Of Thorns and Teeth | Book 1 of The Fall

Deleted Scene: At the Moor Residence

A searing pain rippled through her torso, sharp talons raking through skin, through muscle. There was the sensation of being lifted up, displayed before all those gathered at the embankment like a fish gutted upon a pike. Crimson-red jaws—gluttonous and greedy—descended upon her outstretched leg, devouring it whole.

The pain, and the shame that came along with it, did not fare long. The cold followed soonafter.

The memory fled as Sirrin turned over to her side. Her hands slid down to her hip, down to where a bruise was starting to form on her upper thigh. But no blood.

How real the terror felt then. Yet here she was, lying warm upon sheets of clean linen and safe away from danger.

If Lara Moor's words could be believed, of course.

A moth with barley-colored wings settled on a bundle of herbs upon the bed-table. There, too, were bottles of healing oils, pieces of gauze, and a tonic infused with veryc—a mild sleep-drug. Lara Moor had left the items as they were, rushing forth to the meeting upstairs after she had attended to Sirrin. Her head grew heavy with yet another memory: that of Lara again. Dressed this time in a raiment of silk and silver, a circlet of golden stars upon her head.

"Wherefore may you be, Velaera?" she cried out. "Hearken to me, Sister-Mine, and hide no longer!"

Sirrin passed a hand over her forehead, in relief that her temperature was starting to fall. She edged up to a seated position to drink up the tonic, the least ounce of pain causing her to wince. So much for wanting to leave this place.

She clutched the blankets, pulling them up to her chin, in time as Yrian entered without knocking. At the sight of him, the tightness in her chest seemed to ease away.

"Believe it or not," she said, smiling up at him. "I'm glad you're here."

"I had to see you."

"Will you stay long?"

"For as long as I am permitted to," he answered vaguely.

Here and then, she felt a tug and a pull within her soul, sensed a presence over her shoulder. As if a third party were listening in to their conversation.

"What news do you bring? Have they found Urse yet?"

Yrian nodded, his expression grim. "They'll send word to her family at the Coastlands on the morrow. Along with a payya of eighty-five Imperial khas."

Sirrin dropped back, wishing she had not heard right. Payya in one of the Coastland tongues translated to "A Sign of Death." She herself learned it from Urse herself, one morning when she was fixing her hair.

"You did all you could," he said. "It was all out of your hands."

"And you believe that?"

"Yes."

"I wish I could believe it myself, truth be told."

He took his seat by her bedside. "I'll have you know, they'll double up the watch for Ashenlight within the next few weeks. Scheduled curfews after dark, additional numbers of Protectors roving around the premises of Samarna. All these measures, if only to prevent another untoward incident such as this from happening again."

"I expected as much, but what can we do?" she sighed.

"Nothing, I assume. Also, from here on out we'll all be forced to keep up appearances once more. For good or for ill. Perhaps this may be our last conversation—given the circumstances."

"Please don't start with that, I beg you," she sighed. "If I've ever not made my feelings clear—"

"I'll always think of you," he replied. "I want you to know that."

Sirrin slowly turned her gaze toward him, and here he laughed. "What's so funny?" she asked through gritted teeth. "And why are you looking at me like that?"

"You look as if you're expecting a different sort of confession. One, perhaps, which will make it all the more easier for you to justify your choice: to be oathbound to a man you do not love."

"Before we parted ways," she started. "You said you would honor my choice—that you would not stop me from proceeding on with the betrothal. And yet here you are, saying all these things to me." A sly smile crept up her lips. "I say you are as much a fool as I am."

In the cavern of her mind a voice floated out, singing a song of a sweet summer idyll. Sirrin took this to be an effect of the sleeping tonic. In a matter of moments, she would drift off to a gentle slumber, and he would be gone from her side. She laid her head against his chest, even as the singing drowned out all the other sounds in the room. How bold she felt then, even uncharacteristically so.

"What is love, but a sliver of frost on a cold spring day..."

"Go along," Sirrin murmured. "She sings to me. Let her sing me to sleep."

A/N: Here's a deleted scene which was supposed to be a part of the final chapter (right after Rud's PoV.) It's gonna be the first of three bonus chapters, which I'll be adding over the next few weeks. Truth is, I'm actually wondering if I should have deleted this in the first place, so I wanna know what you guys think?

Dedicated to anneka95 for the suggestion ;-)

Music: "Come, Gentle Night" by Abel Korzeniowski