The Woods

Chapter Twenty

I couldn't recall what happened after I went to bed that night. I heard whispers in my dreams, felt a kiss to my brow and heard someone murmuring softly to me, though I didn't hear what they were saying. As the dream went on, I found myself almost smiling, though I wasn't sure why. I felt . . . peaceful.

"Will she be alright?" Someone's voice pierced through my dreams and I felt my brow furrow. They sounded so familiar, as if I had heard them before. It sounded like-

My eyes shot open and I found myself staring up at Delilah. She seemed conflicted, as if she was unsure whether to be happy or afraid. She offered me a nervous smile. Standing next to her was her younger sister, Emily.

"Delilah," I murmured, rubbing my eyes. "What happened?"

"Oh, Fida, I was afraid you would never wake up!" She flung herself on me, wrapping her arms around my neck in an embrace. "After you were chosen, I thought I would never see you again. But then early this morning we found you unconscious at the edge of the Woods. Fida, what happened?" She pulled away, gripping my shoulders and staring at me intently.

I wasn't sure how to reply. Would I so willingly give away the secrets of the Fae? And even if I did, would it lead to war between the races? No, I concluded, it was too risky. I couldn't let them know anything.

"I don't remember," I finally replied. My tongue almost burned with the lie. Never before had I lied to her. "Everything after being taken into the Woods is hazy. How long was I gone?"

"A month," she replied. I frowned; time seemed different in the Woods. It felt like I was gone for much longer. Or perhaps I had just grown attached to my life there. I had given up so much when I walked into the Woods. Not that it was my choice, but my stomach still twisted with guilt.

"Del, tell her," Emily suddenly said. I glanced between them, sensing some sort of nervousness between them.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my stomach twisting. I was afraid to know.

"Oh Fida," Delilah murmured. "Your father is very ill. Mother is with him now, but we don't think he has much time left."

I stared at her for several moments, a sudden throbbing rush in my blood. Before she could say anything else, I was already out of the room, all but throwing myself outside. I didn't care that I was in a nightdress, nor that people gave me looks of horror as they recognised me. I shoved past them all, my mind set on nothing but reaching my house.

When I finally reached the bakery, I yanked the door open, but no familiar warmth hit me. It was stone cold, clear that Father hadn't worked for a while. I didn't bother closing the door behind me as I climbed the stairs, somehow avoiding tripping, and burst into Father's room. Just the sight of him made me stop in my tracks.

Father lay in the bed, as white as a sheet, his eyes barely open. Delilah's mother was sitting on the side of the bed, holding a damp cloth to his forehead. He looked like death itself.

"Father!" I cried, running to him and dropping onto the floor beside him. I clung his hand to my chest, my hands trembling. "Father, it's me, Fida."

His head shifted to the side and it looked as if he was struggling to keep his eyes open. "My Fida," he murmured. He lifted his other hand to cup my cheek. Even doing something so simple seemed to be a struggle. I placed a hand over his, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep it up. "You have a light in your eyes."

"That doesn't matter, Father," I said, holding back a sob. "I'm here, and I will never leave again. You just need to rest, okay?"

He smiled, albeit sadly, and shook his head. "Your mother had that light. You look so much like her."

"Don't you dare," I growled, though my voice was weak. I knew where he was going with this. I knew exactly what he meant.

"Just like you," he murmured, "she had pride." He paused, his smile becoming warm. "Be happy, Fida."

His eyes slipped shut. His hand went limp under my own. "No," I murmured. "Father. Father, please." I could barely register the tears sliding down my cheeks. Leaning forward, I pressed my fingers against his neck, but felt no pulse. I felt numb.

My shoulders shook as I let out an agonised cry. He was gone. There was no other way to express the pain that filled me, other than to let out howls that shuddered with sobs.

I found myself being pried off Father by Delilah's mother. I fought her, kicking and screaming, but she managed to pull me off him and hold me to her chest. She rocked me back and forth as I howled again and again until my throat was raw.

I howled for my father. I howled for the world I left behind.

And most of all, I howled for him.

***

I was numb. For once, I couldn't feel anything at all. Perhaps it was the rain that soaked my clothing. Perhaps it was the knowledge that I had nothing to live for anymore. In just three days, I had lost my life in the Woods, the king, and my father.

I stood before the simple stone, the freshly turned earth in front of it seeming to taunt me. Delilah and her family had long returned to their home, with the empty offers for me to stay with them that night. They knew I wouldn't accept.

I seemed to stand there hours before eventually turning away and trudging back to the house. The cemetery was on the other side of town, but I was already soaked to the bone, so the rain didn't bother me.

As I walked, I was surprised to see two figures approaching me, both wearing blue cloaks. We grew closer and I soon realised they were the two lower Representatives. It was clear that they were there for me, so I stopped and let them close the gap between us.

"You are required to come with us to the Head Representative," one said.

"Tomorrow." My voice was blunt and they looked as if they were about to argue, but paused. They likely noticed my clothing; black for mourning. I was curious to see their reaction. Would they insist to obey their superior, or would they disobey in respect of my father?

"Very well," the other finally replied. "We expect you there in the morning. But this is the one time you may deny his command."

I didn't reply, rather pushing past them and continuing on my way home. It was likely they would be punished for disobeying him, but in those moments, I didn't care.

The bakery was still cold as I entered it and I shivered; the feeling unnatural. I couldn't help but expect the warmth from the ovens and the scent of fresh bread. For a couple of minutes, all I could do was stand in the doorway silently. The building seemed foreign to me. Wrong.

Letting out a shuddering breath, I began to make my way upstairs and took off my sodden cloak. I dropped down in front of the hearth and fumbled with the flint as I tried to make sparks. My hands were trembling.

After a few minutes, I managed to light the kindling to a steady flame, and added a log to burn. For a few moments, I sat before the flames and let the crackling consume me. It would take a few hours for the whole room to warm, and even longer for my clothes to dry.

I rose and went to my room, changing into my nightgown and hanging my black dress in front of the fire so it could dry. My room was as cold as ice, from both being unused and the cold night. I knew that sleeping there would likely make me sick, so I dragged my blanket and pillow to the hearth and curled up in front of it. Not the most comfortable way to sleep, but I was at least warm.

Sleep was slow to come to me, and so I was left to think. My mind drifted to my time in the Woods and it was a battle to clear my head of the thoughts. I wanted to forget; needed to forget. There were so many unanswered questions, enough to drive me insane if I kept dwelling on them.

And so, I decided life goes on. I would forget.