Chapter 70 Durvla
Durvla
Osheen betrayed us.
Taig isn’t safe. He may not even be alive.
Osheen came along on this journey with us, knowing that the Forayers had already been sent in pursuit of my little brother. He’d agreed to spy on us in exchange for the safety of his family.
I hate him so much that it hurts.
The scent of marjoram and a hint of musk floods my nose, and a warm presence surrounds me even as the world jostles and shifts.
My head feels like it’s been split open with an axe, and nausea ripples through me in waves that leave me clutching my stomach.
I groan and the presence around me tightens.
When I try to open my eyes, blinding agony erupts through my forehead. I clench my jaw and swallow the bile that rises into my throat. More tears leak.
The thought that I may never see Taig again rips at my heart, shattering my purpose.
I am weightless, and at the same time, more laden than ever before. What’s the point of continuing this journey? I might as well just lie down in the road and wait for Forayers to pick my body apart like the buzzards they are.
My head falls back against a solid, warm something, and I let unconsciousness tug me under again.
The next time pain lances through my head and my ears, there’s a soft surface beneath me.
I slide my hand out, reaching to feel anything.
Fabric bunches beneath my exploring fingers, and the fresh scent of linen fills my nose.
Something warm settles over my hand, and I almost pull back before Kilkenny’s voice fills my head. “It’s alright. You’re safe.”
Safe. Unlike Taig.
I turn my face into the pillow to stifle the sob that escapes.
A moment later, the soft surface that I’m on sinks in and Kilkenny wraps his arm around me.
The scent of fresh marjoram and peppermint envelopes me.
I focus on the scent, on the weight of his arm around my waist, and his solid form pressed against mine.
Soon I drift off again, leaving behind the hammering in my skull.
The next time I wake, bright, blinding light pours in and everything spins. I lean over the edge of the bed and retch, the bitterness triggering even more nausea. My stomach tries to wring itself dry, competing with the searing, repeated stabbing in my head and chest.
Alys is here, tending to me. I know the gentle touch of her hand and the warmth of her magic.
It trickles into my head as she presses her hand to my clammy skin, and the overwhelming pounding dies down to a subtle throb.
She leads me to the bathing chamber, taking on the brunt of my weight, since my sight is unreliable.
Then, I’m back in bed, my senses still on edge. I partially meet Alys’s steady, grey gaze. “I wish I could take it all away, sweetling,” she says.
My throat swells, and I turn my face away again. I can’t handle her sympathy right now. It only reminds me of how futile this all is. I might as well have stayed in the brig under Paramount.
I don’t realize that I’ve fallen asleep until I awaken to a warm hand on my face. Kilkenny’s lips move, but I don’t make out what he says as I seek sleep again.
It’s that way for a while. I wake, see someone, maybe sip a bit of lukewarm water, then give in to oblivion again.
Over and over until it no longer feels like sticking a hot poker through my ear and into my brain every time I open my eyes.
I draw in a breath. Physically I’m feeling better, but my very spirit still aches.
I slowly roll onto my back, and it’s like the world has been flipped upside down.
Taking a deep breath, I push up onto my elbows, then slowly turn to find Chiyo sprawled out on an armchair.
Her head hangs back, her mouth agape, and her legs are splayed with her arms hanging down at her sides.
Her bum is dangerously close to the edge of the seat.
I fear she’ll slide right off. The sight is so comical, I nearly smile.
The door opens and Kilkenny steps in. A smile slowly spreads across his face as he one-handedly signs, “It’s good to see those brown eyes of yours again.
” He holds a metal pitcher in his other hand, which he sets down on a bureau before walking over to his sister.
He taps her on the shoulder, and she jumps up, her hand moving toward a dagger sheathed in her leather vest.
“Whoa,” Kilkenny says, immediately getting into a defensive stance.
The siblings are just alike—always ready to fight.
Where are Alys and … Osheen? I lay flat again, pressing my hands over my eyes. Saliva fills my mouth, and my throat feels like it’s been scorched. The bed compresses. When I look, Kilkenny is sitting at the edge beside me. Chiyo is gone.
“Alys suggested that you have a nice, hot bath and get some broth into your stomach. I can call for the tub to be filled, if you like?”
A bath sounds wonderful. I push myself upright slowly and lean back against the headboard.
Not wanting to move my head too much, I survey my surroundings with my eyes, but even that makes everything wavery.
The bed takes up most of the small room.
There’s a massive bureau against the wall next to the door, and the curtains behind the bed are drawn, keeping the room dark save for the few candles on the side table and bureau.
To my right, there’s another door—the bathing chamber, I believe—and the walls are covered with gaudy framed paintings of landscapes.
“Where are we?”
“Dead Man’s Inn,” Kilkenny says.
I make a face. “That’s an awful name.”
He chuckles and motions, “It is. But the services are more than decent.”
“How long has it been?”
“Two days,” he says. “No word of any Forayers, raids, or anything like that, though.”
Panic returns as I remember what happened on the cliffs. “Carys’s wristlet.”
“Chiyoko destroyed it and flung it off the cliff.”
I relax and rub my hands down my face. Then I remember the shadows that shot from my hands and I pull them away abruptly.
My hands are weapons … of darkness. A tremor runs through me as I stare down at my palms. The shaking intensifies until Kilkenny takes both of my hands into his.
“Don’t,” I say quickly, my fear spiking. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
He turns my hands over, palms up, and gently runs his thumbs over the map of lines. If he were a palm reader, what would he see? Destruction? Violence? Corruption? Death?
“Kindness,” he says to me. “Selflessness, bravery, far too much self-loathing …”
I stare at his lips, at the words he carefully speaks. “Did you just—?”
“Yes, sorry.” He smiles wryly. “It’s hard not to when you’re thinking so loudly.”
I breathe out the smallest of laughs.
“Now …” says Kilkenny. “I regret to say that you are in desperate need of a bath.”
My jaw drops. “Are you saying that I stink?”
“You’re … a tad ripe.” A small smile touches his lips.
He’s not wrong, sadly. “Alright, then I guess we should get that bath going.”
Kilkenny lowers my hands, but as he stands, he leans over and kisses my forehead.
The gesture is so achingly tender that I don’t know what to say or do.
He pours me a cup of water, and I sip it slowly as he leaves the room.
Once the cup is empty, I very slowly sit up from the headboard, turning so that my legs hang off the bed.
My head is light, so I remain still, getting used to the sensation of sitting up again.
It isn’t long before Kilkenny returns with a wooden bucket of water in hand.
“This is Seren,” he says, stepping aside to reveal a woman behind him.
He discretely fingerspells her name before bending to lift the second bucket of water at his feet.
The fair-skinned woman has short strawberry blond hair and an endearingly crooked smile. She follows Kilkenny into the room.
“Hello, miss,” she says.
“Hello. And thank you.”
“No problem, miss.” They head to the adjoining bathing chamber.
Slowly, I cross one foot over my knee and painstakingly remove my socks.
It takes so much effort, but if I keep my movements unhurried and smooth, it shouldn’t exacerbate my headache or dizziness.
Kilkenny returns just moments later. He raises a brow at me as if to ask how things are going.
“I’m fine,” I tell him.
“Alright.”
Seren smiles at me, and I thank her once more before she leaves the room.
Kilkenny starts to head toward the door as well, but he pauses, turning to face me. “Do you … want to wait for Alys to help you? She’s out gathering herbs at the moment but—”
“No, I’ll be alright.”
But as soon as I stand, everything seems to slowly rotate upside down. I reach back and grip the headboard, steadying myself.
Kilkenny is at my side in no time, his arm around me. “Are you certain?” he asks.
I’m not. I slowly inhale and then exhale. “I’m certain.”
“Alright, at least let me walk you there.”
There’s no point in declining his offer, so I agree, and we head toward the bathing chamber together.
Each step is cumbersome, my limbs feeling oddly separate from my body.
But with Kilkenny’s arm around me and my focus directly ahead, we make it to the room.
It’s a simple bathing chamber with a levered commode and a rather large clawfoot tub.
For a moment, we both just stand there, staring at the water in the tub.
At last, Kilkenny turns to face me. “I can get Chiyoko if you’re comfortable with that. Or we can still wait for Alys, and I can get more hot water once she returns.”
“No, I don’t want to bother Chiyo. Or waste any water,” I object.
Kilkenny visibly battles his thoughts for a moment before saying, “I can help you in and leave you alone. I’ll be a respectful gentleman. Knight’s honor.” He salutes.
A small bubble of laughter slips past my lips, but I immediately rein it in; it’s wrong of me to even smile.