Chapter 34
I sat on a chaise longue with my feet tucked under me.
I was still wrapped in Enhart’s cloak, his muddied boots drying by the hearth.
The fire crackled as I shifted, combing my fingers through my hair to loosen the clods of dirt and pine needles.
The breeze drifted in through the cracked window, disturbing the candles that had burned down to their wicks.
The dwindling flames flickered, their shadows dancing on the walls.
The prince paced the length of the room, tossing our belongings into our packs by the handful.
He had escaped our encounter with the wightgasts with barely a hair out of place.
The monsters’ claw marks had healed before we had even made it back to the rooms. All that remained was the anger that he took no effort to conceal from me.
It radiated off of him like a flame threatening to scorch anyone who ventured too close.
“You cannot drag her into the night,” reasoned Agnes, hopping out of his path as he stalked toward my bedchamber.
She and the Chancellor had followed us from the moment we entered the grounds, peppering me with questions despite Enhart’s best efforts to shoo them away.
I’d recounted my experience as hurriedly as possible.
Enhart had written a hasty message to Mordric and stuffed it into Sebastian’s hands, ordering him to deliver it to Valnar without delay or lose his head. The librarian didn’t protest.
“If there are still wightgasts in those woods,” said Agnes, “you cannot safely pass through the forest until daybreak.”
“And you think that she’s safe here?” Enhart snapped, emerging with a pile of garments that he stuffed unceremoniously into my pack. “They’ve already taken her once. I won’t let it happen again.”
“They took her from outside our walls,” she replied, her tone even. “The school’s wards were never breached.”
“You think you can escape responsibility because they took her a mere ten feet from your doorstep? You and this entire institution are at fault.”
I sipped from a tumbler of whiskey, the smoky liquid warming me from the inside out as it spilled down my throat. Enhart had forced it into my hands the moment we arrived, assuring me that it would bring me some comfort.
The adrenaline that pumped through my veins after our battle with the wightgasts had faded the moment Enhart had placed his hand on my back.
As if my body recognized that I was safe with him by my side.
The last thing I wanted to do now was return to the darkness.
My eyelids drooped as Enhart and Agnes’s voices blurred together, my head slumping onto my chest.
“The witches released Miss Erramun back to us of their own volition,” Ivor said suddenly, jerking me out of my near-sleep state. A drop of whiskey sloshed over the lip of the tumbler. “Therefore we can assume that they will not try to recapture her for the time being.”
“Witches,” Agnes echoed, fiddling with her spectacles. “I can scarcely believe it.” Waves of shock pulsed off of her.
I shot her a sympathetic glance. She was perhaps the only one who could fully understand how I felt. The knowledge that there were so many witches out there was difficult to swallow, let alone the fact that they had done me harm.
“One man among dozens broke rank to get her out,” snapped Enhart. “We can assume nothing.”
“I’d rather stay the night,” I piped up. The trio stared at me as if they’d forgotten I was there.
I met Enhart’s wary gaze. “They cannot guarantee your safety,” he insisted.
“I know, but I’m exhausted. Please don’t make me go back out there tonight.”
Enhart stared at me for a moment, his gaze searching. Finally, he groaned, raking a hand through his hair. “If that’s what you want. But we leave at first light.”
“I will see to it that your horses are prepared before you leave,” said Agnes, adjusting her spectacles.
The prince’s gaze darkened. “And I will see to it that you regret your negligence.”
The Chancellor sighed, clasping his weathered hands before his waist. “It appears that our engagement has come to an end, Miss Erramun. This will not be the last time that our paths cross, of that I am certain, but for now, the Vice-Chancellor and I shall bid you farewell and good luck.”
My brow creased as he held me in his gaze, his words so assured that I wondered if he had somehow foreseen our next meeting. “I’m sorry that it ended this way,” I replied. “Thank you for everything.”
He nodded once, retreating from the chamber with Agnes in tow.
I raised my eyebrows as Enhart slammed the door shut in their wake. “Are you really going to have them punished? It wasn’t their fault.”
“For tonight, I prefer to think of it as their fault,” he replied. “It relaxes me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Does this mean I’m free to sleep? I nearly nodded off while you were arguing.”
“I noticed,” he quipped, perching on the edge of the chaise longue. “But first, I have some questions for you.”
I stifled a groan. “Alright.”
“Tell me everything you remember about the witches who took you.”
“I thought you said some questions.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Just tell me, please. While your memories are still fresh. Where did they take you?”
“Only because you said please.” My smile faltered as a growl rumbled in his chest. I cleared my throat. “It was some kind of encampment. The air was warm, and from what I could see I wondered if we might be near Helmshath or in the south somewhere.”
“That’s good. How many were there?”
“About two dozen, I think,” I replied, bringing the dram of whiskey back to my lips. My memory felt a little foggy. No wonder, given I had barely eaten in the last three days.
“What did they look like?”
“They looked, er, primitive.”
“Primitive?”
I nodded. “Canvas tents, spears, that kind of thing. Like they would be ready to pack up and leave if someone gave the word.”
“Nomadic?” he asked.
“I suppose. They used something called a rune to trap me after I went through their portal. How come you never taught me about runes?”
“They’re an old, unsophisticated kind of magic. I didn’t want to waste our time.”
“They may be old, but they’re effective.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Did you catch any names?”
I tapped a nail against my glass. “There was Lenora—their leader, from what I could tell, an old crone named Catrin, and a boy named Geraint. He’s the one who helped me escape.”
“Helped you out of the goodness of his heart, did he?”
I shrugged. I recalled how much he reminded me of Arthur. He must have only been a few years younger than my friend was when I last saw him. “He just seemed like a confused kid. I felt kind of sorry for him.”
“I see. And what of the one who gave you these?” He gestured to my cheek, where three matching scratches sullied my sallow skin.
The fumes from the sickly green poultice that Agnes had supplied me with stung my nostrils.
Apparently, she had invented it to protect against infection.
I grimaced. Letlas only knew what could have been lurking beneath the cloaked witch’s fingernails.
“Tell me about him,” Enhart urged.
“I can’t. I never saw his face.”
“Why would a stranger conceal their face from you?”
I blinked up at the prince. “I don’t know.”
“Could it have been someone you know?”
I racked my brain, trying to recall details about the cloaked figure.
The more I did, though, the foggier his image seemed to become.
I finally shook my head. “No, but he’s the one who looked into my mind when they brought me before the others.
At almost every significant event in my life, it seemed. ”
He cocked his head. “How significant?” The air between us was charged as he awaited the answer he already seemed to know.
My voice came out in a whisper. “He seemed particularly interested in the Ealdorfyre.”
Behind the prince, the fire crackled loudly, gilding his silhouette. “It’s a rare gift,” he said slowly, as if choosing his words carefully. “But I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”
I rubbed my wrists, which were still an angry red where the imprint of the rope had been scored into my flesh. It had left invisible scars, too. The memory of how it had invaded my senses, leaving me vulnerable to the will of the strange witches, made me shudder.
“I don’t think that he told the others about it,” I said.
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
“You told me that the Ealdorfyre is a rare gift, but he insisted to the rest of them that I was nothing special.”
“That is a bit strange,” he replied. “Although I suppose we can’t know for certain what he showed them. Or why.”
I took another sip of whiskey, the drink soothing my pounding heart. I thought of Mordric, and how furious he would be when he heard of my disappearance.
“Has Mordric responded to your message?”
He grinned. “No, not even the king’s letters are delivered that fast. By the time he finds out, we’ll be well on our way back to Valnar.”
“Hm,” I said. At least he’d have some time to cool off before I arrived. “So what do we do now?”
He stood. “We return to Valnar, and quickly. The stakes are higher now.”
I glanced up at him. “Why?”
“Because they have your blood. We don’t know what they mean to do with it, but even so, it’s troubling.”
“It is?”
“Blood is a powerful magical conduit. They could use it in curses, dreamwalking, possession even.”
My skin tingled. “Possession?”
He nodded. “We need to get you back to Valnar. There’s ancient magic guarding the city, the kind reserved for places frequented by the royal family. That’s where you’ll be safest.”
“Alright,” I said. “And the portal? It’s not still—”
“Active?” he finished for me. “Gods no. I would’ve burned that forest to the ground if it was.”
I was certain that he wasn’t exaggerating.
“It seems that it was one-way, designed to close once someone entered it. Whatever enchantment was cast upon it was created specifically for you, which is why you were the only one who could sense it.”
I recalled the whispers, the force that pulled me toward the portal like a moth to a flame. “They told me they’d been watching me.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you earlier,” Enhart said, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “When you told me you felt like something was off about this place.”
My eyes snapped up to meet his. I felt an urgent need to put distance between us. When I’d landed in those woods, he’d been the first person to come to mind. Not Mordric. Shame clawed at me from the inside. “Penitence doesn’t suit you,” I said stiffly.
He rolled his eyes. “That’ll do for the evening,” he concluded, swiping the whiskey from my grasp and downing what was left in one gulp. He sauntered off toward the door. “Get some rest.”
“Wait!” I cried as he opened the door.
His eyes widened. “There’s more on the table. Relax.”
“Not that,” I groaned.
“Then what?”
“One of the witches, the old crone, said that she could sense your blood,” I hesitated. “Inside me.”
The air between us seemed to thin as he held me in his gaze. My body went rigid, nerves coiling in the pit of my stomach for reasons I didn’t understand.
He bit his lip, his green eyes twinkling. I felt suddenly ill.
“It’s true?”
My eyes widened as the prince broke out into a dazzling grin, flashing his fangs. My stomach dropped. “You practically drained me, Erramun. Of course I’m still inside you.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “You’re not. It’s not. Ugh, get out.”
“Sweet dreams,” he purred as he slipped away to his quarters.