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There were many reactions Dominic was accustomed to receiving from those who didn’t know him, reactions he still received at times even from the few who did: caution, nervousness, alarm, indifference, and, perhaps most often, fear in one form or another. His differences were rarely well-received, and he fully accepted this as an inevitable fact of his life. Inured through exposure, it had been a long time since he’d truly been disconcerted or offended by such things.
And he was neither of those now. He thought he would have handled it better if he were. No, he found himself genuinely upset. He observed this fact about himself with a kind of detachment born from shock. If his unexpected physical interest in the woman—in Gwyn—had not been enough to unnerve him all on its own, this certainly was. Not only seeing her fear but hearing it, hearing her accusations, couldn’t have distressed him more if she had pulled out a weapon from somewhere and attacked him with it. He felt an instant revulsion to the very idea of killing her which nearly matched his attraction for her in intensity. The thought was literally unbearable; he couldn’t bear being inside his own head with that thought in there at the same time.
So he told her he would leave after another meal, all the while desperately hoping that was enough time to restore the strength he’d already lost from the simple act of dressing himself. He hurt terribly, the effects of the tea having been all too brief for his liking, but he couldn’t endure himself around her. He wasn’t used to being so affected by another person. He didn’t want to get used to it.
He dreaded what putting distance between them might do. His earlier feelings of panic, his unexpected loss of self-control, were vividly seared into his memory. The helplessness he had felt had reminded him painfully of things he didn’t want to be reminded of.
But I have a mission and I need to return to it. Kelemir needs me to return to it, Sebastien needs me to return to it. Hopefully any discomfort will ease once I’m far enough away. It has to. He reminded himself how much he disliked having to depend on other people, this woman included, and of how much easier he would breathe once this whole mess was behind him.
But there was one silver lining to the whole miserable experience: the restlessness he had felt in Kelemir, the unfamiliar sense of having lost something, was gone. He hadn’t felt so much as a trace of it since he’d awakened in the cottage.
Dominic sat at the table with Gwyn, moving as slowly as he could to avoid alarming her again. She acted as though she didn’t notice, but he could see she was growing increasingly troubled as time went on. Tea was made, bread sliced, and some sort of lentil stew he hadn’t noticed her cooking was set in front of him.
He forced himself to eat and drink, willing himself to keep his eyes on the table in front of him, and Gwyn was equally silent.
When they’d finished, she cleared the table, then went to the wooden chest against one wall. She rummaged through it for a moment and pulled out a small bag of cloth. He watched her put bread and a water skin in it, along with a small roll of cloth that he assumed was meant to be for bandages, and she tucked a small bundle of dried herbs inside that he didn’t recognize.
“In case your pain comes back,” she told him. “Of course, you’ll have to boil water, but...err...if you stop at an inn or something...”
He didn’t answer, and she thrust the bag out at him.
Dominic eyed it a moment, then took it from her gingerly. “This is unnecessary. ”
“You’re welcome. ” She nodded towards the bag. “The knife’s in the bottom of it. Take it out before you’re gone and I’ll scream until your ears bleed, so help me. ”
He nodded quickly. “Understood. ”
“Are you sure you’re ready to go? If you need more time...” She trailed off, but her eyes kept going to the door. He wasn’t sure if it was hope or anxiety that he was seeing, but given the circumstances, he was inclined to guess the former.
“No, it’s time. Ah, my thanks for your assistance. ” He made his feet move to the door, and it took no effort at all to move slowly now. His fatigue had not diminished with the food, far from it. “Which way is the main road from here? ”
“Er, if you’re trying to go back the way you came...”
“No. South. ”
He was surprised to hear her sigh with something that sounded like relief. “Oh. Good. Well, when the path ends, head to the right. You’ll come across it in about an hour at most...likely less, at your, um, speed. ”
Dominic nodded and opened the door.
“I-if you come back this way sometime...well, it’s all right with me if you need to stop here,” she said hesitantly as he opened the door. “Be careful with that arm. ”
“I will,” he said, looking outside rather than at her to mask his confusion, and then he crossed the threshold.
He was profoundly relieved to find that he felt entirely normal as he started walking down the path away from Gwyn, or as normal as he could feel in his current state. No anxiety came, save the dread that he’d already been feeling at the threat of it.
He nearly sighed himself and began at once to move more quickly down the small beaten path that led from Gwyn’s cottage to the trees. Now he could see that the cottage was situated in a modest clearing, and though it looked like they were in the middle of a forest, it wasn’t the same as the forest he’d passed through to get to the settlement, or the one he only very patchily remembered being dragged to as he’d floated in and out of consciousness. The trees grew much farther apart here, and he could hear the rushing of a brook or stream not too far off. It was not yet midday by this time, but the sunlight pouring shamelessly through the branches overhead was already causing him to sweat.
The path petered off into nothingness at about the same moment that he fell apart. The bag, which he was still clutching rather awkwardly with his good hand, tumbled to the ground and so did he, every inch of his body screaming in such agony that breath, thought, and reason were completely lost. There was nothing but pain, and it was a horrible, burning pain, worse than being beaten by bear-like men with fists like small boulders, worse than being shot by arrows, worse than anything he had experienced before both remembered and willfully forgotten, maybe even worse than anything he’d caused anyone else to experience. He didn’t have the presence of mind to so much as fear for his life or call for help, or even to hope for it.
Abruptly, it eased, like whatever malevolent hand had been crushing him in its burning grip had been persuaded by some miracle to release him. The agony was gone as quickly as it had come, and it left him feeling hollow and aching and chilled down to his bones.
A second later, fear took its place. It slammed into him so hard he shook with it, his ears ringing with the sound of screams that only made his heart race all the faster. He realized belatedly that he must have vomited as he brought a shaking hand to his dripping face and tried to remember how to swallow the foul taste in his mouth. He didn’t remember closing his eyes, but now he tried to open them, frantic and confused. Everything around him was a too-bright blur that pressed in on him. The screaming stopped for a moment as he gasped for air, and he became aware of a voice.
“It’s all right, it’s all right, you’re fine, just breathe,” it was saying. Something cloth was wiping at his face, and he blinked rapidly as his hands went to it instinctively in an effort to ward it away. His vision finally cleared enough to resolve the blur into recognizable shapes, the most immediate of which was Gwyn, kneeling beside him. She had some cloth in her hand that looked like the bandages from the bag, and his fingers had curled around her wrists. She froze at the contact, her hand stilling, and he felt the ache in his chest grow at the fear in her eyes.
“Please let me help you,” she whispered.
But the feeling of her wrists in his hands, so small and fragile and warm...he could go no farther with the thought. He wanted, he needed to touch her. The feel of her anchored him now and kept him away from that nightmare place of pain, he knew that at the level of his bones. It made no sense, and he didn’t understand it, but he knew it was true. He was past hating it, past fearing it, past being repulsed by it...past everything except not wanting the pain to return.
He shook his head mutely, his eyes pleading silently with her. Don’t make me let go. I can’t. Don’t make me.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” she urged him.
But he couldn’t. It was still too hard to breathe, the world around them had run out of air. He managed with great effort to uncurl one hand from around her wrist and he lowered it to grip his own shirt instead, but the other continued to cling to her.
Her free hand still hovered uncertainly in the air, a piece of cloth dangling from it, but after a moment, she resumed cleaning the wetness from his face and chin. Dominic closed his eyes and worked on filling his lungs, swiftly feeling himself steadying. He realized then that he could smell her, something he’d taken in before without paying much attention to it. The weather had been warm bordering on hot; the smell of sweat, whether his own or someone else’s, was to be expected.
But her sweat didn’t smell repellent to him as most people’s did. He found himself breathing more deeply, calm stealing over him unexpectedly. Maybe her scent reminded him of something else, something he didn’t remember but that had been comforting for him. He couldn’t imagine what that would be, but his memory wasn’t perfect. For the moment, it didn’t matter. He felt his chest loosening with every breath, the coil of tension inside of him relaxing. He still hurt, but it was tolerable pain, the expected pain of his injuries, not the excruciating surprise torment of a short while before.
“Are you feeling any better? ” Gwyn asked tentatively.
He opened his eyes and was relieved to see more worry than fear on her face now, a small frown on her lips and around her eyes.
He tried to nod, but he felt very heavy. “Yes,” he managed to rasp. “Almost normal, if it weren’t so cold. ”
Her frown grew as she reached out a trembling hand and lightly touched his forehead.
It was all he could do not to grab her hand again, rational or irrational.
“You have a fever,” she said, her eyebrows lowering. “You seemed fine just a few minutes ago. I should have checked you whether you wanted me to or not. Gods, I keep messing up, whatever I do. It’s going to be ok, though. I need to get you back inside and out of the sun, all right? ”
Again he tried to nod, beyond caring as long as his hand was still on her and the pain stayed away.
“Do you think you can stand? I’d hate to have to drag you again. It wouldn’t be pleasant for you. At least before, you were unconscious so you weren’t feeling anything. Or I hope you didn’t, anyway. ”
“A moment,” he told her. Experimentally, he tried to move his legs, and they minded him.
“If you let go of me, I can help you. ” She pulled back her captive wrist a little as if in reminder.
“If I let go of you, you can help by being merciful and killing me quickly. ” He made the words as clear and loud as he could. His throat felt raw, and his mouth like it was full of sand.
She shook her head. “You’re not making sense. It’s probably the fever talking. I know you’re not well. I’ll put my arm around you if you let me go, all right? So you’ll still be holding on to me. I know you said no touching, but-”
“Forget I said that,” he interrupted, his heart already beating faster. “You need to. ”I need you to.
Again she tried to pull back her wrist. Dominic’s heart pounded and his vision momentarily blurred, but somehow, he let go. Before the panic could fully seize him, she pushed her arm under his and around his back, pulling him upwards with more strength than he would have expected of her.
Between the two of them, he managed to regain his feet, albeit unsteadily. He leaned against her heavily, shivering as much from cold as from the sudden urge, almost painful in its intensity, to take her in his arms and grasp her for dear life so she couldn’t get away.
I should be ashamed, what terrible things...gods, what’s wrong with me? The thought broke through the single-minded daze he’d been in since he’d collapsed.
He waited for the predictable nausea to come, but he was unable to feel anything apart from the desperation not to be plunged back into agony as she led him back into the cottage and helped him lay down on the bed. Again he grabbed for her as she pulled her arm free of his body, but this time she managed to get clear of him in time.
He cried out inarticulately, already moving to go after her, or trying to anyway; he felt as though some great weight were holding him down. His very bones ached.
“I need to make you something for the fever. I’m not leaving the cottage, I promise you,” she said soothingly. “Please stay there and rest. It won’t take long. ”
“I can’t,” he blurted out. “I can’t. Oh please. ”
He tried to stand as she went briskly to her work table, but his knees buckled at once. He heard her saying his name as everything around him went dark.
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Every time Gwyn thought Dominic couldn’t possibly scare her more, he went and proved her wrong. Never in her life had she heard anyone scream as he had screamed. Her blood had felt like it had frozen in her veins when she’d run from the cottage and seen him crumpled at the foot of the path, incoherent and, at first, unreachable.
She couldn’t believe her own stupidity, sending him on his way with a fever and not even noticing it. She still didn’t understand what exactly had happened out there, but she was sure the way he’d been acting before he passed out had been influenced by the fever. He was burning hot to her touch, and she felt terrible for him.
Once again, she found herself in the difficult position of getting him back onto the bed. She wrested off his shirt, now soiled—whatever else had happened out there, his meal hadn’t stayed put—and began to wipe him down with cool water while the herbs steeped.
But when she’d changed that water out twice and had finished making the tea with him still unconscious, she knew something must be terribly wrong.
“Dominic,” she called. “Dominic! ”
He did not stir.
She shook him gently by the shoulders, repeating his name, but though he twitched a bit this time, he still did not awaken.
A fever alone wouldn’t keep him out like this. He was upset before, but not what I’d call delirious, she thought, chewing on her lip. And I can hardly pour the tea down his throat to bring down his fever, he’ll choke on it.
She decided to keep trying to wipe him down and wait a bit. Perhaps the fever would break on its own, or he would awaken enough to drink some of the tea.
But it quickly became apparent that the fever, rather than abating, was only burning hotter. She checked his wounds, but there was no sign of festering. All appeared to be healing as she would have expected—no, better than she would have expected. Some of the bruises were nothing more than shadows now.
This doesn’t make any sense! What could possibly be wrong with him?
Gwyn was desperate, and she knew then that there was nothing else for it. She’d have to try her magic again. She was still tired and wasn’t sure what she could do, or indeed, what she should even look for, but she didn’t know what else to do.
All she knew was that she couldn’t just let him die. The risk of using her magic in her fatigued state was no greater than the risk of his fever rampaging out of control.
She gathered her magic to herself, focusing on it, then flattened her open hands on his bare chest and focused on him. Her kind of magic made her vulnerable to sensing the physical needs and impulses of others whether she wanted to or not, so she always kept herself shielded as a matter of habit; it was the first thing mages like her were taught, if they were lucky enough to find teachers rather than executioners.
Her kind of magic was very, very illegal.
But she couldn’t shield herself from someone she was trying to heal, so she knew when a sudden wave of very physical longing swept over her that it had to be coming directly from him. It shocked her so much that she nearly withdrew her magic immediately to protect herself from it; it was a clear, strong sense of yearning, something she could have almost named as desire, but it wasn’t quite like the lust she had sensed from others before. This was different in some way she couldn’t define, a way she knew instinctively was important, and she immediately began to question her initial assessment of it.
But as she tried to distance herself from the actual feeling without breaking her connection to him, she couldn’t spare the energy or concentration to ponder it any further. She was sure it was causing him discomfort, though. She couldn’t imagine feeling that way for any length of time without going mad and wondered how long it had been going on.
Surely whatever this is can’t be what’s causing his fever, though, she mused. I didn’t sense it from him the last time I used my magic, either.
Yet she could find nothing else that seemed out of the ordinary. He was still wounded, inside and out, but none of his injures were still grave enough that they could be endangering his life now. There were no other drives she sensed from him, except a thirst that seemed remote compared to the first need she’d sensed.
She withdrew her magic reluctantly, worried that she hadn’t found anything that she could help with, but when she’d regained her bearings, she realized that his chest felt a little cooler under her hands than it had when she’d begun.
Before she could make any sense of it, his eyes were fluttering open. She started to take her hands away, but he snatched her arms before she could move away as his eyes focused on her face.
Gwyn felt flustered, unsure of how to explain what she’d just been doing without actually telling him why her hands had been on him. But all he said was, “Thirsty. ”
“I-I made some tea that should help with your fever. ” Fortunately she had left the mug by his bedside and was able to awkwardly retrieve it with him still clutching one of her arms.
She offered it to him, and at first he only stared at it. She realized when he finally reached for it with unsteady fingers that he wouldn’t be able to hold it on his own. She guided it to his lips with his hand still on her arm as he lifted his head, and he managed to drink nearly half of it before shaking his head at her with a grimace, sinking back against the bed.
“I know it’s awful,” she said, forcing a small smile as she took away the mug. “But it should help. ”
He blinked at her blearily, his fingers tightening on her arm. “I’m cold,” he murmured. She could barely hear him. “Hold me. Just until I’m warm again. Please. ”
She thought apprehensively of what she had felt from him before. But maybe what I felt wasn’t really sexual...or at least not entirely so.
But then again, it could have been. It’s not like he could act on it in this state, she told herself, but she was full of doubt.
“You don’t like being touched,” she reminded him.
“No, I don’t,” he agreed. “But it’s so cold it hurts. ”
His dark eyes were unreadable, but she knew there was more to it than that.
I just have no way of asking him about it without also telling him what I am. And even if I could trust that he wouldn’t turn me in over it, who knows how he would react?
“Maybe for a moment, until the tea starts working,” she said doubtfully. “But tell me the moment you feel uncomfortable, all right? ”
He gave a slight nod, so she sat on the side of the bed, as close to the edge as she could without falling off, and swung her legs up. The second she laid back, feeling extremely uncomfortable, he turned onto his side facing her and huddled up against her. He released her arm at last, only to lay his own over her stomach. He pressed his hot forehead against the side of her arm and let out such a deep sigh that she wondered if he’d been holding his breath without her noticing.
“I can’t exactly hold you this way,” she told him.
He mumbled something indecipherable against her arm, but she took it as acceptance of the situation because he also didn’t move.
Dominic sagged against her after a moment, his breathing deepening, and she glanced down to see he had either fallen asleep again or was doing a very good imitation of it. The heat of his skin where she could feel it worried her, and she gingerly put her hand on his arm. Again he sighed, but otherwise, he didn’t stir.
Between the heat of the room and the heat of Dominic, Gwyn broke out in a sweat, but there was something about how peaceful he looked now that made her discomfort easier to bear. Whatever had happened outside, she was sure it had to be horrible for him. She couldn’t imagine feigning that kind of reaction, just as he couldn’t be feigning the fever.
I wish I knew what was going on here, she thought, sighing as she shut her eyes for a moment.
But she realized a “moment” had turned into longer when she next opened them and saw it was growing dark again. Dominic still felt hot, though not as hot as he had been when she’d first brought him back inside, and he hadn’t moved at all. Neither had she. Her muscles were stiff from being in the same position for so long, and she extricated herself from Dominic as gently as she could, only just freeing herself from the bed before he opened his eyes with a groan.
“Gwyn? ” His voice sounded weak, and his eyes darted around as though he was disoriented before coming to rest on her.
She tugged at the neck of her dress, feeling the sweat trickle down her back. “I need to make you more tea. Please try to rest. It’ll only be a few minutes. ”
“It didn’t work before,” he said.
She bit her lip. “No, it didn’t. ”
“Do you know why this is happening? ”
“No. ” A lump formed in her throat. “I wish I did. I’ll level with you, Dominic, I don’t know what to do. This is a little beyond the kind of work I normally do. I just make and sell remedies, I don’t usually have to take care of anybody. And you’re different from the people I usually make remedies for. Maybe that’s why the herbs aren’t working, I don’t know. ” Her eyes widened. “Oh, there’s an idea. People like you would know what would work for you, maybe even know why you have this fever. ”
Dominic hesitated. “I’ve never met anyone else exactly like me. ”
But Gwyn understood the hesitation immediately. “Not exactly like you, no, but somewhat like you, surely? ”
“Only on one other occasion. And they were trying to kill everyone they saw at the time, including me,” he said in a low voice. “Why would any of them help me? ”
Now it was Gwyn’s turn to hesitate. “Were the ones you encountered any of the ones near here, though? Maybe a different clan would be more helpful. ”
“Clan? ” Dominic blinked, his mouth dropping open slightly. “Are they in clans? ”
“I would call them that, but I don’t know what they call themselves. ” Gwyn thought back on the things she’d heard. “My understanding is that different groups of them live in different forests. And not all the forests, either, just certain ones. I avoid those, of course, everyone does. Not just because of them. Some woods are darker than others, and they attract dark things. But there’s one not far from here that doesn’t have the same reputation as many of the others. ”
“Reputation? ” Dominic repeated.
“You know, for people going missing near them. Things like that. ”
He went very still, no longer even blinking, and she felt her skin prickle. “It sounds dangerous. You shouldn’t chance it. I would go if I could, but since I can’t...you need to think of something else. Just keep trying what you know. It will either work out, or it won’t. ”
“But what I know isn’t helping. You can see that for yourself,” Gwyn replied, shaking her head in frustration. “It’s not right that you should die because I’m incompetent. No, I’m going to see if one of them will talk to me. ”
“Are you not listening? They could kill you. I won’t allow it,” he growled.
His voice sent shivers through her. Gwyn’s pulse quickened and she tried to swallow with a dry throat. “Y-you can’t stop me. Not the way you are now. You couldn’t even stand up earlier. This is the only thing left to try, Dominic, and it’s my choice, my risk. I became responsible for you when I brought you here, and I mean to see it through. It’s the right thing to do. ”
“It’s the stupid thing to do,” he said coldly, his eyes narrowing. “You seem so intelligent at other times that I don’t see how you can be failing to understand that I can’t be away from you. ”
Gwyn stared at him. “What? You’re saying I’m the reason this is happening? That’s insane! ”
“Possibly, but it’s the truth. A horrible pain came over me when I reached the end of the path, and I feel...wrong...when you so much as leave the room. I panic. And I never panic. ” He closed his eyes briefly, looking like he was struggling with himself over something. “I don’t know why this is happening, but there’s no way it’s not related to you. I don’t know what you did-”
“I didn’t do anything like that to you! ” she exploded, shaking her head in disbelief. He cringed at her volume, but her anger wouldn’t be contained. “How can you think that? Why would I even want to do that to you? Or to me! Do you think I enjoy being scared out of my mind all the damn time? ”
“Maybe you didn’t do it deliberately. Maybe you didn’t even know you were doing it. ” His voice was still weak, but very calm. “The point is, we may not know what is going on, but I know I have to stay with you until we figure it out. ”
That quieted her. My magic couldn’t have done this to him, even accidentally. It just couldn’t have, she thought incredulously. I don’t see any way that would even be possible. There’s no connection between us at all when I’m not actively using it. I would feel it. I would know. I would sense him, I would sense his needs at this very moment, but I’m shielded. I’m sure of it.
But she couldn’t deny he was different. Maybe that had changed something. Maybe the anima magic worked differently on him.
If it had somehow bound him to her, then she had no idea how to fix the situation. She couldn’t even sense it.
“We need to see the elves,” she announced firmly, squaring her shoulders. “Dangerous or not, that’s what we’re doing. If I can’t leave you behind, you’re just going to have to come with me. ”
“Elves? ” Dominic frowned. “Is that what those creatures are? ”
“It’s what humans call them. Again, I don’t know what they call themselves. Or if they can even speak. ”
“They can. I’ve heard them. The ones I met could speak our language, even. I don’t know about the ones you’re speaking of. ” He haltingly managed to push himself up onto one elbow. “Gwyn, this is a bad idea. They could kill you. They could kill us both. ”
“You could die either way. And I told you, I’m responsible for you now,” she said tersely.
But her heart sank at his words as she recognized the truth in them. I don’t want to die, but what if I did do this to him? I need to see this through. I couldn’t live with myself otherwise. I only meant to help him...but I should have known better than to try. I know what happens when I do. Will I never learn?
She turned away from him abruptly, her chest aching. “We’re going to the elves,” she repeated. “We need to go as soon as possible. Your fever could get worse again at any moment, and it’s only going to make it harder for you to travel. The wood we’re going to isn’t very far from here, but in your condition, it’s going to take a while. I don’t have a horse or wagon or anything like that. ”
“Is there no way you will see reason about this? ” he asked, sounding very tired.
“No. None. I’m going, with or without you,” she answered, crossing her arms as she turned back to him.
He watched her from under heavy lids, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Fine. ”
When he said nothing else, Gwyn located an old shirt of her father’s for him from her wooden chest. She would retrieve his knife, still in the bag on the path, on their way out.
There’s no way it will be enough if they do mean us harm, she thought grimly.
Nothing would be enough.
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Walking into the forest outside the cottage with Gwyn at his side, Dominic almost felt like himself again.
Almost. His body still felt tired, aching, and chilled, but his mind felt the clearest it had since before this whole nightmare had begun. The smell of the earth and the trees seemed to ease his breathing as it always did, and when he passed the point where he had collapsed before without so much as a twinge, he felt himself finally relaxing.
Dusk was falling, and the dwindling sunlight was gentler on his eyes. Gwyn’s hand was on his arm—he could tell by her obvious reluctance in taking it that she was uncomfortable, but she’d done it anyway before he could grab for her with a look in her eyes that he could only interpret as a warning—and this constant assurance of her presence kept the worst of his earlier anxiety at bay. He found himself feeling ashamed now at the weakness he’d been showing her since the first moment they’d met, even though there was nothing he could do about it now. It had the unexpected benefit of making it easier for him not to look at her; he still shied vehemently from where his mind went when he did.
After they had been walking for some time, he began to notice the whispering of the trees, and he became aware soon after of her eyes being on him more often than not. He dared a glance at her.
Her eyebrows were knit together, and she quickly looked away before he could meet her gaze.
“What’s the matter? ” he asked, already unsure if he wanted to know the answer.
“You look browner than before. I’m sure you are, even though it’s getting dark. ” She sounded perplexed. “If I’m imagining it, please don’t tell me. I’m not sure I could handle it right now. ”
“Oh, that. No. You’re not imagining it. ”
She shot him a questioning look. Had it been anyone else in the world, he would have ignored it, but under the circumstances...
“It only happens around trees,” he explained reluctantly. “It just happens. I blend in after a while. ”
“How does that happen? Is it magic? ” She sounded almost as intrigued as she had when he’d brought up the clothing habits of whores.
“I don’t know. Well, I know I’m not a mage. ”
“There are different kinds of magic, though. Maybe you have some kind that works on its own,” she suggested.
“Perhaps,” he said, noncommittal.
Gwyn lapsed back into silence. He was surprised after a moment to realize he was disappointed that she hadn’t gone on. Usually I would be relieved to find a conversation over. Maybe it’s the fever.
He glanced at her again, but she was looking straight ahead.
“Aren’t you going to ask me anything else? ” he prompted after a moment.
“Like what? ”
“I don’t know. Something about my parents, maybe. That’s what people usually ask. ”
Again he felt her eyes on him. “What do they ask about them? ”
“‘Was your mother a pervert, or was she violated? ’ seems to be the most common one. The exact wording varies, of course. Some think they’re more subtle than they are. ”
He thought, but did not say aloud, that the degree of subtlety employed generally ended up being the largest indicator of whether there would be any future conversations with the questioner.
“Gods, how awful. People really ask you that? ” Gwyn sounded reassuringly appalled, and he relaxed, only then realizing that he had ever tensed up.
“They do,” he confirmed.
“I hope you tell them to go to perdition! ”
“Tell them, send them. The distinction, like their questions, is so very subtle,” he deadpanned, but the absence of her laughter wasn’t. A quick sidelong look verified her silent frown. “I’m kidding. You’re not thinking about my knife again, are you? I told you what that’s about. ”
“Am I that transparent? ” Now she did laugh a little. “At least I’m the one holding it. ”
She was. It was still in the bag she’d picked up from the path where he had dropped it.
“Are you going to let me have it back? If we’re attacked, I might need it,” he suggested delicately. “Besides, you must know now it wouldn’t be in my own best interests to kill you. ”
“For all I know, you’d be just fine dragging my corpse along behind you, so I can’t say that I feel any better about things just because you think you need me with you,” Gwyn said bluntly.
Dominic blinked, startled. That idea hadn’t occurred to him before, but he felt the same sense of revulsion at it that he had felt the first time she’d come out and accused him of wanting to kill her. It made him feel even sicker than he already did, and he suddenly felt unsteady again for the first time since they’d passed the tree line. “Maybe we should stop a moment. ”
Gwyn led him to the base of the one of the trees, and he sank down on the ground so abruptly that she was pulled down with him before she could get her hand free. His heart raced at the feeling of her body against his side before she hurried to move away, and he caught her hand in his when it slipped from his arm.
He looked her directly in the eyes. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stop saying things like that. ”
“Why? Does it upset you? Don’t you think it upsets me, too? ”
“Plenty of people have knives. You only think I’d hurt you with mine because you think I’m a monster,” he stated.
Gwyn’s eyes widened. “That isn’t true! I assume pretty much everyone I meet would kill me if given the chance. You have no idea what most people are like, the urges they have that you’d never suspect just by looking at them. ”
He thought briefly of the urge she’d been having since he woke up and saw her in her cottage and felt the heat creep up his neck, but he forced himself to hold her gaze. “And you do? How would you? You’re being paranoid. ”
To his surprise, she was the one to look away, her face paling. “Fine, I’m paranoid. But it’s of everyone, not just you. ”
“Then why did you help me? Why didn’t you leave me where you found me? ”
“Maybe I’m paranoid and an idiot,” she said dryly. “Surely you don’t think the two are mutually exclusive? ”
He watched her, feeling an unexpected surge of genuine curiosity. “You’re very well spoken. You’re educated. ”
“I’ve had some lessons,” she said, refusing to look at him. “Still doesn’t mean I’m not an idiot. Some birds can talk, you know. They repeat the sounds they hear. ”
“I know. But you’re not a bird. ”
“How would you know? Maybe you’re delirious with this fever. ” She frowned and looked back at him then, her free hand going to his forehead, there and gone before he could think of how to react. “You’re still hot. Are you ready to move on yet? ”
“Tell me first why you helped me,” Dominic insisted. “Given all you’ve said, that choice makes no sense. ”
It was a weakness of his that when something aroused his curiosity, he simply had to know the answer. There was no way around it, no means of getting out of it. If denied, the need to know consumed him as quickly as a fire devoured dry leaves, no matter how trivial the question.
Fortunately, few things had the power to provoke genuine interest from him. At the rate she was going, Gwyn appeared to be rising rapidly to the top of every list of needs he had.
“You needed my help,” she told him firmly. “That’s all there is to it. There’s no mystery here, Dominic. You would have died if I’d left you there, so my help could hardly leave you any worse off. That’s all. Let’s go. It’ll be too dark to see soon. ”
She started to stand, but his fingers tightened on her hand as he considered her answer. What an odd thing to say. She doubts the usefulness of her own assistance. Why? As someone who works with herbs, she must be used to encountering people who are hurt or ill.
His curiosity continued to nag uncomfortably at him, still not wholly satisfied, but she’d answered his question with something other than a glib dismissal this time, so he forced himself to his feet.
They continued to walk, their path soon skirting what was clearly a road of some kind that he could glimpse through the trees.
Gwyn must have noticed him looking that way, because she said suddenly, “We need to go in the same direction as the main road for a time, and I don’t want to get lost in the dark. But I think it’s best if we avoid actually using it for now. ” She paused a moment, biting her lip in that distracting way she had. “It’s not that I care what others would think to see me with you, you understand, it’s just that I still don’t know who did this to you in the first place, and you wouldn’t survive it happening again. Unless you’d like to tell me...? ”
He gave a single shake of his head, forcing his eyes back to the path they were taking through the trees. The less she knows about that, the better. Odds are good that she doesn’t even know about the existence of the settlement, and she’s safer that way. I have no good explanation for having been there even if she does know about it.
He heard Gwyn sigh. “I really am trying to help you, you know. If only you’d-”
Suddenly she broke off, pulling him down hard by the arm. He winced but cooperated, flattening himself against one of the trees, his senses on full alert. He’d been so distracted by the woman at his side that he hadn’t registered it before, but he now clearly heard people on the road just past the trees: a murmur of voices, a clip-clopping of hooves. He heard them pause, a male voice asking the others with some alarm if they’d seen something in the woods. The reply he received was indistinguishable, even to Dominic’s ears, but after a long, tense moment, the sounds of motion resumed.
“The sun has set,” Gwyn whispered as the sounds faded ahead of them. “They had lanterns, but surely they couldn’t have seen us in here? ”
“It doesn’t matter,” he whispered back, squeezing her hand. Her transparent worry on his behalf made him feel as if he were wearing armor that didn’t fit right. He all but wriggled at the discomfiture of it. “They’re moving on, and so should we. ”
“Maybe we should go deeper in,” Gwyn said uneasily. “I’m just afraid we’ll break our necks. There’s some light this close to the road, but-”
“I can see fine,” he interrupted. “Just tell me what direction we need to be going in. ”
“Southeast, just like this stretch of road. We’ll have to cross it when we get to the river, and the forest we need will be on the other side. It shouldn’t be too much farther. Are you sure...? ”
He stood, tugging at her hand, and once she was upright, he moved confidently into the trees. “Stay close,” he warned her. “If you walk into something, it will almost certainly slow us down. ”
“Almost certainly, eh? ” Gwyn humphed.
“Well, someone suggested to me once that I could just drag you behind me, but I’d rather not. Broken arm,” he told her.
This time she laughed, albeit a little uncertainly. A smile flickered unwillingly across his lips at the sound.
But she was almost as close as his shadow as he wove his way through the trees. Her nearness was more soothing than he wanted to admit, even to himself, and it was all he could do to focus on where he was going instead of on how close she was. He thought he could feel the heat coming off of her and felt the maddening urge to submerge himself in it.
As the evening, and their journey, wore on, he pushed through the protest of his aching muscles and tried to suppress the shivers that were coming more and more insistently. It will only upset her if she notices, and I can’t have her trying to leave me to “rest” or anything similarly misguided, he thought.
Finally he heard the river up ahead. “We’re almost to the river,” he told her.
“Are you sure? ” she asked skeptically, but a few minutes later, she stopped. “Yes, I hear it now. We should cross over now. ”
Dominic stood very still, listening, but he heard nothing. Either they’d manage to out-pace the other travelers from earlier or vice versa.
“All right,” he said at last. They emerged carefully from the trees, and he saw now that the road was a broad, soundly-cobbled affair, positively luxurious in quality by Kelemiran standards.
The lords of the Provinces had spent so much time squabbling and grubbing land from each other that there was very little left in the way of resources for such extravagances as proper road maintenance.
Dominic saw as they crossed to the other side that perhaps half a kilometer ahead, there was indeed a forest, a dense, sprawling thing that looked pitch black even from the road. He immediately grew alert again as they came closer to it, disconcerted by the perfect silence that emanated from the wood.
He heard no birds in the branches, no owls calling to each other in the gathering darkness, no scurry of animals in the vegetation beyond the outer ring of trees. No insects buzzed, no fallen twigs crackled beneath paw or hoof.
But the chill that penetrated his marrow even more deeply than the one caused by his fever came from the trees. They did not speak. With so many of them there, packed together as tightly as these appeared to be, he should have heard something from them at once, but there was nothing. If the absence of sound could be said to have a volume all its own, the forest screamed its nothingness, an abyss of silent warning to those with ears that could hear it.
Or not hear it.
He stopped in his tracks, gripping Gwyn’s hand tightly. “We can’t go in there,” he murmured, raising his voice as much as he dared and still not quite sure if she would be able to hear him. Even with her hand still in his, he felt his breathing growing short, the wrongness of the wood putting him on edge.
“We have to, Dominic. You’re getting worse again. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice,” she murmured back skeptically.
He looked at her in shock. “You did? ”
“Well, I’m either an idiot or I’m not. I wish you’d make up your mind which it is. ” She looked faintly amused, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel the same.
“This forest...something’s wrong with it. ”
“I know. That’s why the elves live there. Or maybe they’re the ones who make it that way. Or maybe something else in there does it. Who knows? For our purposes, it doesn’t matter. We need to talk to them, if they’re willing to be talked to. ”
She tugged on his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to move, his eyes darting back to the dark trees looming ahead, his ears futilely straining to hear some sound and hearing nothing apart from his own breathing and Gwyn’s.
Sighing, she pulled her hand free from his, and his eyes returned to her in alarm, but she was already reaching into the bag she held in her other hand, pulling out his knife. It glinted in the weak moonlight, and after a moment she turned it in her hand, offering it to him by the hilt.
Her amber eyes studied his face, and she said, “No, I’m not happy about it, but if it will get you to go in, then I guess I’ll have to take my chances with you having it. ”
Dominic wanted very much in that moment to valiantly offer to go in without it, just to throw her off and perhaps convince her once and for all that he had no interest in using the knife on her.
But he couldn’t do it. He knew they would be going in whatever he did, and he thought having it was his best chance of protecting her if he had to...not that it was very likely he would succeed, knife or no knife. Not in his condition, not in a forest like this one.
He took it, the tremble in her hand as the blade left her grasp piercing him like an arrow to the gut. He slipped it into the empty sheath on his leg as she watched, her expression inscrutable.
“Are you sure I can’t talk you out of this? ” he asked. “Maybe if I explain-”
She pulled him by the hand into the trees.
––––––––
No question about it, this forest is damn creepy, Gwyn thought, gritting her teeth as she squinted into the gloom. Darkness engulfed them within moments of passing through the outer ring of trees, and Gwyn felt the immediate press of branches against her skin as she was forced to halt and let Dominic take the lead.
But it was the silence that was the most alarming to her. She tried to ask him if he could still see, even as dark as it now was, but she could barely hear her own voice. It came out sounding like it was smothered by an invisible hand, muted and sounding more distant to her own ears than it should have.
Dominic’s hand was tight on hers and his steps, although much slower than they had been in the forest on the other side of the road, did not falter. She stayed as close to him as she could without tripping over him, unable to make out anything further away from her face than her own elbow. If she looked skyward, she could see faint gray glimmers of what could have been light, resembling nothing more than blurry splotches in the impenetrable darkness overhead. The splotches seemed both close enough to touch and impossibly far away, and she didn’t dare reach out a hand to them.
She squeezed his hand and all but yelled into his ear, “How far in should we go? Do you think they know we’re here? ”
It still came out very quiet, but Dominic returned the squeeze and said something she couldn’t make out.
Then he repeated himself, only just audible: “Not much further. We don’t want to get lost in here. ”
I’m already lost in here, she thought miserably. If he lets go of my hand, it’s all over.
They walked a few minutes more, then Dominic suddenly stopped, Gwyn bumping into his back before she caught herself.
He said something, but the only word she could make out was “can’t. ” She felt him pull on her arm as he went down, and she wasn’t sure if he’d fallen or if he was kneeling or sitting.
“Dominic? What’s wrong? ” she tried to ask him. She knelt as carefully as she could beside him, her hands blindly seeking his face.
He was burning hot, the hottest he’d been since the fever had begun. He’d begun to shiver violently, and Gwyn felt herself starting to shiver for a different reason.
Oh gods, what do we do? The elves have to know we’re here, they have to!
The terrible idea occurred to her for the first time that they might not be nocturnal, that they might be tucked away wherever it was they slept for the night, and there would be no reaching them until daybreak.
Panic seized her, and she lifted her face and started to yell.
“Creatures of the wood! Please, help us. This man has your blood in his veins, and he needs your help. ”
She paused and listened intently, but there was no response. She felt Dominic crumple against her, still shaking, and his hand let go of her. She threw her arms around him, her eyes stinging with sudden tears.
Then she felt something like sharp, spindly branches pressing into her flesh and wrapping around her shoulders, yanking her painfully away from Dominic with greater strength than what she could resist. She cried out, flailing helplessly, unable to see what had grabbed her, let alone try to fight it. She felt her blouse being torn off and she froze, her blood turning to ice.
Gwyn felt herself being lifted into the air until her feet dangled, and she realized after a horrified moment that she was moving forward.
She was being carried somewhere.
“No! ” she screamed, thrashing again as she tried to break free and prying ineffectually at whatever was digging into her arms with her hands. “I can’t leave him! Take me back! Dominic! ”
She could barely hear herself, even at full volume. She twisted in the grasp of whatever it was that carried her, but the sharp, pointy digits only tightened on her, sending pain shooting down her arms. She felt blood starting to trickle from one of the points of contact.
Gwyn frantically tried to touch her magic, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate, her mind returning wildly to Dominic, her ears straining to hear if he started to scream again as he had on the path.
“Please, oh please, take me back to him, you don’t understand,” she begged.
But there was no reply of any kind.
They were moving quickly, and her whole body was rigid in continual anticipation of the inevitable moment when she would be slammed into one of the trees that crowded around them so closely. Branches, feeling much like whatever it was that gripped her by the shoulders, nipped at her as she was carried past, and she drew in another breath to scream when light suddenly flooded her vision, making her gasp instead as her eyes fluttered rapidly.
When her vision finally cleared enough for her to see, the forward motion not pausing for even a moment, she could see she was being carried through what appeared to be a large clearing.
It wasn’t entirely empty—large trees still dotted it here and there—but the space between them was positively expansive compared to the narrow space she and Dominic had just been walking through. The light came from what had to be hundreds of little lanterns, every one of them lit and hanging from the branches of the trees or set on posts made of fallen branches that had been stripped of their leaves. As she glanced up, she could finally see sky, a sprinkling of stars visible in the gaps between the leaves.
Gwyn could still not see what it was that held her, but she did see what they had come to see: elves. As she looked around, she made out more and more of them, blending with the trees as Dominic had done, but to a far greater degree than he had. Had she not been deliberately looking for them, she never would have seen them, as indeed she hadn’t noticed them when she’d first taken in the clearing.
They looked just as her father had described them in the stories he had told her as a child: willowy and hairless, their skin perfectly smooth and the same shade of brown as the bark of the trees around them. They wore no clothing, and while they were of varying heights and both males and females were represented, they all looked very much alike to her in terms of their features, which, while recognizable and distinct, also looked a little too smooth, almost as if they’d just begun to melt. Their eyes were very similar to Dominic’s, but where he had at least a sliver of white to his eyes at the sides, they had none, merely ovals that were green rather than dark like his, their almond shape far more exaggerated and tipping up towards their temples.
Those eyes shone with intelligence, every last one of them riveted on Gwyn as she passed through, still held by what she had to assume was one of them.
Though the clearing was still silent, she tried again to speak. “The man I was with, you have to take me back to him, please...he’s ill, he needs me, he’s in pain when I’m not with him...”
Her voice came out too loud, all the muffling effect of the forest apparently gone in this space, and she winced at it, but the presumed elf that held her did not so much as twitch.
Instead he marched her directly up to the one of the large trees and unceremoniously dropped her in front of it. She landed with an oomph on her hands and knees, but the moment she managed to straighten up and turn to the creature who had been carrying her, he held up a tapered hand as if to strike her, and she cringed instinctively back.
“Stay,” he told her firmly, his silky voice bearing the same tone she’d heard people use with dogs before. She stared after him in shock as he moved swiftly off, evidently returning the way they came. He looked as though he glided more than walked, though she thought his movements certainly hadn’t felt that smooth when he’d been carrying her by her shoulders. They ached fiercely now and her hands went to them, a sudden chill descending on her. It was dumb luck that she had been wearing her shift under her clothing; she frequently skipped it when the weather got warm, oblivious to propriety when she rarely saw anyone else anyhow.
Gwyn doubted that the elf had either noticed or cared whether she wearing anything else, particularly given his own lack of clothing.
She briefly considered pursuing him, whatever he said, but no sooner had the thought come than he had already disappeared back into the trees, and she knew she’d never be able to find him again or follow him in the darkness without his cooperation.
Her heart sank as she thought of Dominic.
Maybe they’re helping him now, she thought anxiously, looking around herself. The other elves in the clearing still watched her with gleaming eyes, but they stood silent and motionless.
Gwyn crossed her arms across her thinly clad chest and sat back against the base of the tree, her skin itching under their silent scrutiny, her stomach roiling as she waited.
