Chapter 8 #2
“Do you know what happened to him?” Elloven asked as they stared at him passed out on the small bed.
Elizabeth blew out a pursed breath, her hands looped over her head. “We found him like that, in the road. He was stumbling around, delirious, calling for you. Everyone else ran by, but I couldn’t leave him there, knowing what was coming. You said your name was Ella Venn?”
Elloven nodded. “Elloven. One word.” She couldn’t pry her gaze from Jesstin.
He was smothered in mud, but not so much that she couldn’t see the scratches on his face.
She recognized one of them, because she’d been the cause, after their heated exchange in the dressing room.
His other injuries were obscured, but she’d watched how he’d favored one leg, how he’d clutched one side.
Elizabeth shook her head at the hulk of a man lying half on, half off the bed. “Husband?”
“Jesstin? Oh, no.” Elloven blurted a surprised chuckle. “A friend.”
“Hmm.” Elizabeth wiped her hands on her skirts and nodded to herself. It had been her idea to place the rags under him before laying him on the clean bed, and Elloven knew she’d be grateful for it later.
“How did you know where to find me?”
“My mother and I have seen you around. We didn’t know you’d be here in Everspell, but it was as far as we could go with what’s happening out there.”
Elloven just stared in breathless wonder. She still couldn’t quite believe it.
“Well, I best be going. Mother is already cross with me. I expect your ‘friendship’ is about to be tested though.”
“What do you mean?”
Elizabeth whistled and laughed. “He’s going to need this bed, and the floor does not look welcoming.”
Elloven laughed with her, but it was polite, distant. She had no intention of leaving Jesstin’s side, and she didn’t give a care what he, or anyone, thought about it. “I can’t thank you enough. He wouldn’t have made it on his own, not in time.”
“Think nothing of it.” Elizabeth squeezed her arm. “Have you been to Everspell before?”
Elloven had stumbled upon the hidden village by accident that afternoon, and she’d only happened to be there because she’d been on the hunt for more sleeping draught when panic had rung out.
The entire area was protected by the sigils.
A large square, a fountain with violet water in the center, and all variety of establishments along the perimeter were all part of the tucked-away respite.
It made the cloisters seem like hovels. “Not before today.”
“You’ve been staying in the second-to-last havre about a hundred paces from here, near the turnoff to the Magna Annalis.”
That surprised Elloven. “I have.”
“Don’t mind my curiosity. It’s only that most people who travel alone stay in the cloisters.” Elizabeth frowned. “You’re new to the Infinitum.”
“Is it obvious?”
“One learns to read dispositions after a time here. As you saw downstairs, everything in Everspell is free. No currency exchanges hands here, not unless someone is playing under the table. It’s a place for the weary to revive their spirits on their way elsewhere, not to remain.
They told you that you’re only allowed one night a season?
It’s to keep folks from taking advantage.
But while you’re here, I recommend you do.
Mother and I treat it like a holiday, and it almost feels like one.
” Elizabeth tipped a nod at Jesstin. “There’s a clothier across the way, does leatherwork too.
They’ll have something for him. Down in the cellar, you can request a basin and heated water.
As for his injuries, they’ll heal fast. No ill lasts long here, except.
..” Her hand moved to her blouse, where her flame was.
“Don’t recommend the food downstairs, but across the way, there’s a distillery that serves the heartiest soups and passable ales.
Just because we don’t need to eat doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it. ”
Elloven nodded, storing each piece of information like gold.
It was unfortunate she’d run out of the draught, but now that Jesstin was there, she felt.
.. safer, though she had no intention of telling him about Fabrien anytime soon.
She’d only just gotten Jesstin back. She’d be damned if she lost him to some reckless blunder.
“Be cautious, Elloven. We haven’t had a poach night in years, but nothing good has ever followed one.”
“A poach night?”
“When the day comes and goes in a blink. No one has time to find safety. All you can do is be faster than those behind you, because it’s not if sacred flames will be stolen; it’s how many.
Mind the next few nights. There will be many spending their first as a simulcra, and the newly made ones are the most dangerous because they don’t understand. ”
“I’ll bear it in mind.” Elloven had already been in the village when moonrise descended, but she’d never, ever forget the screams of terror from beyond the gates.
“Thank you again, Elizabeth. And please pass my gratitude along to your mother as well. Your kindness will not soon be forgotten, by either of us.”
Elizabeth smiled, bowed, and left.
The room felt different with the other woman gone—tighter and smaller somehow, which was silly, as Elloven had been alone with Jesstin many times.
But it all felt changed now. She sat at the edge of the bed, longing to hear his voice as he told her all about his misadventures.
Whatever he’d been through, he needed rest, and it would be cruel to wake him.
She decided to see after the hot water. The cellar, which she found easily enough, was humid and suffocating.
The woman who greeted her through a cloud of steam thrust an empty basin at her and went back to her business.
A girl, young enough to still need a nursemaid, asked for the name of her room.
Until then, Elloven hadn’t considered why the room she’d rented was called the Emeraldine, but the drapery, bedding, and even the satin cushions on the chairs were all various shades of green.
“We’ll send a boy up with the water once it’s warm,” the girl said. She yanked the basin back. “In this, of course.”
Elloven thanked her and went across the street to the clothing maker.
She had to guess at Jesstin’s size but not his height, which she knew by showing the man where the top of her head hit on his body.
Fortunately, they had a tunic, jacket, and trousers that would fit closely enough, mended after someone had abandoned them.
She waited only as long as it took to check that the seams were all properly sewn.
With a new outfit for him in hand, she climbed the steps back to the east row of rooms. The hall was longer than seemed possible, given the modest facade of the building, and she supposed it was another form of magic.
She opened the door and locked it behind her, but when she turned, her arms went slack and the clothing whooshed to the floor.
Jesstin stood at the window, his shirt hanging at his waist and his suspenders draped over his hips. One side of his torn trousers hung lower than the other, revealing a stretch of torso that felt more intimate than if she’d seen him naked.
His mouth stirred ever so subtly when he turned.
Then he marched toward Elloven, giving her enough time to gather a shaky breath before he stole it with the fierce crush of his mouth against hers.
He sealed it with a savage, desperate moan, his hands grating up her back and into her hair, where he pulled free the ribbon tying it in place.
His palms spread along her jaw and neck, his fingers knotting in her wild mane, as he released another garbled groan she felt through the tangle of their tongues.
Elloven slid her arms around his neck as the past weeks melted away.
He tasted of dirt and sweat, but neither could have kept her from him.
Never before had she been kissed so heartily, so caringly.
His possessive hand on her neck battled between desire and tenderness, squeezing then relenting, as if remembering itself.
Jesstin stopped for air. He regarded her with a heady stare, his head shaking, and then went in for another burning kiss. “I’m sorry,” he whispered between traces of his lips over hers, between more of those vulnerable moans. “I’m so sorry.”
Elloven slid her hands down in confusion, which quickly turned to humiliation. “It’s nothing. It’s just been a long few weeks—”
Jesstin cradled her face and kissed the words away. “Not about the kiss,” he stated fiercely and did it again. She felt his mouth curve into a quick smile she wished she could see.
She peeled out of his grasp so he wouldn’t see her tears. Few things made her feel more fragile than how easy it was to make her cry.
“Elloven. Look at me.”
Elloven shook her head. She felt stupider by the moment, which she was ruining. Four kisses. One could be explained away, but he was telling her not to, so why could she not let him?
Jesstin’s palm turned her face toward his. She forgot her embarrassment, entranced by the sheen in his eyes and the fresh moisture gathering under his lower lids. “I’m only sorry if it’s not what you wanted. I should have asked first.”
“It’s...” Elloven cleared the hoarseness from the back of her throat. “I’m... Don’t be sorry...” She couldn’t finish.
He offered her a soft, downturned smile. “I’ve never been happier to see anyone. And I’ve never, ever wanted to kiss anyone more.”
Elloven cried into his hands like a proper fool, but the strange thing was she didn’t feel like one, not with him.
Even her embarrassment was an instinctive reaction, a reflex.
She was still working through a lifetime of others punishing her for emotion, or discouraging her from expressing any.
Even in their worst moments together, she’d never felt that from Jesstin.