Chapter 75 Durvla
Durvla
Alys is whisked away to the infirmary—a small building just beyond the barrier—and we’re told that our horses will be brought through the wards for us.
Chiyo, Tiernan, and I are ushered to a mysteriously well-lit room with bare wooden wall panels.
We sit on one of the pristine, wine-colored couches facing a lean woman with warm brown skin, leather armor, and a sword on her hip.
She regards us with intimidating eyes, a greenish shade of hazel.
Her shiny black hair is in thick braids that fall to her waist. She hurls questions at us about our relationship with Alys—Elviera—our reasons for seeking sanctuary, and even our powers.
We leave out the Basduun detail, of course.
When she’s pleased with our responses, she stands and meanders from the room.
I glance at Tiernan who immediately hides a grimace of pain with an artificial smile.
As I start to say something about him needing to see a healer, the couch sinks in a little.
Chiyo has shifted and is staring in the direction where the young woman just left.
When she turns her bruised face back to me, her thin brows are drawn close together.
She doesn’t say anything, but the woman reenters the room before I can ask anything.
This time she’s with a tall man who is practically just an older version of her; they have the same warm brown skin and hazel green eyes.
He turns to me and halts, taken aback by something.
As the woman tilts her head at him, he blinks as though a spell has been broken and speaks up at last. I focus on his signed words, some of it a tad odd for my mind to translate, but I get the gist of it.
“My sincerest apologies for the interrogation. We just want to keep the Verge safe for all our inhabitants. My name is Dayfyd O’Hara. ”
Dayfyd … the name rings a bell. I recall the conversation I had with Alys back at that marketplace we’d walked through. His eyes are a gorgeous hazel green, she’d said. I blink at him. “You’re Alys’s husband.”
Now he’s truly taken aback. “Yes.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say, smiling. “Your wife has told me about you.”
Chiyo scoots to the edge of the couch. “Is she alright?”
“Stable,” Dayfyd says. “It seems the arrowheads were poisoned, but her Healer’s blood is fighting it off as best as it can.”
The arrowheads were poisoned? But not the dagger …
I glance at Tiernan, who at least isn’t declining, then back to Dayfyd.
He’s still regarding me with a strange expression that I can’t figure out.
“Ava will lead you three to your housing. Try to get some rest, and you can visit the infirmary tomorrow during visitation hours.”
Ava … My head snaps to the lean woman who watches us stoically. So, this must be Alys’s daughter. I get to my feet and extend my hand to Tiernan to help him up. “Tiernan needs to see a healer as well,” I say, ignoring his scowl. “He’s just too stubborn to admit it.”
With a smirk in his direction, I remember him saying very similar words to Alys about me back in Paramount.
“I’ll have a Healer come by,” Dayfyd says.
“Thank you.” Tiernan offers a pained smile.
We start to follow Ava out of the building, but I stop, my heart tugging on me.
I have to know. I turn back to Dayfyd. “My little brother was taken from Cluain Baile by Forayers a few weeks ago, but the rebels managed to rescue him on the way to Paramount. I was told that they’d been intercepted again, but …
Is it possible that he still made it here? Somehow?”
Tiernan places his hand gently on my shoulder, and I place my hand over his.
Dayfyd looks thoughtful. “How old is he? What does he look like?”
“He’s five years old and has chestnut curls and big, brown eyes. He walks, though not well, and he doesn’t speak.”
Dayfyd glances at Ava who shrugs her shoulders. But then she says, “We have a home for children here—the Hatchling’s Nest. We can visit in the morning and see if your brother is there.”
I nod, hope blooming in my chest even though I know it’s unlikely, given the circumstances. “I’d like that, thank you.”
It’s completely dark outside now, but the sky is flecked with countless stars surrounding the full moon.
I can’t make out much of the landscape, but silhouettes of trees surround a mixture of buildings, meadows, and a body of water beneath thick mist. My attention is drawn to the fog as we follow Ava’s long strides.
Tiernan hobbles beside me, too stubborn to ask Ava to slow down—and admittedly my legs are now truly as wobbly as a newborn foal’s.
Luckily, we don’t have to walk too far before we arrive at a two-story house of whitewashed stone.
Ava stops and pulls a key from her pocket to open the door.
“There are a few rooms,” she says, slipping the key into my hand. “Make yourselves at home. I can bring you all some fresh clothing until you can get your own.”
We all thank her and step into the house. A domed light of some sort is nestled in the ceiling, illuminating the sitting room. I stare up at the light until spots fleck my vision. When I face Ava again, she’s fighting a smile.
“Magelight,” she says. “It automatically turns on and off according to your needs.” She shrugs, then turns to Tiernan. “I’ll make sure a Healer has already been dispatched.”
Tiernan doesn’t even get the chance to thank her again before she turns on her heels and strides off with purpose.
Chiyo watches her go, then lumbers further into the sitting room and collapses on the couch.
She puts her feet up, crossing her ankles and pressing her hands over her face.
She mumbles something that I don’t quite make out, but I don’t bother to ask as I take in the rest of our surroundings.
Like the other building, the floors and walls are wood, and there’s a fireplace in front of the couch.
There isn’t much decor, but a few paintings of flora and fauna hang on the walls.
Tiernan turns to me, one hand still over his abdomen.
He pulls me close with his free arm, but his grip tenses before his arm falls away, a grimace on his face.
I huff out a sigh. “Alright, you need to get off your feet and wait for the Healer. Chiyo—”
I don’t even have to say anything more before she swings her legs off the couch and stands up. “In that case, I get to choose a bedroom first,” she signs with a grin before sauntering away.
I put an arm around Tiernan’s lower back, and we walk over to the couch together. He’s favoring his right leg where his pants are slashed open. Thank the gods that he didn’t get hit with any arrows. “Do you think Alys will be alright?” I ask as he sinks into the couch cushions.
“I hope so,” he says. I get down onto my knees and begin to unlace his boots. He reaches out to grasp my arms and shakes his head. “You don’t have to do that.”
I smile at him. “I want to. You’ve helped me bathe—the least I can do is help you remove your shoes.”
He returns my smile, and I take a moment to admire the light in his eyes before I turn my attention back to the task at hand. I unlace his boots and pull them off his feet before peeling his socks off and setting them aside.
“Take your armor off,” I sign gently.
He doesn’t argue, sitting up with a wince.
He’s slow and clumsy, fumbling with the buckles and laces of his leather vest. I lean over to help him.
It’s a slow process, but eventually we get both his armor and his tunic off.
His fair skin is marred with black and blue bruises, the warm undertone faded.
His lower abdomen is bloody, the stab wound still raw.
My stomach roils, and he takes my hand, bringing it to his own cheek before gently kissing my fingertips.
“Don’t worry about the wound,” he says. “Sit with me.” He pats the spot on the couch beside him.
I sit and he turns slightly so that he’s fully facing me. “That shadow shield was brilliant.”
I smile sheepishly. “Too bad I have no clue how I summoned it.”
“You’ll learn. But I hope you can see now that shadow wielding doesn’t just bring death …. You saved my ass out there.”
By sheer luck. Could I truly become good enough at wielding to be useful … purposely? For a few moments, I entertain the notion. Though I have to keep drawing my focus away from his chest, his muscles rippling with each intake of breath.
“My eyes are up here, beautiful,” he teases. “I’m trying to give a wise, motivational speech about your incredible powers.”
My cheeks burn as a little laugh escapes me. “Oh, hush,” I say. A trail of dried blood is tangled in the silver strands of his hair, his lip is split, and I’m almost certain he’ll have a black eye tomorrow. “You’re such a bloody mess.”
He smirks and winces. “It’s not that bad.”
“No, I mean you are literally a bloody mess. Let me at least help you clean up before the Healer gets here.”
I scoot to the edge of the couch to stand, but he grabs my hand. “Durvla, for Lierwen’s sake, relax for a moment. I’m alright, and I’m certain the Healer has seen plenty of bloody messes.”
My chest tightens and my throat swells, and as much as I try to convince myself to move past the emotions, the tears begin to flow. Tiernan sits up with urgency, a grimace on his face. “Durvla, what is it?”
“I thought I was going to lose you for a moment back there.”
He smirks. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Thank the gods.” I chuckle and wipe tears from my cheeks.
He tilts his head side to side, as if stretching his neck. The scars there grab my attention. “When I walked into your dream back in Paramount … Was it … just a nightmare or …”
His body stiffens, a fleeting look of deep pain crossing his face before that familiar mask covers it all. My stomach sinks a little. “A memory,” he says. He’s even paler, if possible. His fingers brush against the scars on his neck. “A story for another time.”