Chapter 20
The coughing started just before midnight.
Jessa woke to the sound—that familiar, terrible rattling that had haunted her dreams for months. She was moving before her eyes fully opened, throwing off the furs and crossing to Dani’s small room.
Dani was curled on her side, her thin body shaking with each spasm. Even in the dim light from the banked fire, Jessa could see the flush of fever on her sister’s cheeks, the shadows under her eyes, the way her lips had taken on a greyish tinge.
“Dani.” She gathered her sister into her arms, feeling the heat radiating from her small frame. “I’m here. I’m here, sweet girl.”
The coughing continued, harsh and wet. Between spasms, Dani managed to gasp: “Hurts. Jessa, it hurts.”
“I know. I know, darling.” She looked up to find Tarek in the doorway, his green eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. “She’s burning up.”
He crossed to them in two strides, pressing the back of his hand to Dani’s forehead. His expression tightened.
“The medicine,” he said. “Where is it?”
“By my loom. The small bottle.”
He returned with it in seconds. She tipped the bottle, letting a few precious drops fall onto Dani’s tongue. The remaining liquid barely coated the bottom of the bottle.
“That’s the last of it,” she whispered.
He said nothing, but she saw the muscle jump in his jaw.
They worked through the night, the way Tarek had when Jessa herself had been recovering from the snakebite. Cool cloths on Dani’s forehead. Herbal tea brewed from Tarek’s dwindling supplies. The special breathing exercises he’d taught them both, designed to ease the tightness in her chest.
Nothing helped.
By the time dawn began to lighten the sky outside the den’s entrance, Dani had fallen into a fitful sleep, but her breathing was still labored, her fever still high. The flush in her cheeks had deepened to an alarming red.
She sat beside her sister’s bed, Dani’s small hand limp in her own, and faced the truth she’d been avoiding.
The medicine from the trader had been working. For weeks, Dani had been improving, growing stronger, the color in her cheeks healthy rather than feverish. She had foolishly assumed that the change was permanent. But now the illness was returning with a vengeance.
And there was no more medicine.
“I have to go back.”
Tarek looked up from where he was grinding herbs at the kitchen table. “What?”
“I have to go back to the village.” Her voice came out steady, even though her heart was racing. “The cloth I’ve woven is good, better than the first sample, even. If I can trade it to a traveling merchant, I can buy more medicine.”
“The village where your uncle tried to force you into an impossible contract?” He set down the mortar and pestle. “The village you fled from in the middle of a storm?”
“There’s no other choice.”
“There’s always another choice.”
“Not this time.” She looked at her sleeping sister, at the shallow rise and fall of her chest. “Dani needs that medicine. Without it—” Her voice cracked. “Without it, she’ll die. I can’t let that happen.”
“And if your uncle tries to restrain you again? If he refuses to let you leave?”
“Then I’ll find another way. I’ll go to the other merchants directly. I’ll—I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.” She rose, crossing to where he stood. “But I have to try. I have to at least try.”
His expression was unreadable in the pale morning light. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.”
“Jessa—”
“Someone has to stay with Dani.” She reached up to touch his face, feeling the tension in his jaw. “Someone has to be here if she wakes up, or if she… gets worse. Someone she trusts. That’s you.”
“She trusts you more.”
“She needs you more.” Jessa swallowed hard. “Your herbs are helping, even if they can’t replace the medicine entirely. She needs your knowledge and your care. And she needs to know that she’s not alone if—”
If I don’t come back.
She didn’t say the words aloud. She didn’t have to.
His eyes blazed. “I won’t let you walk into danger alone.”
“It’s my village. My uncle. My problem to solve.” She rose onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his mouth, brief and desperate. “Take care of my sister. That’s what I need from you. That’s the only thing I need.”
For a long moment, she thought he would refuse. That he would throw her over his shoulder and barricade her in the den, the way his protective instincts clearly wanted him to.
Instead, he pulled her against his chest and held on, his arms like iron bands around her.
“Come back to me,” he growled against her hair. “Whatever happens, whatever he says or does—come back to me.”
“I will.”
“Promise.”
She thought of all the promises she couldn’t keep. All the ways this could go wrong.
“I promise,” she said anyway.
The forest was quiet in the early morning light.
She moved quietly through the trees, the precious bundle of sunvine cloth wrapped in oilskin and tucked into her satchel.
The fabric was beautiful—even she could admit that.
The threads had taken on a subtle shimmer after the processing Tarek had taught her, and the finished weave glowed with an inner light that seemed to shift depending on the angle.
It was worth a fortune. More than enough to buy medicine, supplies, perhaps even passage to another settlement far from her uncle’s reach.
If anyone would trade for it.
The village appeared through the trees, smoke rising from chimneys as the familiar shapes of cottages and workshops emerging from the morning mist. She paused at the tree line, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Home, some distant part of her whispered.
But it didn’t feel like home anymore. The cottage where she’d grown up, where her mother had taught her to weave, where she’d cared for Dani through countless illnesses, felt more like a trap than a home now. A cage she’d only narrowly escaped.
She couldn’t go there. She needed to find someone to bargain with before her uncle found her.
Instead, she circled around the village’s edge, heading for the merchant quarter where the traveling traders set up their stalls. She didn’t think Halwick would be back yet, but she’d find someone else…
The street was empty.
She stopped, confusion giving way to dread. The merchant quarter should have been bustling at this hour, traders setting up their wares, villagers haggling over prices. Instead, the stalls stood dark and deserted, shutters closed, awnings rolled up tight.
Where is everyone?
“Looking for someone?”
She spun to find Gerhard leaning against the corner of a building, arms crossed, a satisfied smile curling his thin lips. He’d put on weight since she’d last seen him, his expensive coat straining at the buttons, his fingers heavy with rings.
“Uncle.” The word tasted bitter in her mouth.
“Niece.” He pushed off from the wall, approaching with the casual confidence of a man who knew he held all the cards. “Or should I say, runaway? Thief? Contract-breaker?”
“I never signed a contract, and I’m not a thief.”
“The source of your materials says otherwise.” His smile widened. “Didn’t it come from Vultor territory? Did you think I wouldn’t find out where you’d gone? The whole village knows you fled into Vultor territory. They’re placing bets on whether you’re dead or merely… compromised.”
The crude implication made her stomach turn. “I came to trade. The cloth I’ve woven—it’s better than the original sample. Better than anything I’ve made before. If you’ll let me sell it to the merchants—”
“The merchants left yesterday.” Gerhard examined his rings with affected casualness. “Something about unsafe roads and unreliable suppliers. It seems your little disappearing act made them nervous.”
No merchants. No buyers.
The ground seemed to tilt beneath her feet.
“Then I’ll travel to the next settlement. Find buyers there.” Desperation made her voice shake. “Just give me the medicine Halwick left. Please, Uncle. Dani is dying.”
“Ah yes. Little Dani.” Gerhard’s expression shifted, becoming something harder and uglier. “Such a fragile thing. Such a burden to care for. It would be a mercy, really, if she simply—”
“Don’t.” Her hands curled into fists at her sides. “Don’t you dare.”
“There’s fire in you after all.” He sounded almost impressed. “Your mother had that same fire. It’s what made her so useful, once I learned how to harness it.”
“What do you want?”
“What I’ve always wanted.” He stepped closer, and she forced herself not to retreat. “The contract fulfilled. I want the promised bolts of cloth, delivered on schedule, in the quantities I promised.”
“I can’t produce that much. I told you—”
“You said you couldn’t with your old methods.” His eyes glittered. “But you’ve spent weeks in Vultor territory now. You must have learned their secrets.”
“How do you—”
“I have eyes everywhere, girl. They couldn’t get too close but they got close enough to know you’re with him.” His lip curled. “Whoring yourself to a Vultor. Your mother would be so proud.”
“It’s not—he’s not—” She stopped, gathering herself. This was what he wanted. To throw her off balance, to make her emotional and easy to manipulate. “This has nothing to do with him. I came to trade for medicine. If you won’t sell it to me, then I’ll find another way.”
“There is no other way.” Gerhard’s voice dropped to something almost friendly. “The medicine comes from Port Cantor. The traders who carry it only come through once a season. Without my connections, you’ll never find another source in time.”
He’s lying. He has to be lying.
But even as she thought it, she knew he wasn’t. She’d researched Dani’s medicine extensively, trying to find alternatives. It was rare, expensive, and only produced in a handful of places—none of them within easy reach of this remote village.
“What do you want?” she asked again, her voice hollow.
“Return to the village. Take up residence in your cottage again. Produce the cloth.” He ticked off the requirements on his fingers.
“I’ll provide the medicine—one bottle for every bolt of fabric you complete.
You’ll have workers to assist you, and a guaranteed market for your goods. Everyone benefits.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then your sister dies.” He said it flatly, without emotion. “And when she does, there’ll be no reason for anyone to treat you gently.” His smile returned, thin and cruel. “I’ll get my cloth either way, Jessa. The only question is whether you come willingly, or whether I have to be… creative.”
The threat hung in the air between them.
Her mind raced. If she agreed, she’d be trapped here forever, chained to the loom, forced to produce impossible quantities of fabric while her uncle took the profits. She’d never see Tarek again. Never feel his arms around her, never hear his gruff voice softening when he spoke to Dani.
But if she refused—
Dani. Think of Dani.
“Give me time to consider,” she said. “A few days to—”
“No.” Gerhard’s hand shot out, catching her wrist in a bruising grip. “I’m done waiting. Done playing games. You’ll come with me now, or—”
Jessa didn’t think. She moved on pure instinct, driving her knee up into her uncle’s groin with all the strength she possessed.
He doubled over with a strangled cry, his grip on her wrist loosening.
She ran.
The streets of the village blurred around her as she sprinted towards the tree line. Behind her, she heard shouting—Gerhard’s voice, others joining in. They’d chase her. They’d catch her. They’d—
Don’t think. Just run.
The forest swallowed her.
She didn’t slow down. Didn’t look back. She crashed through underbrush, leaped over fallen logs, pushed herself until her lungs burned and her legs screamed for mercy.
The sounds of pursuit faded behind her—they wouldn’t follow far into Vultor territory, not with the stories that circulated about the beast on the mountain—but she didn’t stop.
She couldn’t stop.
Because if she stopped, she’d have to think. She’d have to face the reality of what had just happened. What she’d failed to do.
No medicine. No hope. No way to save her sister.
The tears started somewhere on the upper slopes of the mountain. By the time the den came into view, they’d become full-bodied sobs—ugly, wrenching sounds that tore from her chest like living things.
She stumbled through the entrance and collapsed.
Tarek was there in an instant, catching her before she hit the ground, pulling her against his chest. She heard his voice, rough with concern, asking what happened, what was wrong, whether she was hurt.
She couldn’t answer. Could only cling to him and weep, the weight of her failure crushing her.
“He wouldn’t—” The words came in fragments, broken by sobs. “The medicine—I couldn’t—Dani—”
“Shh.” His arms tightened around her. “Just breathe. Just breathe for now.”
“I failed her.” The admission ripped something open inside her. “She’s going to die because I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t smart enough, couldn’t figure out a way to—”
“Stop.” Tarek’s voice cut through her spiral, firm but gentle. “You didn’t fail anyone. You walked into enemy territory and came back alive. That’s not failure.”
“But the medicine—”
“We’ll find another way.” He pulled back just enough to look at her face, his green eyes fierce with determination. “Whatever it takes, however long it takes—we’ll find another way. Together.”
Together.
The word wrapped around her like a lifeline. She was still crying, still shaking, still terrified for her sister’s life. But she wasn’t alone.
That had to count for something.
“She’s sleeping,” Tarek said softly, as if reading her thoughts. “The fever is high, but stable. She asked for you when she woke earlier—I told her you’d gone to gather herbs and would be back soon.”
“You lied to her.”
“I told her what she needed to hear.” His thumb brushed tears from her cheek. “Just like you’re going to dry your eyes and go sit with her now. She doesn’t need to see you falling apart. She needs to see you fighting.”
He was right. Of course he was right.
She drew a shuddering breath, then another. She let his steady presence anchor her and let the warmth of his body chase away the cold that had settled in her bones during the run through the forest.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
“Neither do I.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “But we’ll figure it out. I promise you, Jessa—I will not let her die. Whatever it costs me, whatever I have to sacrifice—I will find a way to save her.”
She wanted to believe him, but she’d seen the truth in her uncle’s eyes. The medicine Dani needed was beyond their reach, locked behind walls of commerce and distance and cruelty.
We’re running out of time.
She didn’t say it aloud. She didn’t need to. He already knew.