Chapter 24: Chapter 24

Lily

A hazy dream blurred into reality as Lily reached her hand out, her palm aching to brush against something familiar but new. It met a soft bed of moss and, confused, she startled awake.

“Hello.” A strange, wizened creature stared down at her, black eyes peering over his bulbous nose. Long fingers wrapped around a bunch of dried rosemary, but he quickly discarded his work in favour of stepping towards her.

“Hi,” she croaked, her voice shaky and uncertain from disuse. “Where am I?”

“My name is Hargrin,” the creature said kindly. He settled on her bed beside her, patting her knee. “I am Master of Herbs. Your, ah, friend,” he said the word with a twinkle in his eyes, “brought you here for my assistance. You are safe now, Lily.”

She blinked, struggling to take in her surroundings. Jars of herbs filled the shelves, and more hung from rafts in the ceiling, dangling in front of a wide, open doorway and shifting gently in the breeze. A fireplace sat back into one wall, a hearth dotted with dripping candles before it.

Her heart longed for something she could not place, though her traitorous subconscious whispered that she already knew – she just wasn’t ready to accept it. Shoving it aside was easy; her brain was clouded by the pull of sleep and the racing desire to understand her situation.

Not wanting to waste words on pointless questions, Lily ran his greeting through her mind over and over, picking out what information she could. She had no idea how long Hargrin’s benevolence would last, and, after her experiences both within her home pack and with the eleves, she was not feeling particularly trusting.

Elijah had brought her here, and told this odd little being her name. Her wounds no longer throbbed, and a quick glance at her leg revealed that her trousers had been cut away. Dried blood coated her skin, but there was no gaping wound beneath it. Only a thick, gnarled line of white remained.

“I am sorry about the scars,” Hargrin murmured. “The skin simply could not knit together cleanly, not at the speed we needed it to.”

“You healed me?” She shifted her weight away from Hargrin, unable to trust his kind face and gentle words. The physical evidence of his aid did little to calm her. She reached for her mother’s ring – the only thing she had left – and was glad to find that it still sat upon her finger.

“I did. Your friend told me what happened to you. And I feel I must warn you, Lily – there are eleves here, though they are not of the same ilk as the ones you faced. Fear and prejudice can run deep, and I would hate to see you – or them – pained because of your past.”

Inhaling a slow, shaking breath, all Lily could think to say was, “He isn’t my friend.”

Hargrin’s mouth twitched. “No,” he agreed. “He isn’t.”

She shook herself. The daze of her too-long sleep was hard to shake. Her mind and throat tumbled over a list of questions, each yanking at the bit to spill from her lips first.

“Thank you,” she began, testing her now-healed body by standing. The ground rolled beneath her, her muscles exhausted. Hargrin grabbed her elbow and lowered her back to the bed.

“He will be back soon. He carried you here – I am certain he will continue to do so. Though I know not your destination, I am sure of one thing.”

“Oh?” Lily asked, squinting through the late afternoon sunlight at him. “What’s that?” It was a waste of a question, and the other, more important ones, sagged deep within her chest. She doubted answers would come any time soon. Sleep tugged anew at her eyelids, and her breath settled.

Hargrin helped her ease onto her back. He did not speak for so long that, as she began to drift off once more, she thought she imagined his words.

“He cares for you. Stay by his side, and no harm shall befall you.”

* * *

“Lily?”

She woke slowly, gently, as if stepping reluctantly from warm bathwater. She felt as though hands held her shoulders, their touch heated and reverent, but as she blinked away sleep she saw that nobody stood within two feet of her.

Her heart soared as her eyes met his. Elijah watched her closely, his strange, grey eyes light and hopeful. The scent of fresh basil and citrus overwhelmed her, undercut with the deep, fragrant smell of bonfire smoke.

“Elijah,” she whispered. At his name, his knees almost gave out.

She patted the bed in invitation, and he stumbled to her side willingly. They stared at one another. In that moment, stars could have fallen; neither Lily nor Elijah would have noticed.

Slowly, allowing her to watch every flicker of movement, he brought the pads of his fingertips to her temple. At her slight nod, he traced a curved line from above her eye to the soft swell of her cheekbone.

“You’re well?” he asked eventually, the silence crashing around them as it shattered.

“I’m well.” She shifted back, though her body longed for more contact. “Where is Hargrin?”

He smiled ruefully, the expression making his sombre face look young, almost boyish. “He said he’d give us a few minutes.”

Giving in to her own, illogical desire, Lily rested her head against Elijah’s chest. Gently, he brought his hands up to cradle her loosely. Lily was grateful for the reminder, no matter how small, that she was no longer trapped. She could pull away whenever she wished. It was a surprise to find that no part of her wanted to move.

“What happened?” she asked, probing the subject tentatively. Part of her did not wish to know. It was peaceful, wherever they were, and it did not matter who this strange, alluring man was. Even better, it did not seem to matter who Lily was either.

“Your leg – you stumbled, and I caught you. But you blacked out, and you didn’t wake up.” His worry was apparent in the tight lines of his face, in the hard edge of his jaw. His eyes darkened at the mention of her injuries, even as something in Lily swelled, aching and shuddering and warm, at the thought of him catching her.

His arms tightened around her, but he caught himself quickly, allowing her more slack. She shuffled closer, reassuring them both.

“You didn’t wake up.” His voice had gone hoarse. “I knew we needed supplies, and my pack came here, many years ago. I knew it was a place of peace, and that we would find everything we needed within its walls.”

“Your pack?” Lily breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “You’re a wolf too, then?”

He nodded, though his eyes darted to the far corner of the room. “Yes.” His fingers tangled in the fabric of her torn and tattered shirt. He took a deep breath. “And I–“

“You’re awake. Very well.” Hargrin padded into the room, eyes glittering.

Elijah’s shoulders sagged. Lily stored his odd behaviour away to analyse later, once she knew him better. The thought caught her off guard. She wanted to know him better; she needed to. Even though decorum demanded she release him in Hargrin’s presence, her fingers dug into his muscled back. It took all of her energy and then some to get her hands to drop.

“Thank you for all you’ve done,” Elijah said, taking her hand in his as he stood. “We will not take up any more of your time. As for the matter of payment…”

Hargrin’s beady eyes shone. Even as his mouth opened, his gaze fell to the garnet ring on Lily’s finger.

“No,” she snapped, yanking her hand behind her back. “That’s – personal.”

“Here.” Elijah pulled a handful of chipped silver and gold pieces from a coin bag tucked beneath the hem of his trousers. Even as her heart thundered in her chest, her eyes widened at the wealth stowed within.

“Sentiment is worth more than gold,” Hargrin said, though not unkindly.

“It is,” Elijah agreed, though his words were cut through with steel. “Which is why such things cannot be bought.”

Hargrin resigned himself to his fate and took a heavy handful of coin. “I understand.” He turned to Lily. “I apologise if I caused you any offense. Trade has been slow in the past months, and as time and age carve away at me, I’ve started to find that objects are more powerful when imbued with emotion.”

Slowly, Lily uncurled her fist. “You may see it, if you like.”

At his nod, she brought her hand closer. She did not remove the ring, but tilted it back and forth. It shimmered softly in the flickering light of the fire and the candles spitting wax upon the hearth.

“It was my mother’s,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper. “She… died. My dad gave me the ring. And then…” her voice wobbled, “I left.”

“Come,” Elijah said, sliding an arm around her shoulders. He steered her towards the opening in the wall. “Thank you, Hargrin, for all you have done. It shall not be forgotten.” There was a second meaning to his words, one that was dark and glinted like metal in firelight.

“Of course.” Hargrin bowed his head, the gesture appearing unnatural for him. It was another clue that settled around Lily’s neck like a millstone, something to pick at and unravel later. What had been said while she slept?

Her stomach grumbled. She did not feel as hungry as she should, given the indistinct amount of time it had been since she’d last eaten. Wondering what it was Hargrin had done to her, she allowed Elijah to prop her limp body up and tow her away from the warm glow of the fire.

* * *

“There’s only one bed?”

Lily raised an eyebrow at her companion. For his part, Elijah scratched uncomfortably at the back of his neck.

“I didn’t realise,” he said, looking everywhere but at her. “Meyann said–“

“Meyann said what, exactly?”

Elijah’s throat bobbed. Lily felt sorry for him, and made an effort to soften her features.

“She said we’d be welcome here. That’s all. I didn’t know, Lily, I swear.”

She sagged, hunger and a fresh wave of exhaustion taking their toll. “It’s fine.”

“I would never–“

She cut him off. “I know.” Despite their short relationship, she could feel his sincerity. It burned, rolling off him in waves. He had been patient with her, and endlessly, effortlessly kind. No matter the cause, they had found each other. All too quickly, Lily was beginning to rely on this man.

“I know,” she said again, holding his gaze as she rested her palm on his knee. “I… trust you.” With a smirk, she added, “For good or for ill.”

He smiled. “I’m glad.”

The air between them thrummed with electricity. Needing to ground herself, Lily took a step back to survey the room – pointedly ignoring the single bed tucked into the corner.

They’d not gone far from Hargrin’s cottage. While Lily had slept, Meyann had shown Elijah the small barn they now stood in. Its owners – a pair of faelen, creatures Lily had never encountered before and still had yet to meet – kept the barn open in the spring and summer months for friends and family to sleep in.

It smelt faintly of apples, and large barrels were stacked against the far wall. Worn rugs littered the floorboards. Lily stepped carefully from one to the other, following the curved, uneven pathway towards the bed and the stout barrel beside it that served as a table. A dented sheet of metal acted as a mirror, which Lily made sure to avoid. She’d heard much talk of her new scars, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to see them just yet.

Though Lily was grateful for the place to sleep, she was somewhat unnerved by their hosts’ heritage. Faelen were known for The Longest War, and little else was taught about them in the pack school. She tried to shove down her prejudice, heeding the warning Hargrin had given her about the eleves. It was unfair to tarnish all with the same brush, and she would be wise to remember that the Blood Moon pack had a reputation, too. She’d hate to be seen as one of them, known only for violence and bloodshed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Lily began unlacing her boots. Elijah hovered uncertainly; she got the distinct feeling that he wanted to offer to help, but did not wish to patronise or offend her. She tugged the first boot free with heavy hands, letting it drop noisily onto the floor.

“I’ll return shortly,” he said, brightening suddenly.

“Where are you going?” She looked up from unlacing the second boot.

“To get us some dinner.”

At his words, her stomach growled. She flushed.

Elijah grinned. “A much needed dinner, it seems. I will be back soon, I promise.”

She nodded. As his dark form disappeared into the shroud of nightfall, Lily fixated on pulling her boot from her foot. It kept her mind and heart from wishing that, necessary as food was, he hadn’t gone.