34. A Tale As Old As Time
34
A Tale As Old As Time
Aliza
O ne revolting but weirdly soothing cup of lavender tea later, and I’d disregarded the orders to rest.
The makeshift hospital filled rapidly, and the injuries became worse. Much worse. Soon, even the distant sounds of raging battle were smothered by moans of pain and panicked orders as soldiers were carried in, some looking like they wouldn’t last the hour.
Healers scurried between makeshift stretchers, laid out on the haphazardly cleared floor, tending to the worst of the wounded. Fae, both male and female, lay covered in blood, but also the strangest wounds I’d ever seen.
I abandoned my cup and drifted between the rows, sneaking surreptitious glances at the horrors unfolding around me.
One woman had thorny vines erupting from tattered wounds on her shoulder, coiling around her arm and throat. The vines tightened as a healer battled to remove them, the thorns embedding deeper. Puddles of blood bloomed, running down the female’s neck in rivers as her shaking hands grappled with the twisting branches.
Further along, a man gasped, every breath erupting in a glittering frozen cloud. As I watched, ice crystals formed on the skin beneath the collar of his frosty armour, spreading up his neck. A healer tore off his breastplate, but before he could reach the crystallised chest beneath, the soldier’s breaths ceased.
Fae magic. Not at all like the clever little charms the witches used. This was nature, raw and brutal, wielded as a weapon. And now I was a weapon. Fate had seen fit to gift me with the same element that had melted the flesh from my bones. Why? Revenge? So that I could do to others what had been done to me? That wasn’t who I was at all. I should have been given the powers of those who rushed to help the wounded, the power that had seeped into my chest by another’s hand, easing my breath. I’d dedicated my life to medicine, to healing, to helping, and yet I had been gifted with destruction.
My hands trembled as I revolved on the spot, drinking in the gruesome sights. Fate had betrayed me, but that was nothing new. My time in Neath had been a crash course in betrayal. Just because something had tried to warp me into a killer, it couldn’t change who I was at my core. Maybe I would never heal with magic, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t help in ways I already knew.
Stalking to a cluttered table, I gathered up armfuls of bandages, glass bottles filled with faintly coloured liquids, and a collection of metal tools. I couldn’t do anything about magical injuries, but there was plenty I could do.
A male sat on the floor nearby, cradling a bleeding arm. Easy. I could fix that. I approached with a smile, scattering my bounty on an upturned crate and dragging it to his side.
“Can I take a look at your arm?”
He grunted, averting his eyes as he removed the blood-soaked cloth. I bit back my wince. The wound was deep, cutting into the muscle, but it would be no different to closing up a surgery wound. Only my patient was not an anaesthetised dog; he was very much awake.
“I’m going to clean this up, but it’ll hurt. Hold still for me, okay?”
“Go ahead,” he ground out, still not looking at me.
I examined my bottles, looking for something that would do the trick. One was labelled water. I popped the cork and poured the contents over my hands and into the male’s wound, washing away grime and blood. Pink-stained liquid dripped onto the floor.
“Tell me your name,” I said as I patted the cut with a cloth.
“Cai. Yours?” He grunted.
“Aliza.” I’d never had to develop a bedside manner. Maybe I was better suited to working in silence, but without anaesthetic, inane chatter was the best I could do. “How was your day going before it went to shit?”
His arm twitched. Was that a laugh? “I was planning to ask someone to dinner. I guess I should take this as a sign.”
“Oh? Who is someone?” My hands were steady as I threaded my needle. This, I could do.
“A female I’ve known for a while but never had the balls to do anything about. She’s never looked twice at me.”
He grunted at the first poke of the needle.
“I’m sure that’s not true. But you’re going to have an impressive scar when I’m done with you. All the ladies like a good scar.”
“What about your day?”
I smiled, biting my lower lip as my thoughts strayed to Idris. Luckily for Cai, I could have stitched with my eyes closed.
“That good, huh? ”
For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I laughed. “Pretty much, yeah. He’s out there now, fighting.” The insistent chill of Tir o Gaeaf settled into my bones. My smile faded.
“Then I hope he’s back soon, so you can pick up where you left off.”
“Me too,” I murmured. Idris had promised, but not all promises could be kept. Tears pricked my eyes as surely as my needle pricked Cai’s flesh. “Where were you hoping to go for dinner? I want to know everything.”
My patient talked, and I listened, prompting him to continue whenever he lapsed into silence. It wasn’t just him I was trying to distract. His story kept my thoughts at bay, my fears. They circled like wolves, waiting for an opportunity to dart and strike, but the chatter held them back just enough to allow me to work.
The wound was long, though, and Cai’s tale ended. I had no choice but to fill the silence, and I found myself talking of my life before. That distracted him, learning he was speaking with the mystical Human Queen. He soon forgot to wince, and stared at me with wide-eyed wonder as I tried to explain modern technology. Much the same way Idris had looked as I’d shown him my phone.
My phone had been swallowed up in the fire. All my photos, my memories, gone. What of Idris’ belongings? My stomach knotted with dismay at the thought of his sketchbook. Had he brought it from Nairsgarth to the palace, or had he taken it to Tir o Hydref for our all too brief but blissful interlude? I chewed my lip. He had to have taken it. He never seemed to go anywhere without it. If I had destroyed his drawing of his son…
Finally, the wound was stitched .
“Not bad.” Cai admired the neat row of stitches. Impressive, considering I’d been out of practice for so long. “You could have made it a bit more gruesome so I can impress the ladies.”
“I’ll keep your suggestions in mind for my next patient. Meanwhile, I want you to be careful. Clean it with water, and try to keep quiet for a while. I don’t want to see you back with popped stitches. I don’t suppose you have antibiotics here?”
“What?”
With a grim smile, I said, “Never mind. Any redness or heat, and you find a healer, yeah?”
He nodded as he clambered to his feet. I followed suit. “And tell your lady friend I said hello.”
“If that doesn’t win me dinner, I don’t know what will. Thank you again, and I hope your male comes back whole. Your Majesty.” He bowed and left.
Fear crawled up my spine. I gathered my things and moved along the row, looking for something within my capabilities.
Work kept me distracted. It kept my hands from shaking, kept the icy talons of dread from sinking in too deeply. I worked without a break until the light began to fail, the windows growing dark but for the drifts of snow piled against the frosted glass.
My chest tightened as I peered out of the window at the darkening sky. Still no lightning, but there were no shades either. That had to mean good news, didn’t it?
Magical lights were summoned, and they bumbled around the eaves, bouncing gently off one another. By their glow, I worked some more .
Nightfall brought no peace. For every patient we discharged, two more took their place. There was no need for fire when the press of bodies was enough to warm the room.
Eventually, the healers were forced to turn away those with lesser injuries, reserving space for those who wouldn’t survive the night, or even the hour, without help. There was no more stitching of minor wounds for me. More than once, up to my wrists in gaping wounds, I found myself thinking of Sage and her magical green healing paste. She’d used it on me the day I met her, and my cuts and scrapes had been gone by morning. Such a substance would have been invaluable today, but if the witch had brought any such supplies to Tir o Gaeaf with her, I’d burnt them to ash when my flames ripped through our floor.
Sage was out there too, fighting. I wasn’t exactly fond of her, she was too cold and brusque and manipulative for that, but I didn’t want her to die. That went for Anwir too. He may well be high on the list of the worst people I’d ever met, but I found my thoughts cycling between my three companions. I couldn’t decide if I was glad that the coven were still trekking through the wilderness, days away from arriving in Tir o Gaeaf, if they’d even left Nairsgarth yet. On one hand, a host of witches might have been useful in the battle, but on the other, their absence meant Pansy was far from danger, and I couldn’t be sorry about that.
Whenever someone new was carried in, I strained for a glimpse of hair, hoping I wouldn’t see blonde or black. When I did, my stomach bottomed out, and it was all I could do to remember how to breathe until I managed a closer look .
It was never them. I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing, or bad. Did it mean they were still fighting for their lives, or were they one of the corpses littering the streets?
Work. Work. Work.
People died. Lots of people. The fact registered, but the feelings wouldn’t come. There was a stopper in me, preventing me from falling apart just yet. When I’d failed to prevent the death of Hyacinth, Pansy’s mother, some illogical, wild part of me, ravaged by emotion, had blamed myself, even though I knew there was nothing I could have done. Tonight, it was as though something was preventing that, allowing me to continue working. The moment I stopped, the dam would burst and I would drown.
My back ached. My feet throbbed. My eyes fought to close. There would be no sleep for me, even if I gave in. If I closed my eyes, I’d only see Idris lying in a pool of blood, gutted and glassy-eyed. I wouldn’t bother. I would work. I would do what I could to help, as though it could ever make a dent in the debt I’d accrued by destroying the palace.
I finished dressing a messy abdominal wound that had resulted in internal bleeding and checked the pulse of my passed-out patient. She was weak but alive. With any luck, she’d survive the blood loss long enough for the coven to arrive and dole out their potions. Turning away, I rubbed my forearm over my eyes in an attempt to rid myself of my exhaustion. When I dropped my arm, my eyes went straight to the doorway, which was propped open to let the stagnant, blood-scented air out.
A male with a shock of dark hair looked back at me from where he leaned against the door frame .
“Idris,” I breathed, weightlessness rushing through my body, obliterating the drag at my eyelids.
He was alive.
He smiled, pushing away from the frame as I rushed between the makeshift beds, and held his arms open. I threw myself into them, colliding with a thump.
Who cared if people saw? I was allowed a friend. I was allowed to care for my future brother-in-law. They had no reason to think anything beyond that, and even if they’d witnessed our earlier kiss outside the palace, I didn’t care, because Idris was alive .
Maybe they would think something more, because when I pulled away to peer up at the prince, tears streamed down my face. “I’ve been so worried,” I croaked.
He didn’t smile as he brushed his thumbs through my tears, cupping my face. There was a deep slice through his eyebrow, and dried blood stained the side of his face in a gruesome river, but it was nothing a little water and a few stitches wouldn’t fix. I’d do it myself, just to be near him. To reassure myself that he was really here and okay.
“I told you I’d come back.” His voice was as hoarse as mine. “When I saw the castle burning, I thought…”
Nodding, I placed my blood-caked hand on top of his, where it lay over my cheek. I knew full well what he’d thought. “Let’s go outside.”
Nobody stopped us as I threaded my fingers through his and led him out into the night. After the warmth of the ward, the air was frigid. My feet, still devoid of shoes, sank into ankle-deep snow, but I bit back my gasp. We needed privacy for this conversation, and if Idris knew I had no shoes on, he’d probably scoop me up and carry me back inside. I allowed myself a shiver, sparing a moment to admire the deceptively serene puffs of snow drifting from the sky before I turned to Idris.
“I came back, you know,” Idris said, taking my other hand. I was grateful for the warmth, even if we were both gloved in blood. “When I saw the fire, I came back. I looked for you. They sent me here, and I saw you working.”
“You didn’t stop to say hello?” If I’d known he was alive, I’d have had a few minutes of reprieve from my gnawing dread. Until he left again, and I’d have been straight back to it.
He offered me a small, apologetic smile. “You were busy sewing a male’s arm back together. I didn’t want to interrupt, and I wasn’t sure I’d convince you to let me leave a second time.”
“It was me, Idris.” The words came out in a cloud of frost before I could stop them.
“I know it was you, I saw you.”
“No.” I shook my head. I had to tell someone what I’d done. I had to warn someone before I did it again. “The fire. It was me. It was magic .”
His eyebrows all but disappeared into his messy hair. A trickle of fresh blood ran into his eyelashes, and he blinked it away impatiently. For the longest time, he was silent. His eyes slid away from me, clouded with confusion.
I tightened my grip on his hands. “It was an accident.”
His gaze snapped back to me. “I know. Oh, Aliza, I know.” He stepped closer, his feet crunching the snow. He bowed his head, laying his forehead against mine. My eyes slipped closed at last. I didn’t care about the blood and sweat; he was here with me. “You must have been afraid. ”
“For you. I’ve been scared for you.”
“It’s over now. The wards are up, and my dear old uncle has been driven back with his tail between his legs. Anwir wants to strike Tir o Gwanwyn now, while Maelgwyn is at a disadvantage.”
A relieved breath rushed out of me, clouding my face. I’d worry about Gwanwyn tomorrow. For now, the city was safe. Idris let go of my hands, wrapping his arms around me. I nestled into his warmth, screwing my eyes up against the tears welling behind my closed lids. A metallic tang clung to his usual scent of stormy skies, but I breathed deep, only now acknowledging how afraid I’d been of losing him. What if I’d never had the chance to smother myself in his hold again?
He cupped the back of my head, cradling me to his chest. He wasn’t wearing a breastplate or armour of any sort, only the same clothes he’d had on that morning.
Stupid bastard.
I snaked my arms around his ribs, squeezing tight.
“What are we going to do with you?” he asked. “A fire wielder. Who would have thought?”
I blew a derisive huff out of my nose. “I know, right? The irony. Me and fire don’t exactly get along.” Not even a day ago, Idris had confessed his fear of fire. He’d claimed it was because of what had happened to me, but the way he’d reacted to every suggestion of lighting a fire made me think it went deeper than that. It was a wonder he dared to hold me this close. I wriggled, lifting my chin to stare up at him. “This is bad, isn’t it?”
He shook his head. “It’s a dangerous gift, but they all are, in their own way. You just need to learn how to control it. ”
I didn’t dare look around for a glimpse of the twisted blob of ice that I imagined was all that remained of the palace. “I nearly killed everyone.”
“Nearly. What you did do is save the lives of those people in there.” He nodded to the outbuilding.
“I thought I’d be a healer,” I admitted, tears lining my eyes again. God, would I ever stop crying? “That’s what I should have been.”
“No. You are a phoenix. A beautiful, vibrant phoenix, reborn from the ashes.”
I pressed my lips into a smile. “I thought I was a rainbow?”
“Rainbow plumage.” He ran a hand over my distinctly colourless hair. “A phoenix and a queen.”
I frowned. He answered it with a sad smile.
“When I came back, that’s what I saw. You. I saw a queen. I saw her tending to the wounded. I saw an injured warrior, healing and laughing through his pain, because of her. I saw a female willing to get her hands dirty to make the world a better place for her people.” Idris heaved a sigh. “I love you, Aliza.”
After all that happened today, it was those words that made my heart stumble to a standstill.
“Perhaps I shouldn’t say it, but it’s true. I love you, but you…” He gulped. “You are truly a queen. I won’t be the one to take your wings.”
Wings? He… what?
“Stop with the metaphors, Idris. Are you… breaking up with me?” My mind reeled, struggling to detangle the knot of joy and shock he’d tied me up in. He couldn’t be doing this. Not after everything that had happened. After last night. After confessing love . But. Nothing good came after but .
When he didn’t immediately deny it, I stumbled back out of his arms. The relief that I’d felt at his return, the leap of joy at his words, frosted over, becoming something glacial.
“Seriously? You tell me you love me and dump me in the same breath? Is this because of yesterday?” My voice cracked on the word.
His eyes flared. “No! No, of course not.” He reached for me, but I smacked his hand aside.
“Don’t touch me! I can’t believe this. Got what you wanted, have you?” The tears that had threatened so often finally spilt free. This couldn’t be happening. Idris couldn’t be doing this to me.
“Aliza, please, you know that’s not—”
“Leave then, go on. Go.” Liar. He was a liar, just like his twin. Cut from the same cloth. He’d used me. He’d let me believe what I wanted so I would fall into bed with him like an idiot . I should have known this would happen. I’d avoided relationships my entire life, but I’d thought Idris was different. Wasn’t that what every woman thought about the man who broke her heart? My laugh was sharp and cold.
His expression hardened, but he held his ground. “I’m not leaving like this.”
My lip curled as my hurt twisted into something vicious. “Fuck you. You think I haven’t slept with enough men to know a fuck boy when I see one? You used me. You went to all that effort to make me believe you were my friend, only to use me and throw me away. Don’t fucking bother pretending to love me, Idris. You’re no better than your brother. You’re worse.”
“That is not what happened at all, I swear it on my life.”
“And we all know how much your life is worth, don’t we? Weren’t you trying to fucking kill yourself the night of the ball? ”
I regretted my words the moment they left my mouth, but that didn’t mean they weren’t true. I wouldn’t apologise. At least one of us spoke the truth.
“I suppose you regret putting a stop to that now.”
Even in my fury, I couldn’t lie. “No, because I’m a better person than that. I’m a better person than you, apparently.”
“I know you are, and that is the point.”
I put on a mocking voice. “It’s not you, it’s me. God, Idris. Could you be any more cliché? What’s next? You’re going to tell me that you’re not ready for a relationship but jump into bed with the next female to come your way?”
“I’m not trying to hurt you.”
Well, I wanted to hurt him. “Save your lies. I don’t love you , so no need to pretend.”
Maybe I was a liar after all. I wanted to tell him that I’d spent all day waiting for him to come back, that I’d burnt down the castle because I was scared for him. I wanted to tell him that I did love him, but I wouldn’t. Not now. Not after this. He’d made enough of a fool out of me, I didn’t need to make it worse.
Silence settled as we glared at each other. Or rather, I glared while my breath huffed out like I was an infuriated dragon. Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn’t a phoenix at all, but a vicious, fire-breathing monster.
“You know what the worst part is?” I hissed, clenching and unclenching my fists, relishing the bite of my nails against my palm. “You didn’t need to go to so much trouble. If you wanted a fuck, you could have just asked. There was no need to pretend you cared. It could have been as meaningless as our bond.”
“Don’t say that. ”
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want, thanks.”
“I’m only trying to do right by you.” Idris’ quiet voice carried on the still air. “You want to help people–you’re good at it–and as queen, you can do that. I’m trying to help.”
“Just this morning you told me that we didn’t have to choose the paths laid out at our feet.” And I’d argued against him, trying to convince him that he should accept his destiny. Now, he was doing the same to me, and he was staying behind. How quickly he’d changed his mind about wanting me to choose him.
His face softened. “You were born for this.”
“So were you. Literally.”
“I can’t give you that future.”
“Then go.”
Idris dipped his head, pressing his lips together as though he was biting back his words. When he looked up again, his eyes were soft. “Please don’t hate me.”
I said nothing. I was making no promises, not even to myself. Even so, he waited. “I said go.”
“Aliza—”
“Go!”
A column of flames engulfed me, whipping my hair up from my shoulders. Through the fiery glare, Idris stumbled back several paces. Away from danger. Away from me. He was leaving me. He’d chosen his freedom over me, and he wasn’t giving me the option to make the same choice.
This time, my flames died without the help of ice, leaving me shivering in the snow. Idris gave me one last, longing look, and turned away. Snowflakes quickly obscured him, the night swallowing him up .
Gone.
He was gone. He’d left. He’d taken what he wanted, and he’d abandoned me, here where I had no one. Tears fell unchecked. This world was a prison, and Idris had locked me up in it. I pressed my hands to my wet face.
He’d lied. Everyone had lied. The weight of the truth pressed in, suffocating me, too heavy to draw a breath. Dark and crushing.
Too late, I realised what I’d done.
When air rushed into my lungs, when I blinked open my watery eyes, I was standing in my bedroom. In the human world.