The Weaver's Source

Chapter 59

I wasn't so certain how much time before Lillith arrived with help but I was deathly cold by the time she had arrived. Rain was poured and had completely drenched my clothes, sticking them to me so closely it was as if they were a second skin. My usual unruly hair was now plastered to my face and I felt entirely numb as I shivered violently. But I continued to shield Grigore as much as I could, curling about his head and wiping away the rain from his skin.

I would've smiled at the sight of tiny lights and the sound of shouts if it didn't feel like my face was going to shatter with the movement. I stared up at the giant figure's approach, blinking hard against the rain. Lillith raised her lantern, illuminating her face and hard expression, as deep gasps and whispers came from the villagers. No doubt they could see the great black hulking corpse that lay utterly unmoving.

"I'm here now, Lyra." Lillith said comfortingly. "We'll get you in my hut where you'll be relatively warm."

I simply nodded and looked to the man who knelt down next to me. It was Ian, the innkeeper. "We'll take good care of Grigore."

"I didn't think anyone would come." I said honestly and as clearly as I could as I gazed at a man I had never seen before and the familiar face of the woman I had saved, Giselle. She smiled warmly at me. "I thought people would be too scared."

"If Lillith can roam in the dark without getting killed, anyone can." Ian said with smile then slipped his hand between my lap and Grigore's head. "Now get up. Go with Lillith. We'll carry Grigore back."

I needed help to stand and Giselle was there in a shot to help me. My bones were practically frozen into place and I shook violently. She gave me another cloak and Lillith reached out to take my hand, giving me strength as her song sang with my own. I refused to go until I saw Ian and another man pick Grigore up. They strained a little, apparently he was quite heavy. Seeing Grigore safe and Ursus in the hands of Giselle, I let Lillith guide me away.

I walked with difficulty, my legs refused to move quickly, but Lillith didn't seem to mind. She herself needed to go at a slow pace, the mud and rain didn't agree with her and her stick slipped often. Often she muttered to me, trying to soothe my worry. She promised she would rescue his arm, to ensure it remained in working order, and that she would cook me up a hot and hearty stew once she had finished work on him. I simply listened and the only sound I made was the chattering of teeth.

Some time passed and I was clambering up the crooked steps of Lillith's hut. Giselle helped me, giving me support until I opened the door and stumbled inside. Once Lillith was inside, Grigore was dragged in after.

I huddled in the corner with Giselle rubbing my arms in an attempt to warm me, watching as Lillith directed Ian and the other man in placing Grigore on her straw bed. She needed his arm facing the open room and, once he was placed, she asked for hot water and nothing else. Once Giselle handed Ursus over to me, they left without a word, hurrying to leave Lillith to work as quickly as possible. Only Ian gave Grigore a sparing glance and me a supportive smile before he vanished into the storm.

Lillith closed the door and hauled off her boots with effort as I gazed at Ursus sadly. It was virtually washed in the rain but there were still red taints of blood on the hilt and blade. Lillith stripped her cloak off and ordered me to undress entirely as she gathered me a spare woollen dress. It took some time and eventually she gave up waiting and helped me after my stiff fingers refused to work. Now stark naked, Lillith pulled the dress over my head, letting the hem pool at my feet. It was far too long for me, but feeling the warmth and dryness of it instantly calmed the shaking.

"It's something dry, which is what you need most." Lillith said as she chucked my soaking clothes in the corner. "Now, sit. I'll get you warm."

She began to throw logs on her old fireplace as I trailed to Grigore's side. As I waited wordlessly, my eyes never left Grigore. He was drenched and his arm still wrapped in my cloak, but it wasn't the muddish brown colour I recalled it being. It was now almost black with blood. His face was white and his scars seemed to stand out even more than usual, his chest rising and falling in laborious motions and his brow creased with pain. I was too numb and exhausted to be worried. I was completely drained.

I quietly stood over him, keeping myself out of the way as Lillith tore about the room. She ripped open bags and cupboards, gathering needles, threads, knives, scissors and cloths, piling them beside Grigore. The door knocked once and Ian came in after a sharp demand from Lillith.

"I've got the water." He said breathlessly.

"Good. Let's get started."

Ian nodded and placed the iron bucket beside her. I hadn't realised Ian also intended to help Lillith as well with Grigore's arm.

"Lyra, go rest over there." She instructed firmly, gesturing to her old chair beside the roaring fire. I did so nervously, wanting to help but aware I'd just be in the way, and stepped away as Lillith pulled free his jack and remaining vambrace then cut away his ruined shirt.

I sat quietly, watching with pale eyes as Lillith and Ian worked. I heard the tearing of flesh, snipping of scissors and smelt the stench of blood. Ian helped as much as he could but I could see the distress and fear in his eyes. I knew he had never seen such damage before. He had muttered at one point that it was useless, that the arm was lost, only to be snapped at by Lillith and told to keep working.

By the time they had finished, I was barely awake and the storm was roaring beyond the four bowed weather-worn walls weakly. Ian and Lillith sat on their knees, leaning back and observing their work with doubt.

"That's all we can do now." Lillith muttered and threw a blanket over Grigore. "We'll see when he wakes if it still works."

"Here's hoping." Ian sighed and observed his bloody hands. "I should get back now."

"Thank you for your help, Ian." Lillith said as he stood, wiping his bloodied arms down with a hot cloth.

He simply grinned, wished us goodnight and left the hut. I was quiet as Lillith gathered up her utensils and began to heat another bucket of water to cleanse them. Grigore's face was still ghostly white but his arms was now wrapped in white cloth. Some places was stained red but mostly it was clean.

"Will he be okay?" I asked softly, never once letting my eyes shift from his silent face.

"He should be. He'll live at least." Lillith said as she cleaned away the blood from her hands. "His arm should work still. I've fixed it as much as I can and, as his body is still immortal as he's proven by the other wounds that have healed, he'll fix the rest himself. I'm hoping the work we've done is enough for it heal correctly." I nodded and her eyes softened at my blank gaze. "I'll get on and make you a bath and stew. I know it is late but some food will do us both good."

Again, I nodded dumbly, and Lillith turned and began to gather food. I sat in my chair only for a moment longer before an urge to be close to Grigore took over. Not even bothering to resist it, I stood and approached him, hitching up the long dress as best as I could so I wouldn't trip. I sat beside him and stared at his face. Now that I was closer, he did look a little healthier. There was some colour in his skin now and his brow was softer. I touched his face, feeling the coarse skin absentmindedly and tracing a few of the scars. Some trailed down from his neck to his chest and, like his face, there were lines of skin where hair had failed to grow back. There was quite an ugly one at his hip. It was thick, as if a great tooth had torn the flesh away long ago. It made me wonder what other kind of monsters he had faced and how many times he had come close to death.

I stopped observing his ruined body and gripped his large limp hand. I pulled his arm away and curled up beside him, resting my head on his chest and hooked his arm over my waist, holding his hand tightly and keeping myself as close to him as possible. Hearing his heartbeat and feeling his breath was such a relief to me. I knew he wasn't going to die but it had felt like it he was. Watching the dog tear him to bits and chuck him around like a rag-doll had been terrifying. Seeing his arm was even worse. I hadn't fully believed Lillith when she said he had enough magic to retain his immortality but his breathing was even and slow, his heart was strong and his arm was treated. I believed her now.

And with this belief came a wave of utter exhaustion. Before Lillith even finished her stew, I was drifting off to sleep beside Grigore, listening to his heartbeat thud evenly in his chest and feeling the strength of his body against mine with a sense of warm contentment. It felt so safe and snug in his arms, better than any bed could offer. I found myself wanting to sleep beside him often, to feel this sense of belonging again.

Not once did Lillith try to wake me. Instead she simply smiled at me and ate alone before pulling out a small book and scrawling inside it, watching as the storm passed over the world and the dawn rise behind it.