Chapter 21
I couldn’t stop touching the comb in my pocket. Even as we trekked back through the woods toward the compound, all I could think about was the comb and putting it in my hair…and seeing Parisar’s reaction to it.
He seemed to appreciate the times where I made an effort with my appearance. I’d started wearing skirts more often because he looked at me differently when I wore them. He said he liked my new, shorter hair, so he obviously noticed things like that. And I’d caught him looking at the locket when I wore it. I didn’t wear it all the time, but when I did, he noticed. Surely he would notice the comb…
Why did I even care? He’d shown me no further affection since the kiss, and if anything, he’d been more standoffish. He had not once offered to train with me and, in fact, he’d barely come within arm’s reach of me.
And I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t care because there was a war brewing, and my father was still sick, and my mother was fighting this all on her own…and what about Elil? I’d fancied myself in love with the prince. I’d imagined marrying him and our two kingdoms joining and…and that would be good for Eudaimonia, wouldn’t it? It would strengthen us. We would become a united front against the invaders.
Parisar couldn’t give me that.
My feelings for him had to be…some sort of consequence of being so close to him over the past months. He was the only familiar thing to me, the only thing that felt like home. That had to be the reason why I was drawn to him.
Still…I couldn’t stop touching the comb. My fingers tingled as they brushed across the teeth and over the delicate carving. I wanted to put it on. I wanted to run it through my hair, feel the light scrape of it against my scalp.
When I was very young, my mother would brush my hair. I would sit on a small stool in front of her, and she would brush and brush and brush, and then she would stroke her fingers through the strands, and it was the best feeling in the world.
That’s what I imagined it would feel like to run this comb through my hair. It was silly to think that way. I knew it couldn’t possibly feel the same, but I was desperate to feel close to my mother. With everything going on I’d never felt more distant or more alone.
Tain stopped and tossed some wrapped biscuits toward me before sitting down to open a packet for herself. I sat on a log and nibbled the dry food, anxious to keep moving. Neither of us spoke, and I tilted my head as I looked at Tain. She hadn’t said a word to me since we’d met at the bridge. Her face was always stern, but it looked more so. She didn’t look at me, but I had the feeling she was watching me in that predatory way she had. Maybe predatory was the wrong word, but I didn’t know how else to explain it. She seemed to scan the entire forest without moving her head. I had no doubt that if she was stalking prey, she would never miss.
‘Did something happen at the tavern?’ I asked.
Tain grunted in reply, and I didn’t know if that was a yes or a no. It didn’t matter because she was up and moving, and I got the hint. I had been anxious to get back to the compound, but it seemed so was Tain. That meant she had learned something at the tavern, but she wouldn’t be telling me about it.
I re-wrapped my uneaten snack and stowed it in my pack before slinging it back over my shoulders. Without a word, we started back toward home. My hand went into my pocket to check that the comb was still there, and as my fingers brushed the pointed tips of the teeth, I felt relief.
If any of the other members of the group knew I felt this way about a stupid hair comb, they would laugh and sneer at me. Slowly, I had been gaining their respect. I kept up with my chores, and even though I wasn’t as good as any of them in the training yard, I was getting better. They saw my effort and respected it. But this comb had the potential to ruin all that. I shouldn’t have bought it.
I tried to take my hand out of my pocket, but my fingers reflexively tightened, squeezing the comb so that the teeth bit into my skin. I yelped and let go, pulling my hand from my pocket.
Tain spun around, an arrow nocked as she scanned the trees around us.
‘What?’ she barked.
‘Nothing,’ I replied, mortified. ‘A thorn. I pricked my finger on a thorn.’
I held up my finger to show her the pinprick of blood welling on the tip. She didn’t acknowledge it. Tain turned and resumed her fast pace but kept the arrow nocked.
I put my finger in my mouth and sucked, soothing the sting from the comb. I hadn’t realised how sharp it was, and I felt stupid. I also shouldn’t have lied to Tain. She was already strung taut like her bowstring; now she was on even higher alert.
I fought the urge to put my hand back in my pocket. I couldn’t afford to prick myself again and cause Tain more stress. I made a mental note to check the comb over for sharp corners before putting it in my hair. If it could draw blood on my finger, it could easily wound my scalp, and I definitely didn’t want that. The last thing I needed was for my vanity to be used as ammunition against me.
I kept my hands clenched and doubled my effort to keep up with Tain. I wanted to get home as much as she did.
We didn’t take another break, and by the time we got back to the compound my head was aching, and I was feeling unwell. I didn’t say anything. Tain looked as if she could do the same trek twice over and still not look as bad as I felt. The others had returned—all but Parisar and Zeyr—but I didn’t stop to make conversation. I would leave it up to Tain to make her report. All I wanted was to wash off the sweat from our fast pace and relax in the heat of the hot spring. Maybe I would feel better after I washed up.
The warm embrace of the spring went a long way to soothing the constant ache in my head. I was the only one in the water, but I knew it wouldn’t stay that way for long. I leaned against the soft moss surrounding the pool and closed my eyes for a moment, letting the heat soak into my very bones.
My brain still felt fuzzy. I had definitely pushed myself too hard to keep up with Tain, not that she was concerned. Okay, that was mean. She was concerned about my safety which was part of the reason she had hurried us through the woods. After I pricked my finger, she wouldn’t let us slow down for a moment.
I felt bad about not coming clean that the ‘thorn’ was just the comb I’d bought, but not as bad as I would have felt had Tain found out about the comb. She would have humiliated me. Besides, she obviously had urgent news that she needed to share with Parisar…not that he would be back before tomorrow.
Why had we rushed again?
As much as I wanted to linger in the hot water, I couldn’t. With a deep sigh, I submerged myself and then washed my hair first and then the rest of me. I did feel better after scrubbing the dirt of the day off my body. By the time I emerged out of the woods, clean, dry, and dressed, I felt ten times better. I still had a dull throb in my head, but a good meal and some sleep would take care of that.
Dinner was quiet. There were long, knowing looks between Tain and Breust, although I didn’t know what they were about. The group had a way of communicating without speaking, and I was yet to learn the language. I kept quiet too and kept to myself. I wasn’t in the mood to chat, and despite the meal being delicious—Weylei had cooked—my head still throbbed in time with my heartbeat.
I dawdled over the dishes and then made my excuses and went to bed. In the dark room, alone, I pulled out the comb I’d bought. I held it up to the weak moonlight coming in from the window. It glowed, making me smile. The seller hadn’t thought it was worth much, but the more I looked at it, the more beautiful it became.
I turned it over in my hand, admiring the carvings that by now I knew by heart. I checked for any sharp bits, wondering how it was that I managed to prick my finger. I couldn’t find any, despite running my fingers over it repeatedly. Just the simple act of touching the comb, caressing it, made my headache ease. I wondered how much more it would make me feel if I brushed my hair with it.
The comb was small and not intended to be used as a brush. It was designed to slide into the hair and keep it in place but…but it had teeth like a normal comb and there was no reason why I couldn’t use it to brush my short hair. Had my hair been longer, it wouldn’t have worked.
I started at the crown and dragged the comb through my hair to the ends, the teeth gently scraping along my scalp. I groaned. It felt so good. I hadn’t realised just how much my head hurt until the stroke of the comb soothed it. I did it again, sighing this time as the headache lessened yet again. How could this simple act make me feel so good? I remembered how it felt when my mother brushed my hair, but this felt like…more. The third stroke gave me tingles down my spine, but in a good way. The forth made goosebumps prickle my skin, and I shivered at the deliciousness of it.
I continued. Stroke after stroke. Each time, the effects spread until my head no longer ached, and I felt like I was floating. Had I ever felt this good? Had anything ever felt this good?
I swayed, my body feeling lax. I was completely relaxed, right down to my bones. I laid down on my bed, snuggling my head into the pillow. I continued to comb my hair, even as my eyes drooped and sleep called to me.
Finally, with my arm too heavy to continue stroking, I slid the comb into my hair, close to my scalp, and with a sigh, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.