A Story of Blood and Thorns

Chapter 24

When I wake, I don't know where I am. Light pours in from an open window to my left, and with it, the sound of birds chirping and people laughing. A gauzy curtain stirs around me. Sitting outside the curtain is a girl in a chair, her features concealed by the material. An ax rests in her lap.

I groan. Slowly I try to get up, but quickly realized how futile it is when I bite my lip to keep from crying out. Sharp pain lances through my head and colorful spots flash in front of my eyes. It feels like my whole body has been beaten and broken a million times. Every movement causes some muscle or bone to ache.

Clutching the soft sheets to steady me, I remember where I am. The palace. The events come surging back, making my head give another painful throb.

My fingers clamber at the nightgown I wear. I pull the fabric up around my chest to stare at the wound on my belly. A red spot covers my entire right side. Black thread holds the skin closed, but a clear liquid seeks through. In the light, I examine the rest of my body. On each arm are great purple bruises that will not heal in the coming days. Against my pale skin, they are grotesque; like monsters eating through skin to emerge someday. At least I don't have any broken bones - what would I do then?

I sigh and roll my nightgown down again. The girl-Isadora- still sleeps, snoring softly. Outside, animals scanner across the balcony, disappearing in the vines covering the railing. Three crows hop around, searching for food. One stabs its beak into the mess, emerging victorious with a grasshopper. It gulps it down. The other birds watch it before trying it themselves.

Bracing myself against the headboard, I slip out of bed. The movement brings short gasps to my mouth, reminding me that I'm not to be moving. I limp over to the window. Warmth seeks into my bones from the sunlight, pushing away the cold. Down below, people stride through the garden, parasols open to save their skin. Two boys run on the paths, playing with wooden swords. I smile at the sight. Already, palace life is rejuvenated.

"Evangeline?" a soft voice says behind me. I turn to see Isadora approaching. Her ax shines on the chair. She flies at me, wrapping her arms around my waist. Her shoulders shake with sobs. "I'm so glad you're okay."

I clutch her, savoring the comfort she brings me. She squeezes me a fraction tighter and I breathe slower, my body melting into hers as every muscle loses its tension into the soft air. Despite the pain in my stomach, it flutters at her closeness. Her touch makes the cold distant. I burrow my face into her neck, not wanting the moment to end. And she doesn't want it either.

We're interrupting by the door creaking open, a head with horns peering in. At the sight of us, Drakon says, "I can come back?"

Isadora gives him an obscene gesture, but I pull back. Already, I miss her embrace. "No, come in."

Drakon comes in, followed by the older fairy. Her hair is loose, floating behind her in a chestnut wave. It parts around her horns. Her wings twitch, tucked in tight to her body to avoid knocking anything over. Instead of battle clothes, she wears a fitted green dress with a belt around her waist.

"How are you feeling?" Drakon asks. He wears a black shirt that shines in the sunlight. Straps crisscross his chest, holding the shirt together. Over it, he wears a long black coat. It brushes against the floor. He holds a stick with a green orb at the top, pulsating with light.

I hug him, feeling his muscles tense then relax. "Thank you," I say. Without him, we would've lost. "How can I repay you?"

He lifts me away, examining me. Concern flashes in his face. "By resting and building this kingdom to be better. Take care of this place."

"Are you staying?"

The older woman steps forward. Her movements are full of grace and elegance. "We need to return to Caelius to spread the news of what happened here. And to reclaim our home."