25. The Ferrier

Chapter 25

The Ferrier

M y shadows were restless. They sensed my desire to pace and fidget even as I willed my body to calm. I leaned against the wall outside the bathing chamber, arms and legs crossed in what might be seen as a casual gesture but was really the only way I saw fit to constrain the energy winding its way through my veins.

I'd regretted my outburst this morning the moment the words had left my lips, but she hadn't pursued me, hadn't returned to her room at all. I listened all morning for the sound of her light footsteps, for news from my shadows that she'd retired. All for naught. She'd slept in the library to avoid the monster of the house.

I'd lashed out, but I knew better. It wasn't her fault she'd been here when I needed space. It wasn't her fault I would suffer this task for eternity unless my debt could be paid. She was helping to pay that debt. I should be grateful for her presence, not punishing her.

When I'd finally worked up the courage to seek her out, I'd nearly come undone at the sight of her sleep-mussed. It brought me no small amount of joy to vex her, to stoke that fire of hers that thawed a part of me that had been frozen far too long.

Then she'd mentioned bathing and my mind had immediately conjured images of her slipping off her clothes, her chestnut waves fanning out around her as the water obscured her more intimate areas.

My shadows grew still, alerting me to Katrin's approach before I could sense her. I swallowed thickly. When had I started thinking of her as Katrin ?

She appeared around the corner before I could wrap my brain around the change.

"Miss Fil'Owen," I said more for my peace of mind than to welcome her.

" Lord Ferry," she sighed, trudging down the hall with her arms burdened by a heap of dark cloth.

As she neared, I gestured to the clothing in her arms. "Allow me."

I crooked two fingers, and one of my shadows sprang forward to relieve her. She cocked a brow at it before handing over the bundle.

"Are they your slaves?" she asked. Her fingers stretched toward the one that held her clothes.

"I don't care for that word."

"It doesn't matter if you like it if that's what they are."

I considered the idea. "No, they are not slaves. Not exactly." I glanced at the living shadows that haunted my steps. "I hardly notice their presence anymore. Not like you do, I mean. They're like the fingers of my hand. I know they are there. I use them regularly. In fact, I would sorely miss their usefulness were I to lose them, but they aren't at the forefront of my mind if that makes sense. In some part, they are an extension of me, of my power as the Ferrier. Our relationship is symbiotic. I do something for them, and they do things for me."

She squinted at the shadow, tilting her head to one side as she regarded it. "Are they sentient?"

"If you'd have asked me before you arrived, I'd have said no. They are more alive with you here. I'm not positive to what extent they can think for themselves, but they seem to have emotional responses to stimuli." I watched as the shadow turned an approximation of a head to mirror Katrin. "And personal agendas," I added, remembering the way they'd shepherded me into her father's study.

I opened the door to the bathing chamber. Moist heat wafted into the hall in curls of steam as I motioned for Katrin to enter first.

I inhaled as she brushed past, and her scent struck me. It was no secret that she'd traveled for some time and wore the dirt of the road upon her, so I hadn't been lying when I said she needed to bathe. However, my motives may have been more selfish than they seemed.

Her scent drove me mad. She was lilacs and warm summer breezes, and I wanted more than anything to scrub the aroma from her skin, to replace it with everything that was ordinary and between. So that every time we shared space, I could breathe without remembering all I'd traded away.

The shadows lingered after she entered. Even eyeless, I felt their stares—their judgment—like they knew my thoughts. I raised a brow in their direction. If they had something to say, they would need to acquire the power of speech.

I followed Katrin into the bath, and the shadows swooped in after.

Logs crackled and popped in the hearth, the fire I'd started while waiting now roared to life. I wore only a light tunic and trousers, but even that was too much. Sweat collected on the back of my neck and ran in rivulets down my face and chest.

A large clawfoot tub sat before the fire. I was certain that in my life it had been white with copper feet. Here, it was a black monstrosity that swallowed the light of the flame. A small table lay next to it, laden with all manner of soaps, oils, combs, and towels.

Katrin stood facing the fire, the warm glow a stark contrast to the dark markings on her face. I'd never seen anything like her mark. I had no idea if it was truly a mark of Death as she thought. It did nothing to hide the gentle curve of her cheekbone or the arch of her brow as she turned my way.

"Aren't you meant to be showing me how to do this?" she asked.

Chastened, I strode to where she stood. The compact chamber felt smaller still by the presence of the shadows which seemed to take up no space and fill half the room at the same time. I let them be if only for the futility of asking them to leave. For what reason would we need space or privacy? I would only show her how to fill the tub, and then I would leave.

I stepped up to the large cauldron hanging beside the fireplace.

"The water pump is here," I said, gesturing beside me. "All you need to do is fill the pot and put it over the fire to heat." It took several seconds for the water to pour forth. Moving the lever up and down, I waited until the water began to flow then gestured for her to try.

She struggled at her first attempts but eventually managed to fill the cauldron. I showed her how to use the iron poker to swing it over the fire.

"You'll need to do this several times to fill the tub, so it's best to get the water piping hot lest the bath cool before you get in."

"And how do I get the water from the pot to the tub?"

"I'm sure if you ask nicely your shadows will do it."

She squinted at me in surprise. "They'll listen to me?"

In response, one dark form separated from the rest. It twined around her legs like a hungry cat, turning transparent in the flickering light of the fire. She giggled as it danced around her, ruffling her hair and winding through her fingers.

I nodded as the shadow retreated, rejoining the darkened corners of the room. "They appear quite fond of you."

She hummed thoughtfully and sat on the lip of the tub.

We lapsed into silence as we waited for the water to heat. When it was near boiling, I showed her how the poker became a hook that she could use to pull the cauldron from the flames. Once it was out of the fire, I beckoned the shadows to empty it into the tub.

Katrin observed without comment and rose to start the process again.

I should have left once I verified her confidence with the process. She had no further need of me. Instead, I leaned against the wall, content to observe her while she wasn't fearful or arguing with me.

"How did you do this before the shadows?"

I straightened. "Pardon?"

"This was your home, right? Before…"

I heard the words she'd left unspoken. "Before I turned into the monster that steals children from their mother's arms?"

She flinched as the words struck their blow. I couldn't seem to keep my tongue from cutting.

"Before you became the Ferrier."

I didn't ask how she'd figured it out, focusing instead on her first question. "Before Tyr Anigh was lost to The Between—" and me with it , "—there were hundreds of people staffed here, including those who would run the baths."

"What happened to them all?"

Though her gaze remained fixed on the pot of water, I had a sense that she was more focused on my words than the state of her bath.

"I killed them."

Her head whipped to me, mouth parted, eyes searching mine for the retraction I could not give.

"You killed hundreds of people?" she whispered.

And there it was, the fear that lurked beneath the surface of our encounters. The proof that I was the monster I claimed to be.

The truth tumbled from my lips unbidden. "It was not by my hand, but rather a result of my actions that they died."

A line formed between her brows. "I don't understand."

"No. I suppose you wouldn't."

I sprang to my feet, effectively cutting off the conversation. The water was nearly boiling as I pulled the pot from the fire. Again, my shadows poured it into the tub.

This time, when she made to rise, I held out a hand to stop her and took up the pump myself. Her gaze branded my back as I worked the lever up and down.

I yearned to see inside her mind. She'd taken up permanent residence in my own.

With every pump another question sprang to mind. Up, down. What was she thinking? Up, down. Did she finally see the monster with whom she'd bargained? Up, down. Was this the final straw? Up, down. Would she leave?

These questions compounded in my mind, forming a wall I couldn't breach. It joined the many others I'd built up over years. I was a veritable fortress. Solid and impenetrable. Cold and unfeeling.

I pumped and pumped until a pair of delicate hands, one pale and one shadowed, froze me in place. Her touch was feather light, but it struck me like lightning, igniting every nerve.

Neither fear nor loathing contorted her face. The inner corner of her brows tipped up and her mouth was a hard line, but she didn't balk at the contact with my fevered skin. Warm brown eyes met mine and held, unwavering, until they flicked to the floor and back again.

I glanced down and noted the puddle beneath our feet.

"This would be so much easier if you had power over heat instead of darkness." She chuckled, but the attempt at humor was lost on me as I fought for composure.

Coming to my senses, I pushed the cauldron over the fire which hissed its discontent as water splashed onto it.

"Death has power over fire. At least, the current one does."

"I thought Death was cold. Wait. Did you say the current Death?" Katrin asked, returning to her seat on the tub.

I leaned back against the wall and sighed as a chill skittered over my neck. Pulling more of my shadows to me, I let their cold ease the tension in my shoulders.

"People talk about the cold touch of Death, but what they feel are the Shadows of Death." I gestured to those holding space around us. "Death is a title, a position like any other. He is King of the Afterworld. The current king—Behryn—has fire magic."

Her face contorted as this information warred with what she'd already thought about him.

"It's not as pleasant as it sounds, I assure you." I shifted at the memory of those flames upon my skin.

"So, this King… Behryn? It is his mark I bear?" Her darkened fingers traced over the matching skin of her face.

"It would appear so." I had no evidence to the contrary, but neither was I convinced of this fact.

"Why shadows? Why not burning embers or fever?"

I shrugged. I truly hadn't given much thought to her marks. "Perhaps because fevers are not as visible and burning embers would cause permanent damage. Death has a flair for the dramatic. I'm sure he thought to mark you with darkness until it claimed you completely."

We lapsed into silence again, the crackling logs the only sound between us. The shadows rushed forward to empty the cauldron. With the bath now two-thirds full, it was past time for me to leave.

"Enjoy your bath, Miss Fil'Owen." Pushing off from the wall, I headed for the door, ready to put this entire day behind me.

"Wait!"

Against my better judgment, I did. She faced me now, though she didn't meet my eyes as I turned. Her hands bunched the fabric of her skirt, eyes downcast as she wrung the material again and again. She'd captured her bottom lip between her teeth, and I had a sudden vision of my mouth replacing hers, of nipping her full lip and kissing away the pain.

I stifled a groan, cursing my body for preserving the worst parts of its humanity.

"I could use some assistance with my buttons." She turned, displaying a long, tidy row of black buttons. "If you wouldn't mind, oh mighty shepherd."

My fingers flexed as I considered her request. It was innocent enough. Of course, the shadows could provide her all the assistance she needed, but I'd stayed this long. Part of me had been longing to touch her since I'd found her half asleep in the library.

She glanced over her shoulder when I didn't immediately respond, and it was my turn to avert my gaze.

This was a mistake, but apparently, I was making a lot of those lately.

I crossed to her in the span of a breath. Brushing her hair over one shoulder, I was struck again by her intoxicating scent and resisted the desire to breathe in deeply. My hands trembled as I reached for the first of the delicate buttons. With a push of my thumb, it slipped free from its loop and I moved on to the next one.

I'd found a rhythm by the tenth button. At the twelfth, she inhaled a stuttering breath, and I wondered if she'd been holding hers like I had.

"I don't suppose you'd see fit to tell me your name now," she said and my fingers stilled.

"And why would I do that?"

Goosebumps rose where my breath met her exposed skin.

"Surely, you can't expect me to continue referring to you by your title after you've practically undressed me." She laughed though her voice was high-pitched and breathy.

My hands fell away. "So that is your game." I'd been a fool, but so had she. She'd taunted the monster. My arm snaked around her middle, pulling her flush against the hard evidence of my arousal. I nudged her head to one side with my cheek and inhaled up the length of her exposed neck. "If you think you haven't driven me mad since the very moment we met, you are mistaken. If you think I haven't wanted to strip you bare and learn all the places those shadows touch, you are mistaken. If it weren't for that smart mouth of yours—" I broke off in a growl and stepped away, the distance between us like a cold shower. She swayed in the absence of my support, but I resisted the temptation to reach for her.

"What is so wrong with me knowing your name?" Confusion wrinkled the space between her brows, but it didn't detract from her beauty.

The differences between us couldn't have been greater. "It humanizes me. Never forget that I am a monster."

"A monster wouldn't be so affected by the souls he encounters. A monster would not have bargained with a crazy woman hailing him from a crossroads. I think you want to be the monster because then you don't have to try to be a better person."

"Better than waiting for someone else to solve my problems. The shadows can assist you with anything else you require."

Before she had a chance to turn, I called my shadows to me and vanished into their cold embrace.