She could still smell the blood on him. Oh, God, what if that meant she was getting the senses of the wolf? Had she escaped the knife only to fall to a worse fate?
She shivered and cried silently and clung to the mule as it shoved its way along the trail. She had never felt so cold before. And light-headed. Her fingers dug into the leather of the front of the saddle.
Eric’s voice penetrated her fog. “You did very well back there. No fainting, no hysterics.”
She had to gulp three or four times before she could make her voice work and still it shook. “It w-was by accid-d-dent.”
Again, that grim chuckle. “Either you’re lucky, or you have good instincts. For now, don’t faint on me” came the voice from ahead. “It’s not that far.”
“It isn’t?” Hope finally made her raise her eyes, and she realized she must have been in more of a fog than she had thought. They were out of the hills, and there was light off ahead through the trees. The mule seemed to realize this at the same time she did; she felt her startle a little beneath her legs, and her weary shuffle turned into a fast walk.
She blanked out a bit then, for the next thing she knew, invisible hands were helping her out of the saddle, and the mule was being led away. Eric’s arm around her shoulder steadied her for a moment as she wavered.
“You were fine back there,” he said in her ear, his arm feeling like nothing but that of a friend. “I was the one who was an idiot. I didn’t check to see if there were any of the bastards lurking in the trees. An amateur’s mistake. If you hadn’t kept your head, we’d have both been in trouble.” He gave her shoulders a squeeze, and chastely kissed her forehead between two of the lines of lashing. “Faugh. That ointment tastes like pine sap, and I stink of blood. We both need baths, food and sleep.”
Blood?
“You can smell the blood?” she asked.
He snorted. “Of course I can. I’m soaked in it. What, did you think you suddenly had a wolf’s nose?” He squeezed her shoulders again, then let go of her. “You lot. Get her to her rooms, get her in a hot bath and bring her a good meal. And a good stoop of brandy with it.”
With that, the Spirit Elementals took over, all but carrying her off to her rooms, where Sapphire stripped her out of her clothing and popped her into that hot bath before she could even say a word.
Bella just leaned back and soaked, feeling the heat penetrate all the way to the chill core she had thought she would never get warm. A touch on her arm made her jump, and she flailed for a moment, her eyes snapping open to see a tray of food being set down on the rim of the bathtub.
It was full of little bite-size things: bits of baked squash, chunks of sausage, pickles, slices of beef, cubes of cheese. For a moment, her stomach churned with nausea, but then the nausea turned to hunger and she reached out and took a bit of cheese. And then a pickle. Then some rare beef…and before long the tray was empty and Sapphire was pressing a small glass filled with an amber liquid into her hand.
She tasted it; it was like sweet fire. She’d had brandy before, but this was different. It went down as smooth as honey, and ended up like a comforting coal in the middle of her, thawing the last of the cold in her center. Warmth spread, and with it, a light and fuzzy feeling.
Sapphire helped her out of the tub; her legs felt a little wavery, as if the bones weren’t quite solid, and she realized that she was just a little drunk. The Spirit Elemental wrapped her in a soft robe, sat her down beside the fire and brushed out her hair, then loosely braided it again as she stared at the flames.
She wondered if she ought to be crying again. After all, two men had died today, and she had been partly responsible.
But she couldn’t make her mind wrap around that, and she felt at once too tired and too drained to care.
When Sapphire was done with her hair, she tugged at Bella’s arm, and Bella rose and let the servant lead her to the bed. She climbed in and lay down, closing her eyes; she felt the featherlight touch of something on her face, and dimly realized that Sapphire was putting some sort of ointment on her wounds, but at that point, the only thing that mattered was sleep, and she let it take her.
She was very glad that the mirror was one-way. Her father would have been horrified if he had seen her face. It looked as if someone had been whipping her, although Sapphire assured her that everything would heal without leaving a mark. She had only told him in this morning’s letter that she had been out on a long ride into the mining country with Eric’s escort, and that it had been interesting to see the hills she had only glimpsed from the city. She knew that since her father was widely traveled, he would have a lot to say on the subject, and that seemed safer than giving him an opening to ask too many questions.
She hadn’t gone down to breakfast. She had written a note for the servants to take to Sebastian, explaining what had happened. A note had come back from him, assuring her that Eric had already told him in detail about the ambush and her part in it, and that she should rest if she thought she needed to. But he added in his note that if she didn’t think she required rest, he would welcome her company in his workroom this afternoon for another lesson. She had expected the former, but not the latter, and she felt a rush of unanticipated affection for him. He wasn’t coddling her, or treating her like a fragile little child. He also wasn’t taking her for granted, assuming that she would simply turn up as expected for her lesson in magic, simply because he was Duke Sebastian and she should be grateful for his tutelage.
Not that she wasn’t grateful…she was. He was a very good teacher; she had to wonder, now, who had taught him, because in her experience, it took a good teacher to make a good teacher.
She watched her father mime his farewell kiss, as he did when it came time that he had to get back to work, and the image of his study faded from the mirror. She was about to get up and see about a better ointment for her stripes, when the mirror suddenly chimed.