Chapter 12

Lily sat at the window and stared out. A thaw had set in and the snow had begun to melt, pouring off the roof in a constant, drip, drip, drip, and sending little streams cascading down the street outside. Lily sighed, propped her chin on her hand and watched, feeling bored and restless.

Three days had passed since Kai Stewart and Conall Sinclair had arrived in Edinburgh. Three days since the incident with Bryn Fletcher and his gang. Four days since Oskar had kissed her.

And he'd barely spoken to her in all that time.

It was maddening. There was so much unfinished business hanging in the air between them. What he'd done to Bryn Fletcher. The burned-out townhouse. The discovery of Alfred Brewer in Edinburgh. That kiss...

She surged to her feet. Enough. She crossed to the pegs on the wall and took down her cloak. She needed to get out. If she sat in this house any longer, she'd go stark-raving mad!

She threw on her cloak and was approaching the front door when it suddenly rattled and swung open from the other side, letting in a draft of cold air. Oskar stepped inside, shaking water from his hair. He froze when he spotted Lily.

"What's going on?"

She crossed her arms. "I'm going for a walk."

He shook his head. "That isnae a good idea."

"Neither is me staying in this house! If I do, I might end up committing murder! Am I your prisoner?" She glowered at him and he said nothing. "No? Then get out of my way!"

Before he could stop her, Lily pushed past and slipped through the door. She was hit by a wave of cold air and after the stuffiness of the townhouse, it was invigorating.

She took a deep breath, then marched off—uphill this time, towards the crag at the top that housed the castle. She'd seen hardly anything of fifteenth century Edinburgh—except for the dank alleys when she'd bolted from Bryn's gang and that hardly counted.

Above, the sky was a bright, crisp blue and the wind that howled down the narrow street was cold enough to sting her cheeks. She heard heavy footsteps behind her and Oskar suddenly fell into step beside her.

"Lily, ye are being stubborn," he rumbled, his voice low. "Come back to the townhouse where I can keep ye safe."

In the sunlight his hair looked like beaten copper and his blue eyes shone. Why did he have to be so god-damned good-looking? And why did he have to look at her like that, in that way that made her stomach do a little flutter? She was angry with him, damn it!

"I'm not stubborn," Lily said, forcing a shrug. "I'm just tired of being cooped up. And I want to look around."

"But it's—"

"Not safe. Yeah, I know. You must have told me a million times already. Now unless you are going to throw me over your shoulder and carry me home like some cave man—which I wouldn't suggest if you want to keep your wedding tackle in one piece—I suggest you move!"

He blew out his cheeks. "Fine. But I'm coming with ye."

"Suit yourself."

They walked in silence for a while.

"Any news?" Lily asked.

Oskar had gone to the guild house this morning for a report, just as he'd done every morning since the Order had started sweeping the city for Alfred Brewer.

"Nothing. It's like he's a ghost."

She sighed and they went back to walking in silence. She found herself wanting to say something to close the distance that had grown between them and felt a little annoyed with herself about that. He was the one who had caused it so he should be the one to apologize!

They turned a corner into a street full of people. Market stalls lined it on both sides and the noise of brisk trade filled the air.

"I dinna like this," Oskar said under his breath. "Too many people."

Lily ignored him and carried on walking, her eyes darting to the goods displayed on the market stalls. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and followed.

Ah, it felt so good to be outside! Around her, the air was thick with the scent of roasting chestnuts and mulled wine, and the sounds of laughter and cheerful greetings filled her ears. The stalls sold everything from handmade ceramics to warm furs. Holly and ivy adorned the wooden buildings, and garlands of evergreens were strung from one end of the market to the other. A young girl juggled apples for coins thrown by passersby, while a troubadour strummed his lute and sang about the coming of Yule and the promise of new beginnings.

"Isn't it lovely?" she said to Oskar, smiling.

"Aye, I suppose. I'm just glad to see ye happy, lass."

She looked at him. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him, to run her fingers through his hair like she had that night he'd kissed her. But it was Oskar's eyes that really held her. They were intense, filled with a spark of...something. Something that made her feel alive, like she could jump off the edge of the cliff and know she'd fly. Her breath quickened.

"Lily," he said, his voice soft as he finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry. I've been a poor companion lately."

"You haven't been my companion at all, Oskar. You've barely spoken to me."

"Aye, that's true," he admitted, meeting her gaze. "I've been foolish. I've been...angry."

"At Bryn Fletcher? At Alfred Brewer? Or at me?"

Oskar shook his head. "At myself."

She wiped a hand across her face. "How about we just enjoy the day, eh? Come on, even you must like Christmas!"

"Christmas?"

"Yule," she corrected with a laugh. "It's only a few weeks away isn't it? Come on, let's walk around and pretend everything is okay. We'll figure out the rest later."

Oskar nodded, and they resumed their stroll through the bustling market. Lily tried her best to focus on the festive atmosphere, but every so often, her thoughts would drift back to their conversation.

I've been foolish. I've been angry.

She noted the way his broad shoulders moved under his thick cloak, the way his boots crunched in the snow as they walked. His eyes were never still, scanning the surroundings continually, alert for danger.

Who was he, really? The street-thug who had beaten up Bryn Fletcher and his gang? Or the man who had carried her through the snow when she couldn't walk, the man who had slept on the floor outside her room to keep her safe, the man who had risked his life to rescue her from Fletcher?

She shook her head. It was all so confusing.

Rounding a corner, they stumbled upon a lively group of musicians playing jovial tunes on bagpipes and drums. A group of people danced in circles around them, laughter echoing in the air.

Lily smiled. "Dance with me," she said suddenly, reaching for his hand.

"What?" he said, startled. "I canna—"

But she pulled him into the crowd of dancers before he could protest. She could see the muscles in his jaw clench and unclench but the shadows in his eyes softened as he gave in. His strong hand engulfed hers.

"All right, lass," he said gruffly. "If ye wish to dance then we'll dance, but dinna blame me if we both end up flat on our arses. Dancing isnae one of my many talents."

Lily laughed. "Landing on your arse is half the fun!"

"Oh? Then we should do just fine."

Oskar was hesitant at first, his movements stiff and uncomfortable, but as he glanced down at Lily's hand in his, he allowed himself to be drawn into the rhythm of the music. They were awkward and clumsy and Oskar hadn't been kidding when he said dancing wasn't one of his skills, but it wasn't meant to be serious. It was meant to be fun.

As they moved, Lily felt the tension between them begin to dissipate. She could see the corners of his mouth twitching with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. The cold breeze that had been nipping at her nose lost its bite, replaced by a cozy warmth that seeped through her from where Oskar's hand rested on her waist.

"See?" she said. "It's not so bad, is it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it is, lass," he replied. "I feel ridiculous. I hope none of my sword-brothers are watching. I reckon I would die of embarrassment."

Lily laughed, letting it blow through her like a spring gale, blowing away the last of the heaviness that had dogged her the past few days.

Eventually, the music came to an end and the dancers stepped back, breathless and laughing. Lily joined in as they clapped the musicians who all stepped forward to take a bow.

Lily's gaze moved beyond the musicians and she saw a man standing in the shadows. He wore a dark cloak that fluttered in the cold wind—and he had a crutch under one arm. Awareness prickled at the back of her mind and she suddenly recognized the man.

Alfred Brewer.

"Oskar!" she whispered, leaning close. "Behind the musicians. It's him! Look!"

Oskar's eyes flicked to where Lily indicated, and his expression went flat.

"Aye, Lily, I see him," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

He drew his sword with a soft scraping sound and began edging towards the man on silent feet.

Suddenly, as if sensing Oskar's approach, Alfred Brewer turned around. He froze, eyes widening. Then he spun and took off up the street, hobbling as fast as his crutch would allow.

With a snarled curse, Oskar ran after him, and after a moment of stunned hesitation, Lily ran after them both. As they sprinted uphill, the sun descended behind the buildings, casting long shadows that danced eerily over the ground. They dodged the carts, wagons, and merchants who were busy haggling and bartering, their voices booming like a chorus of eager crows.

Up ahead, Lily saw a large cart blocking the street, its cargo of barrels being unloaded by a group of burly men. Two large, sweating horses stood in the cart's traces, their manes tussled and their coats glistening in the light.

Alfred reached the cart and whirled to stare at Lily and Oskar gaining on him. Then, in a flash, he drew his knife and slashed through the traces that harnessed the horses.

"Yah!"

He slapped the horses hard on their rumps. Whinnying in fright, the horses bolted. They fled uphill, their hooves clattering, sending up sprays of mud and slush and causing the passersby to scatter in panic. With nothing to hold it, the cart began to slide backwards, the men struggling to keep it in place as it wobbled dangerously.

With shouted curses, they lost their grip and sprang back to keep from being crushed. Lily watched in horror as the cart began to roll with the force of gravity, picking up speed as it went, its wheels rattling against the uneven stones, the barrels bouncing dangerously as it raced down hill—straight at her. She was frozen, unable to move.

Then Oskar slammed into her, taking them both sprawling just as the wheels careened through the space they'd just occupied. He covered her body with his own, shielding her as the rumble and screech passed by, so loud and so close that Lily was sure they would both be crushed. She heard panicked cries from further down the hill, a loud crash, and then screaming.

Oskar scrambled up, yanking her to her feet. Heart thumping, Lily looked around. They had been lucky—but others had not. The runaway cart—given devastating momentum by the weight of the barrels it carried—had crashed through the crowd and through a series of stalls, sending barrels flying, ropes snapping, and creating a domino effect as the closely-packed stalls collapsed into each other. The street was littered with broken wood—and broken bodies—but now something else threatened.

Fire.

In the chaos, lanterns had been scattered across the ground and now the hay and broken wood that covered it took light with a whoosh.

Oskar hesitated for only a heartbeat before he sprang into action. "Ye and ye," he barked, pointing at two men who were staring wide-eyed at the carnage. "Help me douse these flames before the whole market goes up."

He called out to others nearby, shouting for them to start pulling people from beneath the wreckage. They grabbed blankets, buckets of water, and anything they could find to help extinguish the flames while others struggled to free those trapped.

"I'll help the injured!" Lily shouted.

She rushed through the chaos to find those who needed her help. There were many, some with broken limbs from being hit by the cart or the barrels as they came flying out the back, others with cuts and bruises from splintered wood and flying metal. She sorted through the injured, tending to those who needed medical attention and calming those who were in shock. She didn't have her bag with her so she did the best she could with what was to hand. She tied tourniquets, applied pressure, and tried to calm those who needed aid that was beyond her meager skills.

She could hear the fire roaring behind her as it grew and spread, could smell the stench of burned wood and hay, as Oskar and his helpers struggled to contain it. She pushed it from her mind, concentrating on her tasks. Her hands moved quickly to apply makeshift bandages and splints and she barely noticed the pain that gripped her shoulders and back. She barely noticed the sweat that dripped into her eyes, or the sting of tears as she worked.

She heard Oskar shouting for more buckets of water, heard the tramp of booted feet as more helpers arrived, but she barely looked up from her work.

It was happening again. The screech of tires. The blare of a siren. The beep beep beep of a ventilator. No! She would not lose anyone this time!

Time passed. She patched up a gash on a young girl's forehead, soothing her with gentle words and a reassuring smile. She helped drag a man out from beneath the wreckage of his stall, checked his pulse, then wrapped his torn scalp in a makeshift bandage.

She was kneeling down bandaging a young lad's torn knee when a hand settled on her shoulder. She looked up to see Oskar standing over her. His face and clothes were streaked with sweat and dirt, his eyes a startling blue against the soot.

"It's done, lass," he said in a voice hoarse from shouting commands. "The fire is out. Come away now."

"Not yet," she replied. "I have to help these people." I have to save them. I have to!

"It's all right, lass," he said softly. "Look."

Lily blinked and looked around. The flames that had threatened to devour the entire market were now nothing but smoldering embers, wisps of smoke rising into the night sky. Many of the stalls had burned through though, their hulks nothing more than blackened timbers.

Night?she thought dimly. How long have we been here?

The bailiff had arrived and his town guard had formed a perimeter to keep the curious onlookers at bay and to ensure that order was maintained amidst the chaos.

"Come on, lass," Oskar said. "There's naught more we can do here."

He held out his hand and she allowed him to pull her to her feet, but as she stood, a searing pain erupted down her back. She cried out and collapsed onto her hands and knees. The pain was relentless, a fiery serpent coiled around her spine that threatened to send her tumbling into unconsciousness.

Oskar gently lifted Lily into his arms, cradling her close against his chest. She winced at the sudden movement but nestled instinctively into his embrace.

With steady strides, Oskar made his way through the remnants of the market, past charred stalls and scattered debris. The night air was crisp against Lily's skin, a stark contrast to the heat and chaos they had just left behind. Finally, she spotted Oskar's townhouse looming in the distance, its windows glowing brightly in the darkness.

Once inside, Oskar carried her upstairs and laid her down on the bed. Kneeling by the fireplace, he poked the embers until they crackled into flame. She winced as she tried to find a comfortable position, the pain still gnawing at her like a persistent beast.

"Rest here while I fetch something for the pain."

He went out the door. She closed her eyes and let out a slow breath. All that chaos. All that destruction, just so that Alfred Brewer could get away? What kind of man would do such a thing? For the first time, she began to truly glimpse what Oskar was fighting against.

All those people, she thought. Injured because of you. Because you chased Alfred Brewer. You did it again!

Memories crowded in on her. The screech of tires. The blare of sirens.

Oskar returned with two pottery mugs and handed one to Lily. Whisky. She downed it in one and then held out her cup for a refill. She downed that too. Oskar said nothing. He sipped his own whisky and sat down in the chair by the fire.

He'd taken off his filthy shirt and began wiping the worst of the sweat and soot from his muscled arms, shoulders and chest with a damp cloth. He looked exhausted, his fiery hair clinging to his sweaty neck and his eyes dull with fatigue.

"Ye did well today," he said quietly. "Ye saved many."

Lily clenched her hands around her cup. "But I couldn't save them all."

He sighed heavily. "Nay, lass," he agreed. "Ye can never save them all." There was a weariness to his tone as though he spoke from experience.

They sat in silence for a while. Lily stared into space, the images of the day replaying in her mind like a cruel film. She couldn't shake the feeling of failure, of not being able to prevent all the pain that had unfolded before her eyes.

"What is it lass?" Oskar asked softly.

She looked at him. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Dinna do that," he snapped.

"Do what?"

"That. Push me away. Tell me everything is well when it clearly isnae. I thought we'd gotten past that."

"You're a fine one to talk!" she shot back. "All you've done for the past few days is push me away."

"That isnae fair."

"Isn't it? It seems pretty fair from where I'm standing!"

He opened his mouth for an angry retort but then snapped it shut. He looked away.

"Was...was it my fault?" she asked finally, giving voice to the dark thoughts that had plagued her all day.

Oskar blinked, startled. "Yer fault? What would make ye think that?"

"I was the one who spotted Alfred Brewer. If I hadn't, he wouldn't have run. We wouldn't have chased him. He wouldn't have unleashed that wagon. There wouldn't have been a fire. People wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"Lass," Oskar said, his voice a soothing anchor amidst the storm of guilt and grief that threatened to consume her. "Ye canna blame yerself for the actions of a madman. Alfred Brewer was responsible for his own choices, and no one else. Why would ye think otherwise?"

"But... so much hurt," she whispered.

"Aye, none of it yer fault."

"But...I could have done more. If I'd been quicker, if I had more medical knowledge, if I'd trained as a nurse or a doctor instead of an occupational therapist then maybe—"

"Lily, stop." Oskar's voice was firm and commanding. "Where is all this coming from? Why are ye saying all this?"

Lily looked away. The screech of tires. The blare of a siren. The beep beep beep of a ventilator. "Because it's happened before."

Oskar said nothing for a long moment. Then his hand brushed hers briefly. "What happened before, lass?" he asked softly.

Lily had never spoken of it. Not to anyone other than her medical team. She wasn't sure she could speak of it now, even though she wanted to.

"What happened to ye, Lily?" Oskar pressed softly. "Why do ye have that scar along yer back? Why do ye suffer so much pain? What do ye mean ‘because it happened before'? What did?"

Looking into Oskar's deep blue eyes, feeling the nearness of his solid, reassuring presence, she wanted to let it all come out. She was tired of holding it in.

"People getting hurt because of me," she said at last. "That's what's happened before."

Her words hung heavy in the air between them. Lily flinched, expecting the words of denouncement that would send Oskar turning away from her. How could he still want to know her after what she'd done?

He didn't say anything for a long, heavy moment. When he spoke he didn't say the words she'd expected to hear. "So that is why ye push yerself so hard?"

"What?"

"That's why ye are so determined to help others and willnae admit when ye are in pain yerself. Ye are punishing yerself and trying to make amends for a crime ye have already tried and convicted yerself for."

Lily studied him. No judgment lingered in his eyes, only understanding. She would have preferred hatred.

"You don't understand," she said, shaking her head. "It was my fault. All my fault. I was driving. I should have been paying more attention, driving more slowly, breaking earlier, taking a different route. Perhaps if I'd done any of those things I wouldn't have hit that other vehicle that day. Perhaps that couple in the other car and my parents in mine wouldn't have died. But they did."

The screech of tires. The blare of a siren. The beep beep beep of a ventilator.

Not your fault, the police had said. Not your fault, the doctor's had said. Not your fault, her therapist had told her time and time and time again.

But it made no difference.

It didn't change the fact that if she hadn't got behind the wheel that day, her parents and that young couple would still be alive. She was a killer, regardless of the fact that it had been an accident. She was a killer, regardless of what everyone told her. It was a cruel trick that the universe had played that she should be the one to survive when everyone else didn't. She would have preferred it to be the other way around.

Oskar's strong arms went around her and pulled her to him, holding her tightly.

"It's alright, lass," he whispered, his voice a comforting murmur against her hair. "It happened to ye as well, ye ken? It wasnae something ye did but something ye suffered. That ye suffer for still. This is what causes ye such pain isnae it?"

She nodded against his shoulder. "I woke three weeks later in hospital. I'd had metal rods put in my back and legs to fix my broken spine and femurs."

The words came calmly out of her mouth. She could speak easily about her own injuries but couldn't bear to contemplate what she'd done to others.

It wasnae something ye did but something ye suffered.

"I dinna know how ye do it," Oskar said softly.

"Do what?"

"Be the person ye are, after all ye've been through. I know that I couldnae. If it were me, I would be twisted with bitterness and anger and yet ye are not. Ye shame me, Lily. Ye are stronger than I could ever hope to be."

Strong? She wasn't strong. She was broken.

Lily searched Oskar's eyes for any sign of deceit or mockery, but all she found was sincerity and a depth of understanding that took her breath away. She had always seen herself as damaged beyond repair by her guilt and grief. But in Oskar's gaze, she saw something else reflected back at her—resilience and strength.

"I don't feel strong," she finally admitted, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I feel like a fraud, living a life that I'm not entitled to."

Oskar tightened his grip around her shoulders. "We aren't defined by our pasts, Lily. Surviving doesnae make ye a fraud, lass. It makes ye a fighter. Ye survived because ye are strong. God in Heaven, woman! Why can ye not see the woman I see? Why can ye not see the remarkable woman I've fallen in love with?"

Lily froze. Oskar's words swirled around her like a gust of wind threatening to knock her off balance. Had he really just said what she thought he had?

"I..." Lily struggled to find the words. "I never thought..."

Oskar gave a soft, mocking laugh. "Neither did I. But there we are."

He cupped her face gently in his hands, his touch feather-light against her skin. He leaned forward and kissed her, their lips meeting in a soft collision of warmth.

Thoughts of the past, of the future, were pushed aside. She slid closer, pressing herself against him, running her fingers across the smooth ridges of his bare back and shoulders. Her eyes closed as they kissed, and now all she could feel and hear and smell was him.

An image suddenly flashed through her mind. Oskar's face twisted with fury. His fist smashing into Bryn Fletcher's face. His hands raised, a dagger clasped in his fists...

She broke away, gasping.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I can't...I don't..."

He watched her for a moment, his eyes dark. Then a wry smile twisted his lips. "It's all right, Lily," he said softly. Sadness and longing shone in his eyes.

"But you don't understand—" Lily began but he put a finger against her lips to quiet her.

"Ye dinna need to explain. I'll leave ye to sleep." He climbed to his feet then walked out the door, pulling it shut behind him..

Lily watched him go, heart pounding with confusion and desire. She should go after him. Shouldn't she? Wasn't this what she'd been wanting ever since the night he'd kissed her?

But she didn't move as Oskar pulled the door shut, leaving her alone with her racing heart and swirling thoughts.