My Voice for My Heart

Chapter 20: A New Voice

I heard nine men make plans to kidnap the daughter of the lord, and it confirmed what I knew; there was evil lurking at Lord Arden's before the fire witch arrived.

Then I saw the forest devoured by flames, and I saw the swans in the sky.

Keela disappeared, and the nine were to blame.

I scoured the woods for her. I went to the lake and I asked the undine, who merely laughed at me and advised me to find another human to set my sights on. I pretended to be angry, offended, but I wasn't. Her answer told me what I needed to know.

The undine protected her. That was why I couldn't find her in the forest.

So I followed the river until it became a stream, and then dipped underground. That's where I found the cave.

I avoided the traps meant to spring open and alert her of my presence. I placed my feet carefully and stopped when the wind change directions. A yellow dog guarded the entrance. I saw him sniff the air and heard him growl, but then the wind changed, blowing my scent away, and a bird fluttered out of a bush and I was forgotten. I could see signs of her everywhere: a spindle, a mat, a shirt spread out on a rock to dry in the summer sun. She was not here, so I waited.

I can be very patient.

Soon enough I heard her footsteps. She was trying to be quiet, but my every sense was attuned to her and I could feel her before I could see her.

Her hair was blonder, as if the sun had lightened it. My heart pounded when I saw her green eyes flick nervously around the woods. I heard her exhaled breath of relief when the dog bounded to meet her, pawing at her skirt for attention.

She didn't speak, but smiled a small secret smile that made my lips turn up in response. My eyes went to the yellow flowers she carried. Something about their form jarred me, making me look at them closer.

Yellow spiked leaves, feathery green stems; it was distaff thistle.

I felt a heat encompass my body and I stepped forward, stopping at the last minute when I would have revealed myself.

She carefully placed the plant on the ground, as if it were precious. She pressed her hands against her skirts as she readied to sit, and I saw her hands.

Broken bleeding skin. Reddened swollen joints. Misshapen fingers that resembled bird's talons more than a lady's hands.

My body got hotter and I struggled to contain my rage. My hand came up to my forehead, rubbing away the tightness. Only the knowledge that I needed to understand what was happening stopped me from going to her.

She began to separate the plants, her eyebrows drawing together, her bottom lip held tightly under her teeth. Even the dog looked upset. He sat at her knee, watching her mash the plants, separating the fibers, and begin to spin them together.

He whined low in his throat as he watched her purposefully injure herself. He was as confused as I was. Had she lost her mind? 
She spun the plants and then began the process again and again, until she'd used all of the plants she'd dropped at her feet. She stood, stretching her body from side to side, and plunging her hands into the cold stream. The water rolled by me, tinged pink with the blood from a million tiny pricks of thorns.

She kneeled at the stream, keeping her hands in the water much longer than I'd be able to, because even at the height of summer, the water was icy.

When she finally stood and left, the dog trotting eagerly behind her, I let myself investigate further. She'd brought the spindle and thread back into the cave and I entered it cautiously. It was clear she'd been settled in for a while. It was clean, but lived in. I looked for the thread, hoping to see the reason for her behavior, but it was nowhere to be seen.

If it was hidden, then it was important. I went to the back of the cave, and what I thought was the wall, I saw was a trick of perception. The way that the rocks were placed gave the appearance of a wall, but it was actually just a stone outcropping. It was there I found her treasure. The thread, yards of thread, bundled and carefully wrapped. At the this part of the cave I could hear the trickle of an underground spring, and felt a little trepidation that the undine would find me in a place she'd so obviously made just for Keela. I reached out a hand and picked up a skein, sucking in a breath when the thistle pierced my skin.

The anger I was holding back erupted. This was Balthair's fault. It was all of their fault. Their stupid plans, their unnatural ideas; they'd brought her to this.

I knew what this was. It was Keela, cursed to save them. It was her pain as the sacrifice that would save them from whatever evil they'd found themselves immersed.

I wouldn't let her endure any more pain for them.

I breathed deeply, beginning to formulate a plan. It would take time. I would need to set up the players carefully.

But the result would save her. She would see what they were, what they truly were. She would see that she deserved more than them.