Chapter 7
Those words were enough to break the spell that had fallen over the room, and in an instant, Friar was up and out of her chair, pushing General Otho out the door and shouting to him in rapid speech I was still unable to decipher.
I kind of wished I could understand her, but at the same time, if they were discussing my imminent execution, maybe this was better. Safer.
Whatever she said to General Otho must have been enough, for I soon heard the sound of footsteps retreating from the door.
There was silence—too much silence. My brain screamed. I had to break it.
“How will I die?” The words were a whisper. I blinked, a lock clicked, and Friar was back across the room, kneeling at my bedside.
She shook her head. “Otho won’t tell.”
I raised my eyebrows. I was growing suspicious of the large number of Viscount Adis’s staff who were willing to disobey his rules.
“I can’t tell you how I know.” She added, “But I know Otho . . . well. Let me look at your ribs.” I hesitated. “Now, before the two idiots come back.”
At least I wasn’t the only one who had noticed the lack of intelligence radiating from Markus and Syrus. I acquiesced and lifted my arms as much as I could with my injury, allowing her to begin the delicate process of unwrapping my midsection.
As layer after layer after layer of cloth fell away, the pain abated slightly, and a small tendril of relief filtered in. I had been keeping my wrapping on day and night, for fear of oversleeping as had happened this morning, and my body was protesting.
Once it was all off, and I was bare in front of another person for what was probably only the second time in my life, her hands gently prodded my ribs, her eyes flickering to and from my face as she gauged my reaction and pain levels.
“Nice serpent.”
I grimaced, both because I missed my brother, and because she’d touched an especially sensitive part. “Thanks,” I breathed.
“You’ve got a couple of broken ribs.” She stated the obvious, her eyes darting to my discarded wrappings. “The wrapping prevented them from falling back into place.”
I said nothing.
“Can you go without . . . ?” One flicker of her gaze to my chest should have been answer enough.
I shook my head.
She sighed, but I could also tell she was thinking the same thing.
She handed me a piece of leather and I turned it over gently in my hands, confused.
“Bite on it. I have to place the ribs.”
Always one to do as I was told, I placed the leather between my teeth, biting just as I felt like someone was stabbing me.
The pain was almost unbearable for a moment before it began to lessen.
I eyed Friar, thankful I had experience with this type of pain.
As her fingers danced over my ribs, she paused.
“It really is a beautiful tattoo.”
I didn’t know what to say.
It was okay though, because she was already rewrapping my chest, focusing specifically on the area where my breasts were, skipping the lower ribs, which had been injured.
I gnawed at my lip, feeling like something was crawling in my skin.
I had always started my wrap just above my navel, to ensure my torso was uniform-looking, hiding the curve above my hips.
Friar appeared to know what she was doing, only using about four rounds of the cloth before producing a sharp blade to slice the fabric nearly in half. I gulped, my hope gone as I saw half of my shield, which had been my constant companion for a decade, flutter to the floor.
“I’ll bring you a new one once you are healed,” she explained, her gaze flitting between me and the dark bruises which I could now see on my ribs. The skin also held partially healed lacerations. I had been bleeding, but it was stopped now.
Suddenly, her hand was on my chin, moving my face from left to right. Never one to question authority, I allowed her to do so, even as a chill snaked down my side.
“You’re one of them,” she whispered.
I opened my mouth to ask one of who, but the doorknob starting jiggling.
“We’ve got your supplies!” Markus, or maybe it was Syrus, called through the door.
“That was fast.” The words might have been for me, but they also seemed to just be for herself. She helped me pull my shirt back over my head before unlocking the door.
Too fast, I realized, as the two men dropped a variety of vials and jars on Friar’s table before heading right to me. I didn’t know much about healing, but I had the feeling she wasn’t done. But now she had to be.
“He needs rest. At least three days.” The plea was evident in her voice.
“That’s up to the boss, not us,” one of them grumbled, maybe Markus.
“Tell him if he wants to continue whatever it is he’s doing with him, he needs time. He will die if this continues.”
The scoffs out of their mouths told me everything I needed to know.
I was expendable, and this was not a permanent position.
After my realizations in Friar’s room, I was roughly returned to my own cell, presumably to rest, and I had assumed there was no way the situation could get any worse. But I was wrong.
It might have been the same day, but it also might have been the next one. It was hard to be sure, but my door swung open, Markus and Syrus standing there, something gripped between them.
It took time for me to recognize her dark hair, thin frame, and cheeks dotted with freckles.
“Collum!” The word was past my lips before I could stop it.
“Milo,” she said sadly, that one word revealing nothing about the status of my twin.
Markus and Syrus just chuckled, pushing her forward into the room before swinging the door shut.
Collum rushed forward, brushing the strands of hair that had grown sticky to my face out of the way, the way she always had when I was sick over the years.
“Milo?” I whispered, unsure how much could be heard through the wooden door.
She just shook her head, holding her finger to her lips. “Later.”
A mix of confusion and dread churned in my gut.
Her eyes narrowed on my irises, my fears confirming themselves. But instead of shock, or surprise, Collum just dipped her chin.
“You knew,” I whispered, tears of betrayal gathering behind my eyes as I wondered if any part of my life hadn’t been a lie.
“Not for certain.” She brushed a sweaty strand of hair from my forehead. “But I do now.”
My thoughts turned to the black book, hidden inside the wall of what had come to feel like a prison. “We have to leave.” I grimaced as the words passed my lips. Time must have passed, as I could feel every painful breath as it tore its way through my lungs, but she didn’t immediately respond.
She shook her head. “No. I tried to keep you out of this. It didn’t work.” She pinched her eyes shut in the way I knew meant she was fighting her own tears. “It’s too late now. We have to stay here.”
I didn’t like what she was insinuating. And I didn’t like that I didn’t know any more than I had when we started this conversation.
“But—” I tried to use my hand to motion to my injury, but I just ended up wincing instead, my arm barely shifting. My eyelids began to sink, darkening my view of the room and my cousin. “Are you even my cousin?” The words were weighted, heavy on my tongue.
Collum didn’t answer.
I awoke to shouting, finding not only Markus and Syrus in my room, but two additional guards as well. The two additional guards held Collum between them as Sryus and Markus moved to lift me.
I didn’t have any protests left. None.
I was carried, like a sack of grain, between the two men, as Collum was dragged behind us. She struggled the whole way, yelling, shouting, and she even managed to bite the hand of one of the men carrying her. She was my demure cousin no more.
“Excellent.” Count Adis’s voice was the same as it had always been. Deep, gruff—a promise of pain in the way he held his lips pressed into a thin line the moment we entered the room.
Markus and Syrus dumped me on the floor near where Adis’s shoes tapped an impatient rhythm.
Then, they crossed the room, relieving the other two guards of holding Collum.
Although I still felt pain as I watched them force her to her knees, the green book pressed into her hands, I also felt dismay, remembering how her silence had spoken the truth the night before.
I wasn’t related to Collum.
Though we had been raised together, and she had cared for both Milo and I, there were secrets, ones she had yet to reveal, on how she had come to stay with us.
“Read.” Count Adis’s voice snapped me from my spiral of anger. But instead of hearing Collum’s even voice reading the words of the book, she started arguing.
“I can’t, your honor.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” He crossed the room in two large steps to peer down at Collum’s lightly freckled face. She didn’t flinch.
“Can’t.” Her voice was resolute, and I knew she would fool Count Adis with it, but she couldn’t fool me. I knew the way her nose wrinkled when she lied. “I was not taught alongside my cousin. I know a small bit, but my studies were incomplete.”
“Hm.” Count Adis stood to his full height, his hand coming to brush his beard.
He turned to peer at me, where I lay on my back, my hands gripping my side.
I bit the corner of my lip. His attention flicked to the two men standing behind Collum.
“Return them to their room. My Reader has seven days to teach his useless cousin how to read the witch language. Otherwise, she dies.”
“Yes, sir,” they agreed simultaneously.
“In the meantime, raid every known coven and every formally known coven home in Ralheim. I want every book brought to me—every last one.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his wrist twitching in a way that made me flinch.
“And if we find any Seid, sir?”
Adis’s gaze flicked between Collum and I. “You won’t. All known Seid in Ralheim were put to death during the purge.”
“But, sir, we found this one—”
“Did I stutter?” His voice was nearly a shout as he spun to glare at Markus.
“N-no, sir.” Markus was practically quivering, reminding me that he was just as scared of Adis as I was, something that attaining magic hadn’t changed.
“I thought not.” He smoothed his hands down the front of his coat before addressing Collum.
“Your cousin will begin teaching you tonight.” A glimmer of red passed from his hands to hers.
“Then you will watch alongside him as he reads this green book. Once the green book is complete, I expect you to be able to read on your own.”
Collum nodded her head, keeping her gaze focused on the floor.
I wanted to speak up, to tell Adis that it had taken me years to learn the language of the Seid—years of struggle and pain. There was no way I could teach Collum everything in just seven days.
My throat was too dry, though, and my eyelids were still heavy.
I fell asleep as they carried me back to my room. The jolting, rocking motion becoming part of my fevered dreams.