Page 24 of Whisper Woods (Legends of the Whisper Woods #3)

Rafe

“He’s been out too long.”

“Should get a doctor from home.”

“With everything going on, I don’t see them being let in. Too risky.”

“Can I have this? I’m taking this.”

“Put that down! You can’t just take his shit, Edith.”

Vylushkiva . I have no idea why whoever is talking is whispering. They are doing a piss-poor job of it. I can still hear them over the ringing in my head. A pain only to be outdone by the pain radiating throughout my body.

What in the name of the Gods is going on? Why does everything hurt this badly? Why can’t I move? Why can’t I open my eyes?

I feel heavy, weighted down. Panic rises in me far faster than my sluggish brain can take control of. I try again and again to move my body but am only able to feebly jerk under whatever is pinning me. It even restricts my chest, bearing down on my racing heart.

“Hey, hey, hey, baby, shhh.” A heavier weight smothers me. It’s pleasant, though. Comforting. Vylushkiva , it feels good. An earthy scent teases my senses, a big hand stroking my face tenderly. I lean into the touch, rubbing my cheek against the cupped palm. “It’s going to be okay.”

“ Seff?” It hurts to talk, but I need the confirmation that this is real. That this isn’t a fantastically awful dream. A nose nuzzles into the hollow under my ear.

“Yeah, it’s me, babe. I’m here.” He presses a tender kiss to my neck and I shudder a breath of relief.

“Why can’t I see? Why can’t I move?” My voice is threadbare, my throat feels like a thousand and one razor blades have torn it apart. I am so thirsty, my dry, cracked mouth making everything worse.

“Oh shit. Sorry.” I wince as Seff launches into action, the jostling making my head explode with pain. But the weight holding me down loosens and the pressure on my eyes disappears.

Gingerly, I test my new freedom, slowly wiggling my toes and fingers and sliding my arms and legs in almost imperceptible movements, so as not to send that same blinding pain through my skull. I’m on a bed, I realise. One familiar enough to be mine. Once I have confirmation that I haven’t lost the sensations in my extremities, I reluctantly attempt to open my eyes. I have a feeling this is going to hurt.

The bed dips beside me, the tingle of Seff’s presence bolstering my strength. My eyelids flutter, protecting me against any impending doom. But the room is blessedly dim.

It’s my room, the heavy drapes drawn. The glow from a single lamp in the corner still sends sharp spikes of pain through me, making me hiss and shrink back.

“Shit, turn the light off. It’s hurting him.” Seff whisper shouts, causing someone to scramble to the light, switching it off. I try to lick at my cottony mouth, but it’s no use. “You need water? Hang on.” The bed dips again and there’s whispering in the room before I feel Seff return to me.

“You gotta be careful. You were hurt, like, real bad. I’ll help okay?”

I was hurt? I don’t remember getting hurt… Seff eases me upright enough to sip at the water he brings to my lips.

Oh . It hits with a flash. The cliff. The magic. The fighting.

“Brydon!” Seff pins me to his chest when I flail under the blankets weighing me down. Water tips everywhere and Seff curses. I don’t know what’s happening, but he wraps himself around me, pulling me into him and lying us both down while I frantically fight back. But my energy fails me all too quickly and I collapse onto him, letting him shush and rock me.

“Brydon is safe, Master Rafe. He is… he is being cared for elsewhere.” Sed’s sad voice breaks through the dark.

“Where? Why isn’t he here? We must go get him!” I try to break free of Seff’s hold, but he only hugs me tighter, nuzzling himself into me.

“You can’t, Master. He is being held by the Palace guards for his role in… the events. And you, yourself, everyone in this room… You’re under watch too.”

“ What ?!” My bellow of rage is followed by an agonised cry as bright pain shoots through my temple.

“It’s only temporary. Just while the High Council figures out what’s going on. They just… need time.” Eldrid pats my hand.

“Get some rest. Please, Rafe. I need you better, okay? Please.” I turn my head to Seff’s, brushing my nose against his. A pool of tears on the pillow soaks my cheek. My precious Seff. For him… for him, I will rest.

***

My recovery feels agonisingly slow. Even though it has only been days.

After the first day, I could keep my eyes open without excruciating pain. Seff’s sweet smiles and my dimple were the only thing keeping the torment of my recovery at bay. After the second, I could sit upright without becoming violently ill. By the third day, the deep tears in my arm repaired enough to allow me to hold my own drink. I could even tolerate light by the fourth day, even though it took until the fifth day for me to go to the bathroom on my own without fear that the radiating pain in my skull would render me unconscious again.

Yesterday, day six of my confinement, I found the strength to argue, unleashing my pain and frustration out on any being who dared enter my room. Including Seff, who weathered it all with unrelenting tenderness. When I snapped and growled at him for daring to assist me with my lunch, he only laughed and kissed my head, calling me his grouchy little dragon like I was a child.

Every night, he has been here, wrapping me in his thick arms. It’s as much for him as it is for me, I think, considering how often I’ve woken to his whimpers and cries. He’s been there nearly every time I’ve opened my eyes. And if I dare wake when he’s not by my side, nothing—not even Estella herself—could keep him from getting back to me.

Despite the aching tiredness of his spirit, and the haunted shadows under his eyes, he’s been here. His friends, too. Considering they, too, are under house arrest. They have been ensconced in the house with us, visiting as much as my fatigue allows.

Which is why, now that I am finally upright and able to stagger through my home by clutching onto the rather convenient and plentiful furniture, I am increasingly enraged by the utter emptiness of my home.

“Vylushkiva,” I spit, breathing hard from the exertion of not only making my way down the stairs, but across the hall to the dining room. “ Where in the name of the Gods is everyone?!” With each word, my anger increases until I am roaring, zapping the last of my energy. Panting, I slump against the archway of the dining room, squeezing my eyes tight against the return of my headache.

“Ah, sugar tits. I don’t think you’re meant to be down here. If you hurt yourself, Seff’s going to get sad again, and I swear to the Gods, that boy being sad is the most depressing thing in the universe. I just can’t do it again.”

Edith. Through the pulsating pain at my temples, I’m vaguely aware that I have found someone . I just don’t know if I have the mental or physical fortitude for the witch. I open my eyes just a crack, to watch her entering through the kitchen doorway.

Clutched in her arm is a bowl of nanosh berries. They are grown exclusively on the grounds of the Orun temple, and in a small patch of the forest on the border. The berries are outlandishly expensive and, from the pinkish juice smeared across her face, she’s eaten plenty.

“Where is everyone?” I grit out with monumental effort, watching through narrowed eyes as she rounds the long dining table to stand in front of me, sucking at her teeth for stray seeds.

She expels a breath and I smell the sweet juice right before she checks my temperature with the back of her hand against my forehead like a child.

“You’re all sweaty. We need to get you resting. Come on.” With her free arm she tugs me from my resting place, looping it around my back to keep me steady. For one horrifying moment, I think she’s going to take me to my office—a place I’m uncertain I am ready to face. But instead she leads me around the back of the staircase to the rear courtyard .

The gardens in the courtyard were not created by my mother, but they were made better by her loving care and attention. It is Sed who took over their care after my parents left our city home. But between the heat of the summer just past and the dying magic of Tathys, the garden is not up to its usual glory, and for some strange reason I feel compelled to apologise when Edith settles me on the cushions of the sun lounge.

“I’m sorry, the gardens... They are usually quite magnificent. Full of life. But things...” I trail off, wearily waving my hand at the sad, sagging trail of white blossoms that usually hang like vibrant, delicate beaded chains from the vines above us. The garden is missing its usual hum of insects and sprites, darting around the extravagant floral beds my mother had favoured. It’s strange how I never noticed the sound until it disappeared.

Apparently, my injuries are making me melancholy. But the witch just tucks one of her shawls over me like a blanket, humming a non-committal sound.

“I think you'll find life returning rather rapidly around here.” She reaches to touch one of the low hanging strings of flowers dangling from above. The old blossoms flutter down, but beneath them, tiny new green buds are already visible.

“Are you going to explain what’s going on?” I rub at my forehead to ease the pressure there. On top of everything else, today Edith is… different to the being I’ve come to know in my short time at the Black Stump Tavern. It’s unnerving to see her so mellow. She sits on the side of the other lounge chair, picking at the lace edge of her skirt.

“Honestly, Rafe, I’m not even sure where to start.” She sighs hard and pops another berry in her mouth while she chews and thinks.

“The beginning then. How did you all get into Tathys?”

“I found Seff after he’d been sent from here. He was… I never wish to see him that way again. It’s not right for him to be sad like that. It’s like the rain falling up or… I don’t know. It’s too unnatural to name. We talked, and it became very apparent there was something going on. The connection between you meant that being separated… It was hurting him. He told us about Tathys and the portals. We decided to bring him back to you. Unfortunately, we didn’t quite know what we would stumble into.”

I snicker a humourless laugh, and Edith does the same. Our eyes meet briefly and a measure of understanding passes through the moment.

“I don’t know much about the current situation. The unfortunate downside of me playing the role of the crazy village idiot means that your people have not told me anything, and they are smart enough to not talk when I’m about. The benefit is that they left me to keep an eye on you whilst they have taken the others in for questioning.”

I jerk upright, my heart beating far too fast for my body. The quick movement makes my head spin and I reach out to steady myself. Edith grabs my hand.

“Please do not vomit. I refuse to clean it and I doubt that they will want to when they are returned to us.”

I look at Edith, really look at her, and see the pain in her bright purple eyes. They sparkle so bright I believe that she may actually cry.

“They took my babies, Rafe, and wouldn’t take me with them. The insolent shits all conspired to keep me here with you, said it would be safer for everyone if I wasn’t allowed to antagonise the palace. There’s a guard at every entrance and the magic here… I cannot pass it. What will they do with them?”

I am genuinely floored by Edith’s reaction. Yet entirely unsurprised. For however eccentric she may be, she loves Seff and his friends, and protects them fiercely.

“Honestly, I do not know. I don’t know why we are being held. I need to speak to Lia. She will have the answers. She will make everything right.”

“Is that your queen?”

“High Eminence, but yes, essentially she is the queen here in Tathys. The highest in our land.” Edith winces, blinking back the tears she is valiantly holding at bay.

“That is something I have heard. She hasn’t regained consciousness. Apparently, it’s part of the conversations that are being had. There is no succession plan and with so many being held on charges for treason… It's chaos.”

I feel as though I have been punched in the guts. Lia is still unconscious. I have to ask, even though I fear the answer. It would be too much to bear. “And Brydon? Have you heard?”

Edith nods gingerly.

“It took days to get the information. We are also being held for treason. You included. Brydon… Brydon has only regained consciousness in the past day. But he is being held in the prisons at the palace with the being… Is that really his father?” She whispers the last bit, the idea of it too horrendous to speak out loud.

“Yes. Heylor is Brydon’s father. But not by birth. His mother was mated to Heylor, but it was not a true match. She fell in love with another, and Brydon was the result. Heylor claimed him, but it was not easy.”

Edith sucks on her teeth, then shakes her head. I can almost see her mentally collecting Brydon into her menagerie of lost children.

“How many lives have you had, witch?” I ask, suddenly curious. She smiles, that same maniacal smile I’ve grown accustomed to, and holds up three boney fingers.

“Three previous. Though I wonder if all these recent events have chewed up some of my remaining turns.”

Witches are able to be reborn under certain conditions. It is not immortality. Their bodies return to the earth while their spirit continues into a new life, retaining the knowledge and memories gained over their many lives.

Being on her fourth life would explain not only her extensive magical knowledge but also her complete lack of regard for rules or societal norms. There is a certain air that comes with witches who’ve seen too much. Lived too much.

The conversation dips into a lull, both of us lost in our thoughts. It hurts to think, the fog not having lifted from my head yet.

“How long have they been gone?” I ask eventually, turning to eye Edith, now reclined on the lounge, watching the dead blossoms fall, raining down to reveal the new life beneath. Beyond the walls of my home, the sun is setting, casting an ethereal golden pink light.

“Since this morning. We’ll see them soon enough.”

“Hmm,” I hum, picking a berry from the bowl, hoping to ease my nauseous stomach. “Soon.”