with well-maintained ships and trained crews, and still lost many on the way.”
I know she’s right. I was a child and still remember the sickness of endless days at sea. Mother and Father hid me away below when it got rough. “It will be worse now. The sailors who bring goods from the south and Great Mountains say anyone who ventures across has to go through or south of the Amadan Islands because the monsters of the north are thriving with Venora’s power growing.”
“Are the islands bad?” Harper asks.
Nainsi shrugs. “Not bad. The people of the Amadan Islands are not fond of outsiders and can be a bit testy.”
Bert pats his wife’s knee. “West it is. Do you think we can remain a day or two and try to get these people fed and a bit stronger?” He directs his question to me.
All around the camp, the freed elves are too thin, and many are sick from lack of magic. “They need their magic restored. Staying here is dangerous. The longer we wait, the more time Venora has to heal and return.”
Fancor grunts. “A good night’s rest away from the dark magic of Tobhtá will help them. They’ve been under the witch’s thumb a long time. Tonight, they can breathe. You’ve done a good thing here.”
My heart tells me he’s right, but my gut tightens with the responsibility of all these lives.
Taking Harper in my arms, I stand and grab the straps of both of our packs brought from her world. “How about a soak in the warm lake? It might help you sleep.”
Since she doesn’t protest, I walk out of our circle of new friends and down the hill to the large lake that used to give sustenance to this area when the ruined castle was white and tall and called Priomh Bhaile. It is where I was born, and seeing it in ruin and black with dark magic stabbed me deep in my soul.
“You were born here?” she asks, probably hearing my thoughts.
At the shoreline, I put her on her feet and miss her arms around my neck as she hobbles to the water’s edge.
“It’s safe.” I untie my boots and step out of them. My knife falls out of one boot, and I place it carefully where I can get it if need be.
She looks back at me with wide eyes as I pull my shirt over my head. “They took my shoes.” She looks down at her bare feet. “I guess so I wouldn’t try to run away.”
Stepping out of my trousers, I swallow down my anger at the witch queen and her token man. “They did it to make you feel vulnerable.”
“It worked,” she squeaks out through tears.
“Turn around.” When she does, I unbutton the dress she had looked so beautiful in at the feast. Only now it is in tatters. “I brought you a change of clothes.” I toss the dress on the shore. It’s hard not to cringe at the bruises marking her skin from her neck down the length of her back. Even her legs are cut and bruised. I run my hand along her spine. “I would have given myself to save you, Harper.”
Facing me with her bottom lip puffed out, she shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“You’re very beautiful.” I trace the line of her jaw. Holding my desire for her apart, I lift her and walk into the warm water of Mòr Lake.
“I’m bruised and cut. I’m damaged inside and out. How can you say I’m beautiful?” She clings to my neck and winces as the water touches various scrapes and cuts.
The sand under my feet is soft. I let her legs float down.
She stands, looking up at me with watery eyes of moss green. Those are eyes I could get lost in for a thousand years. “You will heal, mo chroi .” I put my hands on her cheeks and cup her head with my fingers. Closing my eyes, I pull my magic forth.
She grips my hands and pulls them away. “You can’t heal everything with magic, Aaran. What is broken in me cannot be wished away.”
Opening my eyes, I see her strength, and it’s beyond anything I have ever known. “You are very special. Most would have died in that castle. Most would have broken under the strain of torture. If you won’t let me take these memories from you, will you at least let me admire you?”
A small, familiar smile pulls at her lips. “If you have soap in that bag of yours, you can do anything you want with me.” She winks.
My heart expands at that hint of Harper’s humor shining through. Other parts also expand, but those ideas will have to wait. “If you’re not put off by magic, I can conjure a bar of soap.”
She cocks her head, and it’s adorable. Her hair floats in the water like lace. The swell of her breasts breaches the surface. She may not feel it at the moment, but she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She looks around. “From what?”
Stepping back, I cup the water in my hands and call my magic to transform. Light surrounds my fingers and swallows up my wrists.
Harper gasps but doesn’t move away. “Amazing.”
A moment later, I hand her a round pat of soap.
She rolls it between her hands, and when she has a lather, she washes her face. Bubbles float across the lake. Once the dirt is gone, a dark bruise stands out along her jaw, and the underside of her eyes are shaded as well. Reaching up to wash her hair, she winces, unable to lift her arms above her shoulders.
Taking the pat from her, I ask, “May I?” Once she nods, I circle behind her and lather her tangled strands. I massage her skull gently.
“That feels so good.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
This is more intimate than I planned. Once every strand is washed, I hand her the soap. “Lean back and float if you can.”
When she does, the rosy peaks of her breasts make my mouth water. I must look away and concentrate on running my fingers through her hair. I scoop water to pour carefully around her face. “I think it will be difficult to get some of these knots out.”
“Maybe I can borrow a brush from someone.” Her voice shakes, maybe from exhaustion or fear. She runs the soap along one arm and then the other before lathering her chest and abdomen. When she reaches between her legs, I have to close my eyes. My body yearns for this woman.
Braving a look, I’m relieved when suds hide her womanly parts. “Do you want me to wash your legs and back?”
Her throat bobs as she hands me the soap.
I keep my focus on the job, and not the softness of her skin, or the way she quivers as my fingers slip along the inside of her thighs. I wash her feet before helping her stand. When her back is clean, I clear my throat and step away to take my own brief bath.
“I feel better. Thank you.” She takes a few tentative steps toward the shore.
Scooping her up, I carry her to the grassy beach. Calling on wind magic, I dry us both.
When I put her on the ground, she covers herself. Even in the moonlight, her bruises stand out against her fair skin.
Gathering the clothes I brought for her, I hand them over. “I wish I had the opportunity to kill Venora just for what she did to you.” I dress and dig into the bottom of my pack for the leather shoes Selina insisted I take in case they were needed.
She pulls on her jeans and the t-shirt with a funny black mouse on the front. “I think if it was easy to kill her, she couldn’t have done all she has in the last thirty years.”
“You’re right. I still would do anything to take this pain from you.” I hand her the footwear. “Selina said you might need these.”
With a wan smile, she puts them on. “Only a little big, but far better than nothing.”
I rinse off her tattered dress and tear off a few pieces. “When these dry, we can stuff the toes. That should help.”
Standing, she holds out her hand. “I’d like to try to walk back. Maybe if I can make it, the sick will try a little harder to recover.” She shakes her head. “That’s probably stupid.”
Lacing our fingers together, I say, “It’s brilliant, Harper. You mean more to those people than you can ever imagine. They need something to believe in and right now, that’s you.”
“I hope I won’t disappoint them. I’m just a girl from Jersey. I’m no hero.” Her breath is more shudder.
We take a few steps. “You’re absolutely perfect, mo chroi .”
Her legs are weak, and the going is slow, but we walk into camp hand in hand, and she smiles at the elves and even says hello to a few who smile at her.
She is the definition of strength, and she doesn’t even know it.
Back on the short rise in the grass, she lies with her head on the little blanket I brought from her world. With a long exhale, she closes her eyes.
Someone left a worn comb with two teeth missing. A wooden cup steams next to it with the scent of camomhail leaves wafting up. My mother made the luibhe tì whenever were sick as children. All those memories of hard times and simpler times waft through my mind.
Surrounding the camp, Jax and his men are evenly spaced, keeping watch.
Confident that we are safe for the moment, I slip in behind her, wrap my arm around her, and take her hand.
She hugs my arm close to her chest. “She will come looking for me, won’t she?”
There’s no point in hiding the truth from her. “After her failed attempts to understand human magic and what happened today, she’ll be even more keen to capture you.”
“Should we find another way, and let Jax take these people across the sea without me? They might be safer if I am far away.”
I consider it, and I cannot deny her logic. Still… “No. We’ll all stay together. You will be Venora’s main target, but she will want her slaves back or dead. She won’t want them to reach my mother. I think she’d kill them rather than let them get to the western continent of Siar Fàilte. She’ll want you alive, and staying together might keep her from destroying the others.”
The fire smolders as she sighs. “I don’t want anyone to die because of me.”
I hold her more secure. “We would all die to save this world, and you are necessary to that end.”
“Is that why you came for me?” She shakes her head and releases my hand. “Don’t answer that. I’m just feeling vulnerable and sad. It was a stupid question.”
Not letting her pull away, I kiss her damp hair. “I think we should try to comb your hair before you sleep.”
With a long sigh, she sits up and picks up the brown comb.
I sip the tea, and deeming it made from healing herbs that grow wild, I hand it to her as I take the comb. “Drink this. It will ease your sore muscles.”
Sitting with her back to me, she does as I tell her with an indignant huff that makes joy flare inside me. Hurt, sad, and a little broken, my Harper will recover. I know it because I can’t bear a world where she doesn’t.
One small bit at a time, I begin detangling the damp mess. When I hit a knot, I ease the strands apart as gently as possible. “I promised to keep you safe. I broke that promise, but I’ll never leave you in harm’s way, Harper. Domhan needs you, that’s true. It would be a lie to deny that I would have had to try to find and recover you no matter what.”
Her shoulders stiffen.
“That doesn’t mean it didn’t destroy me when Venora took you. The needs of this world are one thing, and my own feelings are something different. Don’t you know what mo chroi means?”
She draws in a long breath with a shake, and her back rises then falls. “I know it means my heart .”
“So then you know how I feel.” I run the comb through the left side of her hair, which is now tangle free.
“In my world, people call each other names like sweetheart and hon all the time. Sometimes it means you like a person, and other times it’s just to be nice or get someone’s attention.” She toys with the ends of her hair and adjusts her seat to give me better access to her right side. In the dimming firelight, her skin looks flushed and warm.
I lower my chin to whisper in her ear. “I would not use the elvish term so lightly. I call you mo chroi because without you, I would be empty.”
She jerks away and winces before looking over her shoulder and meeting my gaze. “I’m human.”
“I’m aware.” I smile. “Let me finish your hair.”
After a pause, she turns away again. “I will go back to my home and my mother when this is done.”
Even though this is not new information, it still hurts. “When that time comes, I will have to deal with it.”
“So you want me for now, and you came to save me because you want me, and when your brothers find the other two humans, you’ll need us to save your world.” She keeps her tone even, as if this is a business discussion.
I comb through the last knot and slip the teeth through her drying tresses again and again. “While I don’t know what will happen in the course of our journey to the Great Gate or what lies beyond for us, I can promise you one thing. I will want you for all time. You are my heart, and if we survive, I would beg for the opportunity to remain with you.”
She leans back against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. “You always say the nicest things, even if they are impossible dreams, Aaran Riordan.”
Part of me knows that what she says is true. I don’t care. The idea of living without Harper hurts too much. “We have now.”
“We have now,” she whispers, taking the comb from my hand and placing it to the side. She lies on her side, eyes clear, watching the flames dim and the camp settle.
Behind her, I hold her until her breath is steady and even, and I’m glad for her to find sleep finally.