Chapter 26
The Ancients saw the shadow of their own deaths in the eyes of the Old Ones
and began to make plans.
—OLD ONES, ANCIENTS, AND THE FOLK
The boat carried them along, steady and silent.
A cloud of moon sprites moved ponderously over the water some distance away, creating a sparkling reflection on the smooth surface.
A cool breeze ran its fingers through Thea’s hair, ruffling the scales on her dress, the muted chime the only sound aside from her labored breathing.
She sat across from Damon, her face as impassive as she could make it, though pain forced her to take shallow breaths.
“We need to make a stop first,” Damon said, his eyes fixed on her face.
“Where?” Suspicion rose up at this change in plans.
He gave her a knowing look. “I can see you’re in pain. I know someone who can help.”
“Pain is irrelevant,” she said firmly. “I have been injured more times than I can count. Bludgeoned, stabbed, bones broken—”
His expression darkened with each word. “Do you think I want to hear this?”
“—shot with an arrow, and nearly murdered while bathing in the river near my home. So, no, princeling, you do not need to worry about me. I’m as resilient as rocks and tough as boar hide.”
“Rocks can split in half,” he said, his eyes moving over her, his brows drawn slightly together, “and a boar’s hide can be pierced with a lance.
You are not invulnerable.” When she would have spoken, he held up a hand to stop her.
“Let me remind you, this is my realm. You can’t find your way without my help.
And right now, I am taking you to a healer. ”
His high-handedness annoyed her, but his concern warmed her at the same time. “Is this healer likely to tell your father our whereabouts?”
“No,” he replied with steady conviction. “She won’t tell anyone.”
Thea couldn’t decide if she was more insulted or touched by his determination to take care of her. She decided to allow both feelings to exist simultaneously, focusing on the work of breathing, which was not easy.
In time, they reached an island, the boat scraping against a sandy shore.
However, there was no carefully raked gravel.
Instead, scrubby weeds grew on the sand.
Thea wondered how plants grew here when she had seen no true growth anywhere else.
There were no silver trees. A soft glow came from windows in a small house with a thatched roof, smoke swirling from its chimney.
Damon disembarked and held out a hand for her.
“Your healer’s house?” Thea asked, her ribs aching fiercely as she allowed him to help her from the vessel.
“Healer, seamstress.” He gave a slight shrug, his hand still holding hers, his other on her elbow. She felt tension humming through him and had the sense he was not as nonchalant as he pretended.
“Did she make my dresses?” She looked down at herself, realizing the metal scales must have given her some protection from her father’s rough handling.
“Yes. You look incandescent in that, by the way.” His eyes glowed with admiration, his hands flexing on her as if he wanted to draw her closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
She had no defense against his compliment in her current condition, and let herself enjoy that one. “Thank you.”
After a moment, he released her, turning and moving to the door. Thea saw that it was inlaid with seashells in a pretty, swirling pattern. Damon knocked once and went in.
Inside, a woman sat by the fireplace sewing. She had dark green hair with streaks of white, her features striking, her blue eyes large in a well-defined face. A naiad.
“Where have you been?” the woman asked, finally looking up. As she noticed Thea in the doorway, her face fell.
“Don’t worry,” Damon said, stepping in and motioning Thea to do the same. “This is Thea. She can be trusted.”
“But to bring someone from the dance here?” the woman said, pushing to her feet. “Have you lost your senses?”
Thea’s stomach knotted. She clearly wasn’t welcome.
“No,” Damon said, taking her waist in a firm grip. “I had merely hoped for help for my injured friend.”
Thea submitted to Damon pulling her toward the woman.
“My name is Azra,” the woman said, her eyes moving over Thea’s face in a careful appraisal. “May I check your injury?”
Thea hesitated, then nodded. She said nothing as Azra felt her lower ribs. The healer’s hands were warm and gentle.
“Are you having trouble breathing?” Azra asked, her voice kinder now as she looked into Thea’s eyes. Probably seeing the signs of pain she couldn’t hide.
Thea swallowed. “A little.”
Azra tilted her head, pressing until Thea sucked in a breath.
“It’s cracked, but not broken. I’ll bind it and then we’ll see how it feels.
Damon, go out and give us some privacy.” When he hesitated, she added, “I need her to remove her gown.” Azra gave him a raised-brow look of challenge. “You want to watch?”
He turned sharply on his heel and strode out.
Azra chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I like to make him blush.” She went to a cupboard that leaned against one wall and pulled out a basket, foraging in it until she found bandages and a little wrapped packet. “A poultice,” she said, holding it up. “For the pain.”
“I don’t mind pain,” Thea said, lifting her chin.
“But Damon minds it.” Azra’s eyes were shrewd as she looked Thea up and down. “He has always detested the suffering of others. He could never be a healer. Doesn’t have the stomach for it.”
Azra helped Thea remove her gown, her manner brisk but careful.
When the dress was off, the woman held it up and looked at it, her eyes wistful.
“Some of my best work. It looks like some of the scales fell off.” Her gaze shifted to Thea.
“I see now why Damon wanted me to make something special. You are unique.”
Azra bound her ribs in an efficient manner, tying the cloth snugly at the end. She put the poultice against the wound, then clucked her tongue as she looked at Thea’s arms. “You’re all purple. Those bruises must hurt. I’ll give the boy a tincture. Maybe he’ll be able to convince you to put it on.”
It occurred to Thea that the woman must think her enchanted like the other dancers. “You overestimate his influence over me,” she said, defensive at the idea. “I’m not one of those love-stricken guests who’ll do anything to be with him.”
“I can see you’re not at all like the others,” the woman said. “Or what I’ve heard about them, at any rate. Never met one, myself.”
“You’ve never met any of the dancers?” Thea asked, wondering why she tensed to hear the answer.
Azra’s eyes cooled. “You mean thralls. And no, he has never brought anyone to see me. He has told me about you, though.”
Thea was surprised by that. “What did he say?”
“Good things,” the woman said with a small smile. “Now, I’ve fixed you up as well as I can. But the dress won’t fit over the bandages.”
Thea looked longingly at the golden scales that felt like armor, but knew the garment wasn’t practical. “Do you have anything you won’t miss?”
“I’ve been working on something,” Azra said, moving to a trunk set against the wall, reaching underneath a pile of fabric to pull something out. It was a filmy white dress, loose and almost transparent. It looked as if it were made from moonbeams and stars.
“It’s too beautiful,” Thea said. “I can’t.”
“You can and will,” the woman said, putting it over her head as if she were a small child.
Thea had no choice but to put her arms through the sleeves.
Azra returned to the trunk and pulled out another garment, a sleeveless robe made from white feathers more beautiful than any Thea had ever seen. “This goes over the dress.”
“Truly, I can’t. It’s obviously meant for someone special.”
“I told you,” Azra said, putting Thea’s arms through the openings and smoothing it over her shoulders. “You are special. And now, you can invite Damon to come back inside.”
Thea gave up on trying to understand this strange creature.
She went to the door and opened it. Damon’s back was to her, his posture tense as he turned. As he caught sight of Thea, his lips parted on an indrawn breath. When he finally remembered to close his mouth, his eyes did not meet Thea’s but went instead to Azra.
“Can you… give us a moment?” Damon said to Thea, his tone apologetic.
“Of course. I’ll be in the boat.”
Damon was only gone for a few minutes, but when he joined her, his face was tight with frustration.
“What did she say to you?” Thea asked, knowing it was none of her concern but curious.
He merely shook his head. As he waved a hand, the boat pushed off, traveling down the river once again. All was still and silent, the silver trees lining the riverbank on both sides.
“I forgot to thank her,” Thea said, feeling a pang of guilt for her rudeness to someone who had eased her pain.
“You’ll see her again, I expect,” Damon said. “Or at least, she thinks you will. She has some of a Seer’s gifts in addition to healing. In fact, she made that chain mail dress for you specifically because she thought you needed extra protection tonight.”
Thea sucked in a surprised breath. She had needed it. “She used no spells to heal me, though.” Veleda sometimes helped with the injured.
Damon watched the water, and Thea had the sense that he was dwelling on some sadness. “She doesn’t have that kind of magic.”
“I didn’t know there were living folk in this place,” Thea said, hoping to draw out more information. “I thought it was the enchanted and their spirits, either shadows or silver trees.”
Damon smiled, finally meeting her eyes. “Some have found themselves here through no fault of their own. Your mother is not the only one to have a curse put on her so that she would sicken if she left, who was forced to come back to this place. Most of them try to avoid attracting my father’s attention. For obvious reasons.”
Thea nodded, knowing there was more he wasn’t telling her.
“Is your pain better?” he asked.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I’m glad you took me there.”
His eyes traveled over her feathery robe and the star-covered sleeves of her garment. “You look even more beautiful than you did in the gold.”
She tried to ignore the helpless flush of pleasure at his compliment. Even now, she never knew how much was genuine. Her ribs ached, and she put a hand to them.
His hand reached out for hers, warm and reassuring. “We’ll be there soon, and then you can rest.”