Hidden in the Heartwood {sapphic paranormal}

CHAPTER NINETEEN

19. || o' death.

Silver blades of grass swished around River's knees, dampening their trousers with dew as they waded through the moonlit meadow. Nearing the apple tree, they stumbled over one of the hiking boots they'd lent to the woman. A couple feet ahead, the mason jar laid on its side, opened, and no longer holding the talisman.

"Boots, what...?"

Bathed in moonlight, she laid curved in a crescent atop a bed of lavender cosmos and aster. Had she not been moving, River would've thought her to be dead, but she was fussing with the top of her bare foot. Dark blood stained her fingers as she plunged them into a raw wound, digging between bone and sinew.

"Woah," River fell to her side and clasped her hand, "Boots, stop, what are ya doin'?"

"I can't get the worms out."

"Worms? What—"

"Maggots."

They glanced around, but no trees moved, the ground was calm beneath them. Their eyes fell back down on the woman who looked neither frightened nor panicked, just fixated on her foot, all too determined.

"May I?" River asked, gently lifting both their hands away. Blood had already started to coagulate around the edge of the wound, but as they examined the inner layers of tissue they could find no evidence of any worms—maggots or otherwise. "I uh, I think ya got 'em all."

She shook her head against the grass. "I still feel 'em."

"Maybe so." Pulling a clean handkerchief from their pocket, River raised her foot to their lap and pressed firm. "But they only feed on dead tissue, Boots. Then they leave. Hungry for their next host."

This seemed to resonate something in her as she turned to look up at them for the first time, all glassy-eyed beneath wrinkled brows. "Your shirt's all torn."

"Yeah?" They laughed a little and glanced down at themself. "I uh, got into a wrestlin' match with a jaggerbush on my way through the woods. Guess who won?"

"You looked nice tonight, River. I wanted to tell you that, though I know I shouldn't." Her eyes lowered to her hands as she spread her fingers out wide. "Fuck," she groaned into her palms. "It's getting worse. I don't even know what's real anymore."

River looked down at her foot and lifted the hankie to check the bleeding. It had clotted off some and they bandaged her up enough to at least get her back to her cabin. Colder than earlier, her skin was like the northside of a gravestone, leeching heat from their hands. Unfastening the coyote cowl from their neck, they draped its hide over her. "Ya know, you're gonna freeze to death all soaked in this dew."

"Wouldn't that be somethin'," the woman mumbled. "I knew it was a possibility when I grabbed the wheel. I just didn't expect it to actually happen. Not like this. After everything the Demon put me through..." She cursed a little more into her hands, muttering stuff that didn't much make sense, then pushed up to sit. "We need to find the other talismans."

As she tried to stand, River grabbed her frozen hands and tugged her back down. "What? Now? No, ya need sleep. You're exhausted."

"I'm good now."

"Ya just dug a hole in your foot, lookin' for worms. You're not good, Boots." River rubbed her hands between theirs, trying to warm them. "But that's okay 'cause you're not alone either. Trust me, I want nothin' more than to find these talismans so I can—" Biting their lip, they glanced up the mountain towards the old hemlock. So I can be free of the curse, they wanted to say. "So the dead can finally move on. But ya need rest."