Chapter 42 #2
“Of course I will. As Sebastian indicated, I know they will be open to a meeting. They have said as much. Thank you,” I say. “I appreciate it more than you know,” I tell Orion.
I don’t look at Sebastian. I don’t have to. I can feel his anger from across the table. It radiates off him. When I do steal a glance, his expression is hard. His jaw is tight and his gaze thunderous.
Sebastian might be angry, but he says nothing.
Good. He isn’t in charge of me. He has no say in what I do or where I go.
“Okay, then.” Orion stands. “You are welcome to stay as long as you wish, Sebastian. This is your safe haven now, too.”
“Thank you,” Sebastian says, his jaw still tight.
We all stand.
“If you change your mind, Isla, you can stay on, too,” Maya says, putting her son down. Maxwell gives a yell of happiness and crawls across the floor.
“Thanks, but I can’t. I know what my role needs to be,” I tell her. I tell him too. I’m not sure how I’m going to get through these next few days.
“It’s time to get some work done,” Orion says, pushing his chair back and standing. “We might have a realm to save, but we still have a homestead to run.”
“Indeed, we do.” Damon laughs.
“I’ll wash the dishes,” I tell them. “And I’m happy with doing chores. It’s the least I can do while I am still here.”
“You don’t have to—” Maya starts to say.
“I insist.”
“I’ll help you, Isla.” Kyrie smiles at me.
“You need to milk Bessie before her udder splits open,” Maya tells her.
“Oh! I forgot all about Bessie needing milking.” Kyrie runs out, grabbing a pail at the door as she goes.
Damon nods and then turns to Sebastian. “I could use a hand splitting the logs behind the barn. I’ve been meaning to get to it, but it’s a big job, if you’re up for it.”
Sebastian nods. “Of course. I’ll be right there.” I can feel his eyes on me again.
Damon nods and walks out.
Orion picks up his son and kisses him, putting him back down, where he gurgles and crawls to the solid table, pulling himself up.
Orion goes over to Maya and takes her into a tight hug.
“I will see you later.” He kisses the side of her mouth and heads out.
I still feel Sebastian’s eyes burning into me as I start to make my way to the dirty dishes.
No!
Leave me be.
“Isla.” Sebastian’s voice is low.
I pause, but I don’t turn; my back goes stiff.
“We need to talk,” he says. “Please…just hear me out.”
“There is nothing to talk about,” I tell him. “We said all there was to say, and you made your decision.”
“It was the wrong one. Please.” The word comes out rough. “Just give me a moment. That’s all I ask.”
“And I’m telling you I have nothing more to say to you.” I put the cup down and turn back to him. “We’re going our separate ways, remember?”
He nods.
“That’s how it has to be, and leaving things as they are makes it easier.”
“Isla, I am begging you. Hear me out. Just once. If you still don’t want to speak to me after, I’ll respect that. I swear it.”
I close my eyes. Kakara help me; the pain in his voice nearly undoes me.
“No, I don’t need to, and I don’t want to. That’s all there is to it.”
A long silence stretches between us.
“Alright,” he says at last. The word is hollow.
He turns and walks away.
I open my eyes and stare at the wall. My vision blurs for a moment, and I blink hard, refusing to let it go further than that.
He’s upset. I know he is. I could hear it in every word; in the way his voice broke on that last syllable. Part of me wants to run after him, to throw open that door and tell him to say whatever it is he needs to say.
But I can’t. I won’t.
He may have come to help me escape the shadowfae castle, but it was too little too late. The damage has been done.
I turn from the wash area and reach for my pack, which I left on the bench near the hearth. I rummage through it until my fingers find the small cloth pouch. The bark inside is dark and dry, and when I press it to my nose, the familiar bitter scent rises up.
Like leather soaked in bile. I give a small smile when I think about Terra’s words because they’re true.
I find a pot hanging from a hook by the fire and fill it with water from the pitcher on the sideboard, then hang it over the embers to heat. I pull a clay cup from the shelf and place a few pieces of the bark inside it.
“Can I use a little of the honey?” I ask Maya. “Just a drizzle for my tea.”
“Of course you can,” she tells me as she fills the washbasin, keeping an eye on Maxwell as he plays. “If you want to talk about it,” she says softly, “I’m here.”
I should say no. I should keep it all locked away where it can’t do any more damage.
But Maya’s eyes are kind.
“It’s just that I thought we had something,” I hear myself say.
“Sebastian and me.” I lean against the stone of the hearth, the warmth at my back.
“I was wrong. Sebastian accused me of lying. Of working together with Snow. It hurt me so deeply that I don’t think that there is anything he can say to fix it.
The way he looked at me.” I shake my head.
Maya winces. It’s a small, quick thing, a tightening of her features that tells me she understands the weight of what I just said.
“That’s…bad,” she says, huffing out a breath. “That’s really bad, Isla. Accusing someone of lying…” She shakes her head slowly. “Of conspiring with the queen.” She makes a noise. “That is almost impossible to come back from, especially after the two of you…” She twirls her fingers in the air.
“Yep…we got quite close.”
Maya studies me for a moment, her head tilted. “Do you have feelings for him?”
The question is quiet and direct, and it hits me hard.
“I did,” I say. “Maybe I still do because these things are hard just to turn off. But I don’t think Sebastian is capable of ever falling in love. Not with me. Not with anyone. He carries too much. He holds everyone at arm’s length, and the moment you get close, he finds a reason to push you away.”
Maya is quiet for a beat. Maxwell yells with excitement and starts crawling toward the cat.
“If you have feelings for him,” she says carefully, “you should probably hear him out. That would be my advice, because you never know. He might surprise you.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she holds up her free hand.
“Chances are good he won’t be able to fix it.
What he said to you… That kind of accusation is poison.
But if you hear him out and he can’t make it right, then you can move on to the next chapter of your life without carrying regret with you.
You’ll know for sure.” She gives me a small, knowing look.
“Regret is heavier than heartbreak, Isla. Trust me on that.”
I look away, toward the pot where the water is beginning to simmer.
“I’ll think on it,” I say.
I wrap a cloth around the handle of the pot and lift it from the hook, pouring the hot water into the cup. The bark darkens immediately, releasing that pungent, bitter smell into the air. I set the pot down and hold the cup between both hands, letting the warmth seep into my palms.
Maya wrinkles her nose. “Why are you drinking caboult tea?”
Maya keeps one eye on Maxwell while she talks. He is crawling after the cat, who keeps walking away every time he gets closer.
“Is that what you call black bark tea in these parts?” My cheeks grow warm. “I’m taking it to be safe.”
Maya’s eyebrows go up. She looks at the cup in my hands, then at the pouch on the bench.
“Can I see the bark more closely?” she asks.
I hand her the pouch. She opens it and pulls out a piece, turning it between her fingers. She frowns.
“Isla, I know a thing or two about herbs and…um…I’m sorry to tell you this, but I don’t think this is black bark. This looks like caboult to me. It is used to help with headaches.”
The warmth drains from my face.
“What do you mean by headaches? No, no…this is black bark.”
“They are very similar. Even the trees look alike,” Maya says, running her thumb along the surface. “But caboult has smoother bark than black bark does. It’s an easy mistake to make. We don’t have too many caboult trees in these parts. They grow further south.” She hands the piece back to me.
South. Where the shifterfae live.
No.
It can’t be.
“It tastes just like black bark,” I say, my voice thin. “Are you sure? This tea is just as bitter. I’ve had black bark tea before.”
“The taste is nearly the same.” Maya’s tone is gentle but firm. “I don’t think this is the right one, Isla.”
My stomach rolls. I set the cup down on the edge of the hearth.
“Do you have any black bark for me to take?”
“I do, but it’s too late to take it now. If Sebastian’s seed has already taken root, nothing except nature itself will dislodge what is happening inside you.”
I nod.
“The woman who got the bark for me is a shifterfae,” I tell her. “They don’t use black bark themselves. They know their fertile cycles from scent alone. She may have gotten the wrong tree, but she couldn’t scent any fertility on me after Sebastian and I spent the night together.”
Maya nods. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, then. It sounds like they have a strong sense of smell.” She widens her eyes. “Especially since they can scent magic. That’s incredible.”
Pregnant. The word sits in my mind like a stone dropped into still water. Surely not. Surely the goddess would not be that cruel to me.
My hand drifts to my belly before I realize what I’m doing. My palm rests flat against the fabric of my tunic, just below my navel. There is nothing different. Nothing out of the ordinary.
I pull my hand away and shake my head.
I’m sure I would know.
I trust Terra’s nose more than I trust black bark tea.
I pick up the cup and pour the tea out into the washbasin. Then I rinse it and put it upside down on the ledge.
I won’t give it anymore thought. There is much to do.