Chapter Eighteen
When morning came, I found my way to the kitchen for breakfast only to find a pensive William absorbed in reading a paper, as he absently stirred his tea, brow furrowed in concentration and hair a wild mess around his horns.
‘William?’ I knocked on the tabletop only for him to almost jump a foot in the air, dropping the paper and bashing both his knees on the underside.
‘Bloody saints !’ he cursed, eyes wide with surprise as he bent forward to rub his injured knees. ‘You move like a wraith, Kat !’
‘Are you all right?’ I tried to conceal my laugh.
‘Me? How is Alma?’ He glanced at the doorway behind me as if she was about to make an appearance, eyes scanning the floor in case she’d reverted to her previous form.
‘She’ll be better after a long rest,’ I lied. The truth was I never knew how Alma would be after a change. But no change had ever lasted this long, and she hadn’t jumped to multiple forms before so effortlessly.
‘What are you reading?’ I asked, rubbing my temples against the threat of a headache as I considered the mess of papers scattered across the table.
‘ The Crow’s Foot .’
‘I’ve heard its nothing but salacious gossip and scaremongering.’ I frowned. A way for rebellion sympathisers to spread fear, so I was surprised to see William so engrossed in it.
‘You sound like Emrys,’ he replied dryly, slapping the pages in protest as he laid them flat and pointed to a section at the bottom of the page. ‘They’ve run a piece on Paxton Fields, about the incidents there.’
‘The illnesses?’ I leant closer, turning the page to see it better. Since when did mortals care about dark illness?
‘No, the missing beings . Two went missing from a village further south and another from a fey settlement to the west. Maris and Beven I believe. They’re hysterical enough to even claim a vesper demon is to blame.’
My stomach dropped to my boots.
Maris and Beven, the two places Emrys said he visited. It had been in his notes, but he’d said nothing about missing beings.
I pulled the paper closer, scanning over the words. Maris and Beven both had Council-run homes for women similar to Daunton. Hale had spoken about them before. He’d run campaigns to try and help fey settlements in both areas.
Something was very wrong. Breaches, sickness and now missing fey. All in the same areas. That wasn’t a coincidence; it was the beginning of something.
If I wanted to be told lies, I’d listen to my own . The memory of that strange woman outside the healing house mocked me as I looked over the paper again. I would be a fool to trust a stranger blindly, but this wasn’t coincidence, and Emrys wasn’t the type to forget such details.
‘Kat?’ William laid his palm flat on the paper to catch my attention.
‘Sorry, William.’ I shook my head. I needed to check on Mr Thrombi. Emrys hadn’t mentioned his condition and hopefully he was slightly more recovered now.
Hopefully recovered enough to tell us something about the anthrux.
‘You should have some breakfast,’ he cautioned.
‘In a minute, I just need to check on something.’ I moved to leave before catching sight of William’s crate of healing tonics by the door. The bottles empty, ready for cleaning.
‘You don’t happen to have any olus weed, do you?’ I asked absently, eyes turning back to the boy where he had resumed reading his paper. Olus weed was rare but powerful in its ability to repel dark sickness. If anyone had some, it would be William.
‘I can check. I did brew a tonic that needed it a few weeks ago.’ He got to his feet to check his inventory immediately.
‘Thank you, William.’ I tried to find some relief in his support of my madness, but again, dark sickness shouldn’t be here at all. I moved to leave, only for that crumpled page Emrys had found on Mr Thrombi’s body to come back to the forefront of my mind.
Reimor . Impossible lost things.
Troubled, I went back upstairs to find the study. It revealed itself where I presumed a guest bathroom was once located. I was relieved to fill my lungs with the comforting smell of books, relishing the heavy air and the quiet of the house after such a chaotic night.
Sickness from contaminated earth wasn’t unheard of, but an anthrux bite was worrying, as was the forest in Paxton Village. I might have seen many cursed illnesses, my mother’s coming to mind most vividly, but she had died at the end of the war when there were still skirmishes involving dark magic.
This land was supposed to have been cleansed long ago – the Council prided themselves on it – but if there were anthrux, dead folk, missing fey and a need for Emrys to investigate, it appeared the Council were just telling more lies.
No wonder Emrys hardly ever appeared in their meetings; he didn’t have time to waste on their games.
I found myself at my desk, flicking through pages of notes. I’d come here to complete my studies, find a cure and graduate, only, I couldn’t focus on anything. That word coming back to me over and over again.
Reimor.
There was something here darker than I could have ever feared. Fey needed my help now, no matter how inconsequential my assistance to Emrys was. I had to help them.
If I wanted answers, the first place I needed to start was Thornfield, and Mr Thrombi.
I moved in the direction of the portal, shelves shifting for me, anticipating my foolishness. I was relieved to see the portal was already running to Thornfield. I hoped Emrys was on the other side with answers, but as I stepped through, I found myself in Mr Thrombi’s room, not the hallway like last time.
Perhaps I had just missed Emrys after all. Mr Thrombi was still unconscious, but his fever had come back. Perplexed, I mixed up a stronger dose of the treatment. Waiting only a moment to see it finally work, the man pulling in an almost relieved breath.
I checked his bandages and saw that he’d been bathed, and the sheets changed, but his skin was oddly cold, strange grey marks had appeared beneath the flesh close to the wound, as if someone had run coal-covered fingers across his pale flesh.
I needed Emrys. This was his area of expertise, after all.
Turning on my heel I opened the healing door, stepping through and raising my foot to meet with the worn wooden floor of the study.
Instead, my boot met with an elaborate rug and I was enveloped by the comforting scent of beasam bark. A warm dampness lingered in the air, as if someone had just finished having a bath.
My head shot up to see a room similar to my own, only far more worn and in disarray. Dark, masculine furniture accented with thick, navy velvet, with fixtures carved to show mythical beasts in battle rather than wildwoods and ancient plants.
Emrys was standing by a large window as the warm morning light spilled over him, catching on the toned contours of his chest and the webbing of silver scars that stretched across his broad shoulders and down his side as he pulled a shirt over his muscular back, the cotton sticking to his still-damp skin. The early-morning light brushed over the streaks of scarring across his chest and throat, tracing a path down his abdomen. Some curving around the indentations of his muscles, others cutting harshly through them. A strange map that went right down to the waistband of his half-unbuttoned trousers and probably further.
A treacherous gasp slipped from my lips, sounding more like a wanton cry in the stillness of the room.
He turned towards the sound the same moment I tried to dart back out the door, only to trip over my own feet, tumbling out into the hallway, crashing into the opposite wall. An involuntary shriek left my lips as cupboards in the hallway rattled with the house’s laughter.
‘Kat?’ Emrys voice was gruff, caught somewhere between confusion and amusement.
A moment earlier and I could have caught him bathing or, worse, naked. My cheeks flamed at the thought as I grasped foolishly for words, rolling over to get my knees beneath me as I continued to be tangled in my own blasted skirts.
‘I … I was coming to find you.’ I pushed stray strands of hair behind my ears as I looked up to see him filling his bedroom doorway, his shirt still mercilessly open.
‘The house likes to play tricks.’ He crouched before me, hand extended to help me up. Wet hair falling across his forehead, his eyes soft grey, a wicked grin on his lips making him appear almost boyish.
‘I didn’t know … I wouldn’t have …’ A foolish tangled mess of words fell from my lips, cheeks burning. ‘I’m sorry. I was thinking about—’
You. Thankfully I swallowed that word down to avoid any further mortification.
‘I’ve had worse surprises,’ he commented, taking my hand and pulling me up effortlessly. ‘Releasing beasts from books and now charging into bedchambers. Maybe you’re more dangerous than I first thought.’
The casual playfulness of him in undress stunned me, and I seemed unable to release his hand as I pondered if I’d hit my head.
‘I should be more cautious. There are terrible stories of fates suffered by those who fall victim to fey charms.’ The wickedness in his gaze was something I had to be imagining.
‘They usually exclude Kysillians,’ I replied dryly. Most deeming Kysillians to be too brutish to have any seductive qualities.
‘More fool them,’ he muttered. ‘What seems to be the problem the house thinks needs my attention so intensely?’
‘Mr Thrombi is getting worse. I couldn’t understand the new markings that—’
‘New markings?’ He frowned, something about the severity of the words reminding him of his current state of undress. He buttoned up his shirt and ran a worried hand through his hair.
‘Yes, there are—’ Before I could finish, a ringing started that made Emrys go completely still. His eyes darkening like ink spilling across fresh parchment.
‘Those are the study warning bells,’ he said.