To Live Again

7. Homecoming

Kept in the dark seems to be the mantra of my hosts. Or, maybe rabble of rebels is a better description. Ardan sends me brief glances of concern from my curled position in the corner of the weapons wagon. A corner I've been allocated for the long journey back to the city. I feel a little like luggage, but girls with no earthly possessions should not throw stones, or dirty looks. Oisín sits by my side, braiding twine and chattering about something I've long lost track of. Despite the fabled wits of the faerie, it appears that only this little fawn seems to sense the drone of his chatter is the one thing that keeps me from shattering, and I'm content just to attune myself to it ... to him.

No one asked any questions when I returned from my encounter with Naisi. Ardan was by the tent. He simply raised an eyebrow and nodded once. He never joined me inside, and Oisín remained fast asleep the rest of the night. A full belly and cosy bed doing wonders, I could not say the same for myself. I lay awake the whole night considering every which way this bargain might play out, and how exactly I'd managed to walk myself into this.

The resounding, and oddly roomy, silence in my head alerted me to the fact that Naisi's intrusions were gone for the time being. Part of me wondered over this. Wondered over the absence and how the difference felt. Though there had been silence before I hadn't felt alone, something creeped in the crevices – caressing my thoughts with vapour fingers and curling around them. The emptiness now, well, it felt void. The realisation left me cold—hollow. When dawn broke I hadn't the energy to muster even a smile for Oisín—though a feeble attempt was made—and even less for Ardan.

Ardan's mount catches up with the wagon once again, another concerned glance my way, and eventually he clears his throat. I lift my chin, my gaze sidling from Oisín's nimble fingers and up to the captain.

"You haven't eaten or drank anything in some time, Clara," he says and nods to the water skin and parcel of bread wrapped in cloth tucked to my right. "Perhaps you'd feel better if you did?"

Better? How do I feel better about dying? Surviving, I suppose.

"I'm not hungry," I murmur, offering one of those almost smiles to try and brush over the concern. "Maybe later."

Ardan nods. "Instruction has been given that you are to have the best quarters and comfort within the palace. Once we arrive I will ensure you have servants to tend to you properly."

I tilt my head to the side. That instruction was bound to come from Naisi, and for Oisín's sake I won't utter his name, but Ardan spies the unspoken questions in my gaze and smirks.

"He has sway when it comes to the little one." Ardan motions to Oisín who has clambered to the far end of the wagon to speak to the driver. "Even the council lords and stewards would not dare cross a father's command. Besides, he needs a nursemaid, and he's clearly decided you are the favoured lady for the position."

I know I'm supposed to find comfort in that statement. That I'm supposed to chuckle along with Ardan, and be grateful for the favour ... and I am ... but my mind just feels empty. I can't quite summon the energy or think around what all of it means. Faerie Court? A lethal, deadly, wicked place if the tales are to be believed ... for a human at least ... but I'm not human anymore. That thought causes a pain to break through my chest and I inhale a sharp breath, fingers reaching to grip the wood of the open wagon. Ardan doesn't miss the movement, his brows ever deepening into a near constant frown.

"Remember what we discussed, Clara?" Ardan's question help me concentrate on breathing in and out, to pay attention at least. "You're most welcome in our kingdom as a refugee from the decimated Eastern clans." His brows rise and I nod. "It's so lucky Naisi's spirit happened upon your caravan, the only survivor." He drops his head in mock horror and shakes it. "Anything we can do to ease your suffering, lady, anything I can personally do, please do not hesitate to reach out. This is our fault. We were unprepared to receive our guests."