Chapter 21 - Reap and Sow

She made it halfway down the Embel before Kit found her again.

Eda was bone-tired and frozen when he landed in a flurry of black smoke. Well past sundown, the country road was dark and sparsely traveled. Spectral fog clung to the grass, eddying about her aching feet. Cloud-veiled moonlight was her only guide.

Her chest burned. Her mouth was dry as sand. But the sight of Kit’s luminous eyes in the dark struck Eda like a spark of lightning, rousing her to life. “Lawrie,” she gasped by way of greeting, “is he—”

“Robin is tending him.”

“He’s all right? He lost so much blood.”

“I don’t know. He was bitten by a fiend. That’s no common wound.”

His flat tone unnerved her. He stood motionless, a black wraith in the dark. The scant yards between them felt like a mile.

“But…they’re out. We did it. We got them out.”

“We did.”

They stared at one another. Our Pact is nearly done. She didn’t say it aloud; to do so would make it real. Retrieving her brothers had been the first part of the agreement. Once they had the mirror, their business would be concluded in full. Nothing would bind them any longer. Perhaps if Eda didn’t acknowledge it, Kit wouldn’t either. She did not want him to.

He said, “I came back as soon as I could. I thought—I thought they might have captured you.”

“This mantle is a treasure. I hid behind a butcher’s shop, and they walked right past me. I’m sure they’d have spotted me without it, but…” She paused. Inhaled sharply. “Your arm.”

His shirtsleeve was gone. He’d ripped it off and tied it about his forearm, heavy with blood. Eda had thought the moonlight responsible for Kit’s wan complexion.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not healing!” All his other injuries had faded inside a day or less.

“Silver sword.”

“You look like you’re about to faint.”

“I’ve never fainted in my life. Don’t intend to start now.”

“Kit, this is serious. You should’ve gotten Robin to look at it straightaway—”

“I had to come back for you,” he snapped.

Eda’s mouth closed. The Pact, she reminded herself. He’s talking about the Pact. Yet to look at Kit’s fierce expression now, she could not be sure. “We can walk back to Robin if your arm pains you. It can’t be much farther.” She gestured at her dusty boots. “My feet won’t fall off just yet.”

“You will ride.”

“You’re injured. And your horse form tires you most, doesn’t it?”

“Both our hurts will be soothed the quicker we return.” His expression flickered. “Carrying you is no hardship.”

He extended his hand.

Something warm swelled in Eda then. Here on this moonlit road, the dawn felt very far away. The shadows were her lot in life, and she’d always dreamed of outrunning them. Why now, with him, did she wish the night could spin on and on? The light of day illuminated all the truths of what she’d done. The enemies that lay in wait.

Don’t take me back to the Oriana, part of her would beg of him. Take me to some foreign shore. So far away that even Mr. Night’s power can’t reach. The place where Viola and Crispin stood together beneath summer stars.

But her brothers were waiting, and so they rode.

Kit’s pace faltered—a pained, slow gait—but his long legs covered better ground than human ones. Eda wrapped her fingers in his silky mane and lay against his neck. Unbearable fondness tightened her throat. What a fascinating, terrible, wonderful creature he was. Would he remember her when she was bones and dust? Would he spare a thought for the mortal woman he’d once danced with and carried through the night?

The Oriana was not as they left it. Still docked on the fringes of the riverfolk’s fleet, little else was familiar. A plant pot had been kicked over on the deck. Inside, the cabin was in disarray. Lawrie lay groaning across the bench where Eda usually slept. Robin was perched by his hip, wrapping his bare leg.

Ben sat opposite with his head in his hands. He jumped up the moment Eda came in.

“Eda.” He engulfed her in his arms. Strong. Familiar. She allowed herself a moment to breathe him in. He smelled different than Lawrie—something animal and warm. Hay, maybe. He’d worked so long in the stables that it had seeped into his very skin. “I wanted to go back for you, but the demon swore he’d find you quicker.”

“You were right to stay. You’re safe here.” She glanced at Lawrie. “Will he be all right?”

Robin’s mouth pursed. “The bite is deep. I’ve cleaned and treated the wound as best I can, but I’m no healer. Even if I were…”

Lawrie drew a pained breath. His eyes were red, his face pale. A bottle of amber drink and a bloody pile of rags littered the dining table. Eda spotted a long red-tipped threading needle. Her stomach rolled.

“Lawrie?” She knelt and clutched his hand.

“She’s trying to say that I might lose the leg,” he rasped. His bloodshot eyes slid toward Robin. “Or worse. Right?”

“Neither is certain. You may yet make a full recovery.”

The statement seemed to echo around the cabin, a hollow reassurance. Eda kissed Lawrie’s brow before allowing herself a few minutes to clean up in Robin’s washroom, desperate to wipe away the grime and sweat. She changed into the clean shirt Kit had bought for her and went back upstairs. Robin met her eyes and nodded toward the cabin door. Ben and Eda followed her outside.

Kit sat atop the gunwale, human but for his eyes. He was tying off a proper bandage around his arm at last. Ben’s glare could have expanded metal at close range, but the demon was unfazed. He merely watched as Robin told them, “The lad has lost a lot of blood. I’ve packed the wound with strong ointments and stitched it well, so he needn’t be left with lasting injury unless infection sets in.”

Eda worried her lip. “You think it will?”

“I know little in the ways of healing magicks. I fear it would take far more than my paltry efforts to ward off the effects of a fiend bite. They are foul creatures by any standards, but a mortal has no natural defense against their bile.”

Ben rubbed his face. “What about leeches? The physician on our street uses them to draw bad humors from the blood.”

“No use at all, though I imagine my opinion would be discredited by the so-called medical societies of Wesland.”

“Then, what? We just wait and see if he gets worse?”

“At present, that is all we might do.”

Grave silence descended. Fires crackled in the distance, voices calling from boat to boat. Water rocked gently against the Oriana’s hull.

Even in the midst of danger, Eda had felt light as air to see her brothers again. To know she’d actually liberated them. But now that same crushing dread bore upon her as it had when the fiend sank its teeth into Lawrie. Was it to be this way always? Every hard-won victory brushed aside by a newer, worse obstacle? She could stomach her own demise to know her brothers would be well. But if Lawrie…if he…

“It’s my fault.” She stared across the river, unseeing. “I should have tried to expose the bishop from the start, proven our innocence. Set you free the proper way. But I was so afraid of it not working, of taking too long. I just—I wanted to save you from the noose, and now Lawrie is…”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Kit’s voice took her by surprise. She jerked around to find him watching her, face like thunder. “You have sacrificed too much for others already. Do not add this guilt atop all the rest.”

Ben stiffened. “You talk of her sacrifices? What did she give you for your aid? How many years?”

“Ben.”

“Tell me. Right now.” He rounded on her. “You made a Pact with him. Don’t deny it. Why else would a demon help you?”

Eda wilted beneath the heat of his disappointment, as she always did. But she’d come so close to losing him forever. She would not apologize for making the Pact with Kit. Saving her family was worth it. “I did what I had to. And I’d do it again.”

Ben exhaled through his nose. “How many years, Eda?”

Her throat closed. Hot shame and fear stung her eyes.

Kit said it for her. “Fifty.”

Ben’s jaw fell in shock. He looked between them, hazel eyes wet as her own. “Fifty? Fuck. Fuck, Eda—”

“I needed help,” she whispered. “I didn’t know how else to save you. I don’t regret it.”

“You damn well should!” His cheeks flushed red with anger, but she saw the desperation feeding it. He was panicking. He was heartbroken. It didn’t make his rage any easier to bear. “You think either of us wanted you to pay for our lives with yours? All you’ve done is place the noose around your own neck, you stupid girl!”

“Wouldn’t you have done the same for me?”

“That isn’t the point!”

“Of course it is! It’s stupid and senseless and terrible, but it’s love. I love you, Ben. I love Lawrie. How could I live with myself, knowing I might have saved you but never tried?”

“And how do you think Lawrie and I will survive it once you’re gone? Did you think of that? You’re my little sister. You’re not supposed to die before me. I’m not meant to stand over your saints-damned grave—” His voice broke. Furious, he turned to Kit. “Give her years back.”

“Even if I wanted to, I cannot.”

“Figure it out. Right now.”

“Ben—”

“I cannot,” Kit repeated. He unfurled. “If there is a way to give back what was freely given, I do not know it.”

“Oh? I do.” Ben grabbed the discarded sword propped against the cabin.

“Ben!”

He shoved her back. Pointed the sword at Kit in challenge. “She’ll get her years back if I cut your filthy head off.”

“No. Eda must be the one to do it.” With a ripple like a mirage in the desert, Kit’s true face emerged—ashen skin, broken horn, swaying tail. His injured arm did nothing to diminish his domineering presence. “But by all means, try your best.”

Ben lunged with a roar.

“Stop it!”

Kit dodged. Ben followed, his face wild with hatred.

Robin ducked behind the cabin door. “Take this pissing contest off my boat! Now!”

Ben swung, too blinded by anger to be skillful but hard enough to force a retreat. The demon was merely playing with him. Weak and injured though he was, if Kit actually wanted to hurt Ben, he need only decide on it.

Her point was proven when Ben brought the sword up in a two-handed swing, leaving himself exposed. Kit neatly sidestepped the blow. He snatched Ben by the throat. With his other hand he grabbed Ben’s sword arm and twisted, hard enough to make him cry out. The weapon clattered to the ground.

“You squander your sister’s efforts by tempting fate, boy,” Kit snarled. His claws picked Ben’s neck, blood beading like rubies. “I could gut you like swine for your disrespect.”

Eda grabbed Kit’s arm and tugged furiously, for all the good it did. He was immovable as stone. “Get off him. Kit! Let him go right now.”

He did not look at her. After a tense moment, his grip loosened.

Ben fell back. He rubbed his bloodied neck with a black glare.

Eda stood between them. “Don’t you dare,” she warned the demon.

“He could do with some sense beaten into him.”

“Then you’ll have to beat me first.”

Kit’s eyes flashed. With a swirl of black vapor, he transformed into a bird. He deliberately swooped around Ben’s head, clipping his ear before streaking toward the forest.

Eda sighed. “Go back inside, Ben. I’ll be in shortly.”

“Bastard…Is he gone? For good?”

“No. I’m sure he’s nearby.”

“I won’t leave you alone while he’s still lurking about.”

“Kit won’t hurt me.”

“Because of the Pact?”

“Partly. But I think he likes me well enough to refrain from gutting me, regardless.”

The joke fell flat. Ben might have argued further, but Robin touched his arm. “Come in, lad. Your brother asks after you. I’ll brew more tea.”

He seemed conflicted, but finally allowed himself to be pulled inside. The minute the door closed behind them, Eda hopped off the Oriana and made for the trees, towering and dark beyond the firelight.

I’m not done with you yet, Lord Arsehole.