Chapter 16

CORDELIA

One Thousand Years Ago

T he closer I get to finding my Eleanor, the further she feels from me, and the less hope I hold. I swear on the witch-gods that time rather misbehaves itself. Elongating and stretching into an ever more expansive test.

I find myself screaming into the air, at whoever will listen. I want to crawl out of my skin. I want to burn the heavens down for taking her from me.

One moment I am cantering across a field, and the next I am sobbing into Teddy's neck, pleading with him to keep her alive.

It is a form of torture I've never experienced, the not knowing. It is a sadistic thing, allowing my imagination to hope and pray one minute, concocting elaborate escapes for her from the cottage. The next, the burning roof and building flashes in my mind's eye, knowing there was no chance she got out.

But still. I cannot give up. I shan't. Not until I see her body or have her lips on mine again.

After what has seemed like three legions and a lifetime, I enter the village the man told me about. It's different from the heart of the city. Far greener and lush with fields, garden plots, shrubs and planters. There are cottages and bungalows everywhere I cast an eye, but each of them wears a shroud of green like a coat and scarf.

I slow Teddy down to a walk and hop down, deciding to walk him through the village as the houses are all so close together that the path between them is more like a city alley. Bungalow doors sit opposite each other, nestled safe under their porches which hang with leafy greens, colourful flowers and swollen fruit. Some of the doors are perched above a set of three steps, each one smothered in potted plants and urns. The path is twisty, I keep expecting it to widen out into a large open square like it would in the city, but it doesn't, it just keeps twisting and bending around more cottages. Occasionally, there's a split off and the cottages continue to fan out down one of these narrow tracks, but all huddled close together.

There are no road signs, no street labels to tell me where I am. My chest tightens, the well of tears rising to meet my lids. I wobble on my feet, leaning against Teddy, wishing he could tell me to keep going, wishing he could find me some food or anything to keep me journeying.

I desperately don't want to stop, but I have no idea where I am, no idea where Eleanor could be. I am at my wits end.

I slacken the reins and slump onto the step of the nearest cottage and put my head in my hands.

"Come on, Cordelia, you've come this far, you can't quit now. Eleanor wouldn't quit. She would go to the ends of the earth for you. Now you need to do the same."

The door behind me creaks open, and I startle, leaping out of the way of the hunched-over old lady.

"Sorry dear, didn't mean to disturb you," she says, smiling at me with a set of extremely white teeth that don't seem to match her wisened appearance.

"No, I apologise, it was most rude of me to sit here uninvited."

"You're perfectly okay, my love. Steps are for stepping on and sitting on, I don't see that you're doing any harm at all. I say, you look a little worse for wear."

Her watery blue eyes wash over my appearance. It's only now that I glance down and examine myself, I see that she's correct.

Oh dear. I stand up and examine my reflection in her window.

My dress is filthy, dirt smudges and stains cover my skirts. A burn hole mars the top layer, and several rips perforate the skirts. There's even one section where the fabric hangs on by a thread.

My arms and skin are just as vile. Black grime is caked under my fingernails and several are chipped, broken or ragged. My hair has more or less fully escaped from its bun, there's only one clip left holding strands on the left side. A layer of muck coats my face, which makes my skin appear darker than usual. The only evidence that I am pale complexioned are the shadowy streaks left behind by long-dried tears.

I look like I've been abducted and dropped into horse manure. I probably smell the same, given the amount of time I've spent with Teddy.

"Oh my, would you like to come and get cleaned up, dear? I can make you some food and a cup of tea with herbs, it will have you feeling proper in no time."

"That's kind of you, but no. I wonder whether I might trouble you for some information though?"

"Of course," she says, hesitating the slightest bit as she looks at me, as though she can't imagine why I would want to continue to look the way I do.

"How can I help?"

"I'm looking for a woman… well, maybe a body, I'm not really sure. But she would have been bought here a few days ago, burned, maybe. But definitely injured. She would have been taken to specialists, I guess. Do you have healers in this village? Perhaps some that know how to treat burn victims?"

"Oh yes, dear. We have plenty of healers here. This is the healer village, all here practice or are training. Each cottage houses a different specialist."

I instantly brighten. "Truly? Could you take me to the burns specialist please?"

She nods as a fluffy white cat appears between her legs. "Naughty Herbert, get back inside. You know you're not allowed out here." She shoos him inside and then hovers in the doorway, picking up a key and a bag that looks like it's for collecting plants.

"I'm off to the forest to collect supplies, but I'll point you in the direction." She grabs some cutters and then locks up.

She leads me down several winding paths, all of which look identical. All of them cobbled, with as many plants and twisting green vines coating the cottage fronts as every other street. The only difference between any of them are the brightly painted windows and ledges. Each house is adorned with a colour so bright it practically glows. It makes them look like toy houses in a child's playroom.

"May I ask, why each house has a different colour? In the city, we tend to have areas where everyone's buildings either match or blend in."

She nods, sage and knowing. Her back is so hunched I'm not sure how she can see which direction she's going in, but perhaps her feet have memory and guide her the same way they have for years.

"The colours represent the family's magic and specialism. There," she points as we reach a T-junction. Down the left, the houses abruptly stop about thirty metres in, and the forest begins. To the right, the houses wind in the same way they have done along all the other paths we've trodden.

"The orange house at the end. If you find yourself bending around the corner you've gone too far."

"Thank you so much," I say. "How can I ever repay you?"

She smiles, "I used to be in love the way you are now. My wife died a long time ago now, your smile and knowing I helped you find her is enough."

She gives me a toothy grin, and then she's shuffling left towards the forest. I call out after her to say thank you, but she waves me off and much as I feel impolite, I cannot wait any longer. It has taken all of my strength to make it this far, and I need to face the truth. I need to find out whether Eleanor is still alive.

By the time I have Teddy tied up to the stone wall outside the cottage, I already have more tears streaking my cheeks.

What if she is dead? What if I've come all this way and it's too late? My hand shakes as I raise my fist to the door knocker.

It's a strange little thing in the shape of a creature, a gargoyle, I guess. I rather like it; I wonder whether I could have one in the city. I go to pick up the ring hanging from its mouth when it opens its eyes and I shriek.

I stumble back off the step and nearly roll my ankle.

"What on earth?" I say as I pick myself up.

"Whath your problem? No coming in unleth you pay," the strange door monster says.

"What… what are you?" I say, brushing my dress down and scrambling back up the steps.

"I have no money to give," I shrug, trying to look apologetic. It's not quite the truth, but I need to save the coin I have for room and board.

"I donth wanth no money."

"Then what will you ask of me?"

"A fingle drop of blood." He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. There's a little spike on the end of it.

A drop of blood doesn't seem like much to offer if Eleanor is inside. Besides, I know that she uses blood in her magic anyway. This is probably their currency.

"Sure," I reach out and press my finger on his tongue. His hackles bristle, I swear a wash of colour flutters over his cheeks, and then when he's satisfied the door opens.

As I step inside, I gasp and glance back at the cottage opposite, which is of a similar size.

The inside of this cottage does not match the outside at all. It's an enormous sweeping corridor that stretches further than I can see. There are dozens of people milling about, most of them in uniform. There are people being wheeled around on stretchers and in chairs on wheels.

"May I help you, miss?" a man, behind what I assume is a reception desk, says.

"Umm. I'm looking for a woman who would have been brought here a couple of days ago. She was badly burned. Her name is Eleanor."

"Eleanor? Hmm." He scratches his beard; it's neatly trimmed and a little orange like the windows outside.

"I ain't got no Eleanor, but I got a Jane Doe."

"Jane Doe? Her name is Eleanor," I reiterate, urging him to check his records again.

"Aye, but Jane Doe means we don't know her name. Either dead on arrival with no identification or unconscious with no identification."

My stomach rolls hearing that. Bile claws at the back of my throat, my stomach threatening to expel itself. I swallow hard.

"May I check if it's her?"

"We don't normally let visitors in without proper identifications or being family members."

"Please?" I say, and I cannot prevent the desperation from spilling from my lips. I get on my knees, clasp my hands together. "Please sir, I will do anything. I possess coin. I can give it to you. Anything so long as I can check it's her?"

He presses his lips together, thinning them. "Just this once. Follow the corridor down there, third turn on the left. Second door. Any trouble, tell them I sent you."

I glance at his name badge, committing his name and the instructions to memory.

This is it. This is the moment I get to see her.

I run, not walk my way towards her door, leaping out of the way of uniformed staff and those assisting patients.

When I reach the room, there's a healer woman standing outside. She wears an orange apron and carries a basket of herbs and jars.

I stand there gawping at the basket. Two words scream through my head.

If she's carrying healing supplies in, then, then…

"She's alive," I whisper, mimicking the words pounding in my brain. I collapse to the floor.

"She's alive?" I say again and grab the legs of the healer. I sob into her legs. If she startles, then she doesn't show it. She politely pops the basket down on the table outside the room and disentangles herself from me.

"Beg your pardon, miss, but I need me legs back. Is everything okay?" she says, patting my hand.

"I do apologise… it's…," I wipe my face, my breathing hiccuping back to normal. "The woman in there, is she… she's alive, right?"

Her face lines, deep grooves carving into the curve of her eyes. As she pulls me up, I discern she's older than I thought. But the expression she's wearing does nothing to reassure my waning confidence.

"She's… she's alive, though? Your…" I scratch my head trying to remember the name. "Jane Doe?"

"I think it's best I show you."

She pushes open the door and my world crashes down.

There, under a sheet of white fabric, lies a motionless body. I rush to her side. Her brown locks are flat and lank, so unlike the shiny, tousled waves I love.

I scan down her body, rest my eyes on her chest.

And that is when the tears begin.

Her chest rises and falls. Slow and steady and deep. But it does move.

She's alive.

"Here, miss," the healer says and hands me a rag.

"Her name… it's Eleanor Randall."

"Thank you, now we can contact her family, I'll bet they're proper concerned that she's missing."

I'm so caught up in finally finding Eleanor that her words don't hit me until she's already by the door.

"Wait. Please."

The healer stops and grabs the basket she popped on the table outside. "Don't worry miss, I need to apply her herbs and pastes, I'm here for a bit."

She brings the basket back in and pulls two stools to the side of her bed. "Do you want to help me?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

"It's Trudy, miss."

"Well, Trudy, are you sure I won't hurt her?"

"No, miss. She's in a deep sleep, you see."

I swallow hard. "What kind of deep sleep? Will she wake up?"

The healer's eyes fall away from mine. "We're not sure. We managed to fix up her skin. It was mangled, she had several broken bones. But flesh and bone, that's easy to fix. It's the insides that take work. And she's been on her own. We didn't know who to contact to support her…"

"I'm here now. I'm her support. I'm not going anywhere until she's better."

I slide my hand into hers, gripping it both tight and gently, fearful of letting go, fearful of hurting her.

"We need to contact her family though, so if you got any information, I'd appreciate it…"

I glance away. Of course, I know her family. Every nobleman and woman in this region of the world knows the Randalls, but do I want to tell her that? Do I want them here?

No.

Gods forbid they found me with Eleanor and blamed me for what happened. I need her awake before I can give the healers that information. She has to come back to me first before her family take her from me all over again.

"I'll endeavour to remember," I say.

She purses her lips at me. "It's okay if you're lovers… I don't mind. But it's best and proper that we tell her family… Perhaps tomorrow, hmm?"

I say nothing else. My heart breaks into ever smaller pieces.

The healer hands me a green paste, "Here, pop this on her chest, in the middle, a little to the left. And another on the right, above her breast there, and the same on the other breast."

My cheeks instantly heat as she asks me to smother this stodgy green paste that smells a little like mint and a little like lavender all over her chest.

"What is it?"

"It's Sanatio, a healing plant from another city. Miracle worker if you ask me. It's what cleared her burns and mended her bones. It is working on the insides but…"

"But not her heart?" I whisper.

"Not yet, something tells me she was waiting for something else. A reason perhaps… to keep living."

Trudy gets up and totters to the door. "I'm guessing you'll be staying, miss?"

I nod.

"Right, I'll get clean linens brought for you and show you to the showers later."

"Thank you," I say.

Then she's gone, and I clasp Eleanor's hand tighter and lay my head on the edge of the bed, silent tears of gratitude flowing.

"Come back to me, Eleanor. Please? I found you, so you have to come back to me now."

And there, crouched on a stool, I fall soundly asleep for the first time in days.