Chapter 15. Revelations.
My eyes flew open as a dull knock on the door vibrated through the walls of the cabin.
“Cordelia, are you all right?” Francis’ voice hummed through the locked door. “The sun is about to set, we must go.”
“I need a moment,” my voice rasped; the echo rang in my ears.
My back screamed out in pain at my weak attempt to gather myself from the wooden floor I must have fallen asleep on. I swallowed the growing pain as the back of my eyes burned.
“I will prepare our horses,” Francis said. “Come outside when you are ready.”
The floors creaked—the sound echoed through my head, accompanied by a terrible ache—when I managed to adjust myself into a seated position. My body caught aflame in an instant.
Chills went through my bones as the pain persisted. Every breath left me trembling. My left arm screamed out in agony as I wiped the cold sweat off my forehead with the end of my cloak.
“Oh no.” I stared at my blackened skin that started to turn a shade of blue. “Oh no, no, no.”
The injured skin felt rough to the touch, the discoloration moved in every direction, reminding me of the shape of lightning.
“Fuck,” I breathed as a new wave of nausea threatened to break through.
Sweat rolled off my temples, falling onto my wrinkled—covered in dirt—trousers. My throat bubbled, my limbs shook.
I must have had a fever.
“Cordelia?” Francis called from down below.
“I am coming!” I rushed to my feet through the shivers, gathering myself as much as possible: the gloves slipped onto my hands, the ends of my cloak tightly tucked inside of them, hiding the sickness.
“Are you well?” Francis looked me up and down when I opened the door. “You look pale.”
“I am merely tired,” I lied, setting my feet onto the first rung of the ladder.
“Would you like to stay at the cabin for another day?” Concern rang through Francis’ voice.
“No!” I blurted. I needed to get to Roxanne and her mysterious medicine as fast as I could. “I would like to sleep in my own bed.” Especially since my previous day was spent on the floor...
My head spun senseless on my way down the ladder, my hands gripped onto the rungs for dear life.
“You are shaking.” Francis caught me by my waist when my foot slipped off the last rung. “Are you hurt?” His eyes bored into mine as he set me down on the floor.
“I am well, I promise.” The words burned on my tongue. “I’ve had a long day and want to get back to the castle.”
“Are you well enough to ride?” The crease between Francis’ brows deepened.
“Well enough.” I nodded, storming out the main door.
The cold air brushed over my face, soothing the fire that spread through my veins. My legs still shook, making it harder to mount Annabelle, who wouldn’t stop swaying from side to side. Was she always like that?
“Do you need help?” The snow crunched behind me. The sound banged on my ears.
“I am all right.” I squeezed the horn of the saddle, gathering all of my strength before pushing off the ground, forcing myself atop.
“If you need to stop for a break—”
“I am fine.” I ordered Annabelle forward: towards the dark forest, towards the Moon that I prayed to for the strength to reach Roxanne before the inevitable.
Relief washed over me when my eyes caught the proudly standing castle behind the line of dense spruce. My sickness worsened by the time I brought Annabelle to a halt near the stables. It was a miracle I had not fallen off the horse on our journey.
Everything spun and blurred as I walked Annabelle to the stables. I leaned on my horse—mere seconds from collapsing onto the ground. My eyes closed when the darkness of the stables welcomed me into its embrace.
“Cordelia?” Francis’ voice carried through the fog in my mind. “Cordelia—”
Cordelia—
My body felt weightless—
“I cannot believe you two left without consulting us!” Roxanne’s voice rang in my ears like church bells. I was going to be sick from the sound alone.
I forced my eyes open. His face was inches from mine, his eyes—
“We didn’t have time to wait,” he told Roxanne without breaking his stare.
“What’s wrong with her?”
I drew a small breath in, fighting with the nausea.
“I don’t know.” Francis shook his head, his hands catching me in an embrace. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“I am well—” A moan broke through me when Francis' chest pressed against my injured arm. My vision darkened, dozens of stars lingering in front of my closed eyes.
“What’s wrong with her arm?” Roxanne’s cold fingers reached for my tucked cloak; I had no strength to protest. “Oh Moon, what have you done?”
“What in the Kingdom...” Francis’ voice vibrated through me as his hands brought me closer.
“We need to hurry, or she is going to lose her arm.”
“I—” I started, yet the sickness traveled faster than moonlight.
“Fuck,” Francis grumbled, carrying me towards the castle.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” My lips trembled; my eyes fluttered. “I didn’t—”
“Florence!” Roxanne called. “We need your help!” She opened the door to the small study; dozens of differently colored jars sat on each shelf.
Francis carried me in, setting me down on the chair in the corner of the room.
“Find her some moonshine,” Roxanne ordered Francis, frantically searching the cabinets of the study. “Florence!”
Francis nodded, rushing out of the room.
The staircase above the room screeched. The darkness drowned me.
“You have to stay awake.” Roxanne’s fingers squeezed my cheeks, shaking my head left and right. “Stay awake, Cordelia!” She pressed a few Vasyalisk berries against my lips.
The berries slipped into my mouth, the bitterness burned on my tongue. The edges of my eyes watered as the door to the study flew open.
“What is going—” Florence trailed off when her eyes landed on my arm. “Oh Dear Moon.”
“We need fresh snow or ice,” Roxanne ordered at her. “Preferably ice.”
The running boots disappeared into the hallway as Florence rushed to fulfill Roxanne’s command.
“This is going to hurt,” was my only warning before Roxanne applied a thick layer of paste across my arm.
“Stop!” I yelped against my better judgement. “Stop!”
“I got the moonshine.”
My vision darkened when I searched for Francis’ face, his eyes lingered on mine before the darkness pulled me under—
“Put it under her nose, we can’t let her lose consciousness."
No amount of fire could compare with the flame that spread though my hand, reaching my heart. An excruciating scream fought for freedom, scratching my throat, yet silence captured my mind—
“Cordelia?”
My head shook, my wrist caught aflame.
“Cordelia!”
Cordelia.
Cordelia—
The darkness smiled down at me, dozens of stars dimmed into nothingness.
Nothing—
“What are you doing?” echoed through my mind, each word slowly traveling through the fog.
What are you doing?
What are—
“Bringing her back.”
Back.
Back—
The blade fell onto the marble floor. The sound bounced off the walls, ringing in my ears.
My lips numbed when his soft skin brushed over them. Wetness fell onto my tongue. My eyes flew open when the crimson reached my throat.
Francis’ bleeding wrist pressed against my lips as the drops of his blood spilled into my mouth. My healthy hand pressing his injury closer. My nails dug into his skin, clinging onto him like a drowning man to a branch.
“Good thinking.” Roxanne nodded to Francis whose eyes never left mine as my teeth bored deep into his flesh. “I’m almost done,” Roxanne said, setting an empty jar onto the table.
The sickness subsided, leaving nothing but an uncomfortable numbness to take its place. Francis’ blood calmed the flame so slightly, or perhaps it was the berries, I cared not.
My throat soothed as the crimson warmed my insides. I closed my eyes, submitting to the weakness.
It wasn’t long before my nausea returned anew.
I pushed Francis’ wrist away, filling my lungs with air, though the sickness did not step away. As though on a boat, the strong ocean pushed me in every direction, spinning my head drunk.
I’d been on a boat once when Father took me and Brian to see his older brother in a Kingdom across the sea—
A moan pushed past my lips when a new wave dragged me under.
Francis’ hand fell onto my sweaty forehead. “She is still burning.”
“I know.” Roxanne sighed. “We don’t have any herbs at the castle to bring down the fever.”
“I can go to Faris and get some,” Florence’s voice appeared out of nowhere. How long had she been standing there for?
“No,” Roxanne exclaimed as the ice touched my numb hand. “You are not going to Faris by yourself. Francis will go with you.”
“I can’t leave her,” he protested, pressing a cold cloth against my head.
“You know nothing of burns, it is better I stay with her.”
Silence stretched across the room, save for my racing heart echoing in my ears.
“Let’s get her to bed first,” Francis said at last when my eyes shut, welcoming the peace.
A cloud wrapped around me as I floated through space. Weightless was my body, weightless were my thoughts; my head fell onto the soft pillow, the smell of which brought me comfort.
“I can’t believe you knew she’d been burning herself and didn’t tell me,” Francis hissed. My eyelids were too heavy to open, my lips sealed close.
“I didn’t think she would do this!” Roxanne hissed back. “And need I remind you, she burned herself while in the same house as you. How could you not notice?”
“I would have noticed, if you told—”
“This is not the time,” Florence hissed at them both. “And I am truly sick of your constant arguments.”
“You know I am right—” Francis started.
“Don’t.” My lips felt like rocks against each other. “Fight.” I swallowed the dryness in my throat.
“Cordelia,” Francis’ voice was so close. “We brought medicine for your fever.”
The dream that floated through my mind a mere moment ago shattered as I forced my eyes to open.
“Here.” Francis’ hand slipped under my shoulders, lifting me into a seated position.
“This should lower your temperature.” Florence brought a spoonful of dark brown liquid to my mouth.
The medicine held a surprisingly pleasant taste: sweet, but bitter all the same.
“You should rest,” Francis whispered before my eyes closed once again.
The cold wrapped around my arm as my dream fractured into small pieces. My eyes flew open, only to find Roxanne sitting on my bed, tending to my healing injury.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” she whispered. “I have to change your band for a fresh one,” Roxanne explained, setting the paste on my skin. The numbness was no longer there, yet the pain was bearable.
“How long has it been?” I croaked, looking at the covered window. The sun shone bright through the small opening of the curtains, gilding the floors in shimmer, reminding me of Sandra’s golden locks.
“Two nights.” Roxanne shrugged, focused on her delicate work.
I filled my lungs, noting the aching burn was no longer there—with it the fatigue faded as well. “How long will it take to fully heal?”
Roxanne’s lips turned into a thin line. Her voice turned quiet, “I don’t know. I never went this far.” Roxanne met my gaze. “The pain should cease rather soon, but the mark...” She shook her head.
I nodded as the realization of what had happened slowly settled. Panic rushed through my veins, my heart beat faster. I could have lost an arm. I could have died—
“You are fine now,” Roxanne said, as though reading my thoughts, as she wrapped my arm in clean fabric.
“You are going to heal.” She tightened the ends around my elbow, her expression turning serious.
“But if you manage to kill yourself, I swear, I will find you in the next life and murder you myself, do you hear me?”
I chuckled at her expression. “What do you care if I live or die?” I shook my head as the images of her threat floated through my mind.
“Oh, I don’t.” She shrugged, collecting the old wrap in her hands. “But Francis and Florence will be devastated, and I don’t take any insult to them lightly.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Surely you would be upset a little too...”
“A little.” She nodded, fighting her smile. “It would be rather inconvenient.”
“Thank you.” I sighed. “For everything.”
A mere nod was the reply to my sincerity before Roxanne said, “You cannot keep burning yourself, Cordelia.” She stood from the bed.
“William Barren replied to our letter, they are waiting for us on the full Moon, and you must be strong for that meeting.” With that, she left the room, leaving me all alone with my thoughts.
I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, counting every black widow I saw, though it did nothing to settle my heart that fought for freedom.
The memories of my family deep in the grave invaded my thoughts, and I longed for the fevered mind I had before I’d woken. I longed for the pain in my arm that distracted me from agony far worse than this. Yet there was none.
No distraction, no salvation.
The empty hole in my stomach filled with desperation. Yet the tears would not come.
I swallowed the growing lumps, forcing myself out of bed. My skin ached at the movement, and I welcomed the discomfort—anything to get rid of the tragedy that was about to occur.
My legs carried me out of the room, towards the pain, towards the agony I had yet to allow.
There was only one place I wanted to be, only one place that would finish up the deed and shatter my soul into small pieces once and for all.