White Hart (21 page)

“And Finn,” I say sadly. “He died for us.”

Cas squeezes my hand. It does something to help the hollow feeling inside me. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises.

Sasha kneels next to me and places a wet piece of linen on my forehead. It soothes the heat of my skin. “Your wound is infected,” she says matter-of-factly. “I tried to clean it out as best I could, but with it being so deep and you spending so much time rolling around in the mud—”

“I was trying to escape,” I say between gritted teeth.

“—it was almost impossible to get rid of the dirt. However, I’ve applied a poultice, and if you drink this tea, it will calm the fever.” She tips her head to one side and raises her eyebrows, but when I take the tin cup from her hand, she breaks into a crooked smile.

“Thank you,” I say. “You could have taken Gwen and ridden away from here. Instead, you risked your life to save me. I’ve treated you—”

“Like pig crap,” she says, pursing her lips together.

I laugh, “I was going to say something else, but yeah, that’s about right.”

She turns the piece of linen over and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious. I’ve not told you everything I know. When you found me, I was alone and scared. I’d just lost my mother. I thought you were going to kill me, and I thought I had to protect my community. Now, I’m not so sure. They left us in the forest after they made us go with them to Halts-Walden. They told us that all they were going to do was find the craft-born and convince her that she needed to go with them. They said that no one would get hurt. I didn’t see your father die. I was waiting for them in the woods. I’m sorry... When I found out that someone had died, and when I saw the frightened face of the girl we took, I felt terrible. I wanted to run away from those people, but I couldn’t leave my mother behind.”

“I understand,” I say.

Tears well in Sasha’s sapphire eyes. “There are things I need to tell you about my people. There’s a reason why they took the girl in your village and it affects you. They wanted you that night, but the girl tricked everyone into thinking she was the craft-born.”

“What is it?” I ask, sitting up a little higher so that I can hear her better.

Sasha’s eyes dart from left to right, and she checks behind her. “Casimir is coming. I will have to tell you another time. Now, drink your tea and rest.”

*

S
asha and Cas take turns reducing my fever with the cold linen and changing the poultice on my thigh. At first my flesh reeked of putrid mould. Sasha scrubbed it clean, ignoring my cries of pain. When my screams rose into the sky, so did a flock of birds as though they were connected to me.

Many times I felt the soft touch of Cas’s hand on my skin, and each time I thought the fever was worsening. Now, I believe it is Cas who stirs something inside me that I never thought I would feel. When I don’t dream of nature, I dream of his grey eyes. Sometimes they merge with the picture of the forest, hovering above the skyline like storm clouds. He chatters to me every now and again, telling me about the pranks his younger brother plays on him, like switching salt and sugar or covering his bed linen in chilli powder.

“My father prefers Lyndon,” Cas says as he sprinkles cool water on my face. “Lyndon is fifteen and already a master of combat. He hunts almost every day. I hunt occasionally, but truth be told, I don’t really have the stomach for it.

“Once, Lyndon and I were sparring with wooden swords. We have to train everyday because Father tells us that we will lead armies into war. Well, I may be older, but there’s not much muscle in these arms.” He stretches out an arm as far as his tunic will allow. It is lithe, but I would never consider Cas to be thin or scrawny, not like I am. “Lyndon usually overpowers me within minutes of our sparring sessions. On this one occasion, it just so happened that Father and Lady Clare were watching us spar. Lady Clare is a member of the court. She is very rich and owns a lot of land in Jakani. She’s also my father’s mistress and Lyndon wanted to impress her.” Cas pulls a face a like a lopsided smile. “To cut a long story short.” He pulls up his trouser leg, and I let out a hiss through my teeth. A long, red, and very ugly scar runs from Cas’s ankle to his knee.

“What did he do?” I breathe.

“He hit my shield so hard the sword snapped in half, and then he proceeded to stab me in the leg with it.”

“He sounds awful.”

Cas lets out a hollow laugh. “When you saved me from the Ibenas, you have no idea what kind of service you paid Aegunlund. Imagine a brute like that for a king.”

I suppress a shudder. Cas’s family worsens by the second. “Why would anyone treat a brother like that? I grew up wishing for a brother my entire life.”

Cas’s face breaks into a broad grin. “Then
I
shall be your big brother. Imagine what we would get up to.”

My stomach sinks in complete mortification. To think of the kind of sensations I get from just Cas’s touch, and he considers me a
sister
. I feel the blood drain from my face, and I long for the soil to pull me under, out of sight, where no one will
ever
find me.

Sasha saves me. “Casimir, why don’t you make the fire and start roasting the rabbit? Mae needs to eat, and I need to change her dressing.” She winks at me when Cas walks away.

“You heard that?” I ask.

She lets out a sigh as she peels away the linen covering my wound. “That boy has no idea what he’s saying. You should tell him how you feel before it is too late.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before he finds and marries that Ellen girl.” She lowers her voice to barely above a whisper. “He still believes she is the craft-born and you are an average girl. If he knew the truth—”

“He’d be forced to marry a girl he thinks of as a
sister
,” I reply. “Would you want that fate for yourself?”

She gives a little shake of her head. “No I suppose not. But there’s still time for Casimir to think of you differently.”

“But I’ll always know,” I say. “I’ll always know that I was the second choice.” That when he first met me, he thought I was ugly. That he grew to like me as a sister or a friend, not as a girl. A woman.

Click-ick-click-click-ick
.

“It’s back,” Sasha whispers. “I’ve not heard it for days.”

The relentless prowl of the Nix chills my skin. “It’s coming for us because of my injury. We’re vulnerable!”

“We’ve been weaker,” Sasha says. All traces of a smile leave her face. “Your recovery has been short of miraculous, Mae. I’ve seen many of the Borgans suffer fever and illness. None of them have overcome the fever so quickly. It’s almost superhuman.”

Before I have time to ask if Sasha believes it is because of my craft, Cas has the fire started, and the smell of roasting meat distracts me. I’m more interested in my stomach. For the first time in days, I pull myself up onto my feet and lean on Sasha so I can walk over to the fire. Cas rushes to my other side and loops an arm around my waist. I know that it’s just to help me walk, but I can’t help leaning into his warm body and examining the profile of his face, the sharp edge of his cheekbone and the straight nose. When he catches me looking, my cheeks heat, and I avert my eyes to the fire.

“Are you in pain, Mae?” he asks.

I shake my head. Not physical pain. Sasha turns her blue eyes on me and stares me down harshly. I can almost hear the words that look says to me:
Stop making a fool of yourself, Mae
.

When they set me down, the hunger has left my stomach, but I pretend to still be ravenous, and I eat my roasted rabbit. All I can think about is Father and the story he always told about when he met Mother. A light went on in his eyes, and his fingers gripped his cane in excitement. As the years went on, those moments became sadder. He would tell the story and, partway through, forget a small detail—the colour of my mother’s eyes, the shape of her chin—and his eyes would glaze over until he stared into the dark of our hut with misty tears rolling down his cheeks. His heartbreak seemed only to worsen as he aged. The thought of that happening to me chills me bone deep.

What if I fall in love with Cas, and he never loves me back? What then? What if Cas is the only man I ever love, and for the rest of my life, I will know that I once could have had him, but instead I gave him to another and watched how, in one instant, he felt for her something he could never feel for me? What if I am his ugly little sister for the rest of his life? I feel like spitting out my rabbit, because a bitter taste forms over my tongue.

What if I am alone forever?

Sasha drops her bowl, and it clatters over the rocks she had been sitting on. Now, she stands with her hands twitching by her sides. Her face is a grey-white colour that only ill and terrified people have. Her eyes are wide open and bulging, with her eyebrows high up on her forehead. When Cas follows her gaze, he reaches for his sword.

I’m the last to see it. I’ve never seen a creature like it before, and yet I immediately know what it is. It is the Nix, and it has finally attacked us.

I
find myself face to face with the disgusting creature that has followed us for days. It is dark—black as night—and huge, the size of a horse. But it is shaped like a maggot or a fat worm, and wiggles its body as it moves, creating that skin-crawling clicking noise.

Click-ick-ick-ricker-ricker-click-ick-ick.

When it comes closer, I see that there is a hard shell on top of its body, which knocks together as its body squirms across the ground. That is what makes the clicking noise. It moves more quickly than I expected, faster than Gwen at a canter. When it approaches, it lifts its head to reveal a circle of teeth and two wide, gaping black eyes. Its front feet hang limply in the air.

Cas lunges at the monster with his sword drawn, but the thing simply squirts him with a coating of clear, gloopy liquid. I remain transfixed as the gel wraps itself around Cas’s body and holds him tight. Sasha whimpers before turning to run away. Tears stream down her face; she trips and falls, landing heavily on her face. The monster shoots her with its serum, and Sasha quiets.

My body is telling me to run, but my heart tells me to help my friends. Bile rises in my throat as the hideous thing approaches me. I try to lift myself from the rocks, but my leg isn’t strong enough. My only hope is to call upon nature. I summon enough energy to use my craft, pulling strength from the soil around me.

Ha-ha-ha-ha.

It takes me a moment to realise that the laughter sounding in my head comes from the Nix. It is talking to me in my mind.

Craft-born, you cannot summon your little butterflies to fight me. The forest will not come to your rescue this time.

“Why not?” I say. My fingers are trembling, and I don’t know how I manage to summon the courage to ask such a bold question.

Because they know better, White Hart. They know not to cross me. I am more powerful than you will ever be.

“How do you know that?” I force myself to ignore the rapid beat of my heart and lift my chin defiantly. “You don’t know what I will become.”

The thing squirts its serum at me, which sends freezing cold up and down my body. The gel forms around me, tying my legs to my torso. When it has spread from my feet to my neck, it solidifies to create a cage. I am trapped.

Why don’t we take a look at the future for the heroic craft-born, shall we?

The world slips away. The monster before me disintegrates into the earth. My arms are free, and the pain has disappeared from my leg. I’m on my knees with a foamy brush in one hand. On my left there is a bucket of water. I see a lofty hall stretched before me, with red brick walls and glorious tapestries. There is a long mahogany table with half a dozen servants milling around it, laying down silver which sparkles as the sunlight breaks through the tall windows.

Quick footsteps tap along the stone flags of the floor, and before I can even look up to the approaching person, a sharp toe rams into my side, causing pain to burst through my abdomen.

“Get a move on,” says a harsh voice. “The wedding is tonight, and every inch of this floor must be scrubbed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I hear myself say. It was an automatic response, as though I have said it many times before. I give the owner of the voice a quick glance to see a formidable woman in a black maid’s outfit, standing above me with her hands clenched by her sides. She has her grey hair scraped back into a severe bun, and her skin sags at the jaw line. Her foot lifts in threat, so I lower my head and continue scrubbing the floor, my side still aching from the blow.

I remain like that for hours, scrubbing that floor until my knees throb. Eventually, the image fades away, and I find myself basking in sunshine. This time I see the castle from the outside, with its tall turrets of red brick with terracotta slate roofs pointing to the sky.

Surrounding the castle are enormous copper cogs, turning with a thunderous grinding noise. Each one is connected to the other by lengths of something that looks a lot like rope. There are sky-scraping copper turrets; steam pours out the tops, into the bright blue sky. It doesn’t linger. It fades almost as soon as it touches the wind.

“Mae!” says a familiar voice.

I pull my eyes away from the castle to see Cas approaching me. My stomach turns into butterflies when he comes closer. He’s not like the same Cas I know, with skin dirty from camping in the woods. He is regal in his resplendent cream outfit which complements his eyes. His face shimmers with a sun glow, and he smiles brightly. His eyes are wide with excitement. “Can you believe I’m a married man?”

The words hit me like a hammer to the stomach. “No, I can’t.” I force a smile.

“Doesn’t everything look wonderful? Isn’t Ellen beautiful?” He waves a cream-gloved hand over the festivities.

I hadn’t noticed the tent before then, nor the bunting decorating it. There are flower bouquets everywhere, adding bright bursts of colour to the scene. In the middle of it all is Ellen, wearing a pure white gown which trails the ground. She doesn’t seem to care about her gown getting ruined. She is sipping from a glass and tipping her head back in delight at something amusing. Her skin is a perfect alabaster, and her black hair rains down her back in ringlets. She is beautiful.