Chapter 10 #2
“Very well,” I sniffed. “If it means I do not have to see that patchwork abomination you call a face.” He just let out a low chuckle and reached up.
I expected some kind of mask or cloth, but all he did was drape his hand over my eyes.
When he pulled it away, everything was dark.
I blinked, then waved my own fingers in front of me.
Nothing. My eyes were open, but they were unseeing, and a spike of panic ran through my stomach.
“What did you do? You blinded me!”
“I simply removed the light from around your eyes,” the Devil answered. “I can easily put it back. Don’t fuss so much, you obstinate creature.”
I let out a loud huff, but did not reply.
My silence grew harder to maintain, however, when I felt his long, warm fingers slide over my arm and up to my shoulders.
When he spoke to Arachne, it was in a language I could not understand, lilting and lyrical, pouring from his mouth like honey from the comb.
The spinner replied in her own harsh voice, and I was forced to simply listen, heart in my throat, not knowing what was being discussed.
They spoke this way for several minutes, each taking turns to lift my arms or tap my shoulders and neck.
Then, I felt Devil’s hands close around my waist, and I became enveloped by a delicate, muted heat, from my neck down to my toes—like the first rays of summer sun after a cold spring rain.
My body shivered and a sudden, soft haze overtook me.
I wanted to lie down and sleep for hours.
The sensation grew stronger and stronger, weakening my muscles, until my knees buckled.
I barely managed to open my mouth and gasp, “Devil!” before plummeting to the floor. The last thing I felt was his arms sliding around me and his muscles going taut against my skin.
When I came back to myself, I jerked forward and sat up, violently rubbing my eyes.
“Easy does it!” came a steady voice from nearby. I quickly realized that I could not see simply because it was dark, not because I was blind. Once my eyes adjusted to the faint light of a dying fire, I saw Aliena kneeling beside me, her moon-like eyes wide and worried.
“Where am I?” I asked, startled at the sound of my own hoarse, harsh voice.
“My house.”
I put a hand to my forehead and groaned. “What happened? We were at…”
“Arachne’s,” said Aliena gently, “being fitted for a gown. Robin said you fainted and he couldn’t wake you.”
“Robin…” I muttered, then realized she was talking about the Devil. “He blindfolded me with some kind of light magyk, but then…it was so warm and I was so tired.”
“And this was after you took off your iron necklace?”
“My medallion!” I choked, hand flying to my neck. Aliena pointed and I saw it sitting on the floor beside the little cot I was on. It appeared to be one of the straw mattresses from her bed, and I was covered in the softest silk blanket I’d ever felt.
“I told him not to let you take it off yet,” Aliena sighed, going to a small barrel with a spigot attached and filling a clay cup with water. “The Arden’s magyk can…affect human bodies. Overwhelm them. The iron was helping protect you from it.”
“But…I have a magyk gift,” I said, looking down at my hands.
“He only gave you as much as you could handle. Don’t worry, the longer you stay in the forest, the more you’ll adjust to it. But I wouldn’t put the medallion back on, since you certainly can’t have it at the revelry.”
“I probably shouldn’t be wearing it anyway. I haven’t been very faithful…”
Aliena smirked and sat on the end of my mattress. “You’re actually a believer, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I said, looking up at her in surprise. “I mean, being raised by the Sisters…but I did come by my faith honestly.”
“I suppose a loving family that never abandons or turns on you would appeal to someone who doesn’t know how messy real families can be,” Aliena chuckled. “No offense meant.”
“None taken. You’re probably right. The faith, for me, has always been like…
an anchor. When I got my gift, the healing magyk, I always pretended it was a gift from the Daughter.
To make myself feel less guilty, I suppose, but also to convince myself that it was my purpose—healing, helping, giving everything to others. ”
“It isn’t?”
“No,” I snorted. “I only asked for it so I could save one person. But Devil warned me there would be a cost, and I’ve certainly paid it.”
Aliena cocked her head to the side. “Devil? Did he tell you to call him that?”
“No, but he won’t tell me his real name,” I explained. “Is it Robin?”
“Oh dear,” Aliena laughed again, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound.
“I think he has us well and truly fooled. Robin is what he told me to call him when we first met, when he was just a child. Others call him Puck. He seems to have tricked the entire Arden into his game. But no one else calls him Devil.” I dropped my eyes and suddenly realized that my clothes had been changed while I was asleep.
I was now wearing a loose, black shift with a green ribbon woven around the scooped neckline.
It was finer than anything I’d ever even touched, but I frowned at Aliena.
“Uh…who…?”
“Don’t worry,” she said, standing up to refill my water.
“Arachne couldn’t stand the idea of leaving you in that filthy dress, so she helped bring you back, then she and I got your clothes changed.
There’s some new things for you too, in there.
” She waved to an ornate wooden trunk sitting at the foot of my little bed.
“How long was I asleep?” I ran a hand through my hair and took the cup of water she offered.
“It’s near midnight now,” Aliena yawned, “and past this old woman’s bedtime.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m not particularly tired anymore though. Is it safe to…go walking around outside?”
“Just as long as you stay in the Hollow, yes.”
While Aliena washed her face in a basin and prepared to sleep, I used her sputtering candle to dig through the trunk Arachne had left.
Most of the clothing seemed hearty and practical—leggings, tunics, and simple wrap-dresses made from beautifully embroidered cotton, wool, or linen.
She had also included warm stockings and, to my utter shock, a near-exact replica of the Huntress moth half-cloak I’d worn every day as a child.
I pulled it out of the trunk with a quiet gasp, marveling at the softness of the new wool and the rich green color.
The interior was lined with impossibly plush white fur, and it fell all the way down to my knees, rather than stopping at my elbows.
Whereas my old cloak had been fastened at the neck by a simple wooden toggle, this one boasted a beautiful copper clasp in the shape of a coiled snake.
I rolled my eyes, realizing who must be responsible, but smiled as I wrapped the cloak around my shoulders, then pulled on a pair of warm stockings and my worn-out boots.
Aliena appeared to already be asleep, so I blew out the candle and pushed aside the curtain of moss hung across her doorway.
The Arden’s night air was chill, but the silk shift and cloak kept me surprisingly warm as I walked around the cottage, trying to get a peek at the moon through the tree tops.
When I came around the corner of the little house, I spotted a strange object hanging from the high limb of a gnarled post oak.
As I ventured closer, I saw that it was, in fact, a pair of wings—so large, their tips brushed the grass.
When the moon briefly came out from behind a cloud, I saw him stretched out up on the branch and gave a gentle tug on the joint of one wing.
“Thank you for the new cloak, featherhead.”
He turned and opened his blue eye to peer down at me, then put on a passable impression of Arachne.
“If she dinnae have a cloak, she’ll be froze solid come springtime!
” Suddenly, he rolled off the tree limb and landed with a solid thud right in front of me.
“And besides, what’s a mothling without her wings? ”
I grinned and pulled up the hood, then held the corners of the cloak and spread my arms, spinning in a circle.
The Arden’s magyk, however, must have still been pulling at me, because I became dizzy far too quickly and nearly slammed right into Devil.
He grabbed my shoulders to steady me, then stood only a few inches away and adjusted the copper snake clasp at my neck.
“Why do you stand so close to me?” I asked quietly, lifting my face to look up at him.
“Why should I not?”
“It’s bad manners.”
He snorted. “I don’t give a fig about your human manners, Mayhem.”
“But you do give a fig about me,” I said, as a statement of fact. “You care about my feelings…”
After a brief pause where something unidentifiable flickered across his face, he answered, “Yes.”
“What if I told you that it makes me uncomfortable, regardless of manners?” He immediately took a step back, and one corner of my mouth pulled into a smile. “So, you care about what I want…but not about what other people think is proper or right?”
“Yes,” he said again, voice low.
“Why? Why me?”
“I told you before, I cannot be the one to…answer certain questions.”
“Because this scheme wasn’t your idea? Who is your master, anyway? I must tell him he’s doing a terrible job keeping you under control.”
Devil let out a soft laugh. “You will meet him tomorrow, and you may tell him whatever you wish. Right now, I must go. I was only waiting for you to wake up.” He waved back at the tree limb he’d been perched on.
“Oh, well…I seem none the worse for wear.”
“You’ve shed your holy iron,” he observed, nodding toward my throat. “Have you left behind the false piety too?”
I scowled. “The piety was never false, and it will be staying.”
“We shall see,” Devil said, spreading his wings.
Without waiting for a response, he took off, and the burst of air nearly threw me to the ground.
He shot straight up into the sky, then released an enormous shower of magyk sparks.
They floated down like glittering snow, bounced off the ground, and turned into the fireflies that seemed to trail him wherever he went, beginning a slow, bobbing dance around me in the moonlight.