Winter Queen (12 page)

She jerked out of his grasp and glared at him. “The Balance protect you, Rone of the Argons, if you don’t let me pass!”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t you look at me that way—like I’m Darrien, because I’m
not. I’d never hurt a woman, and you know it!”

She couldn’t help but notice how thin Rone had become—partially from sharing his food with her. He was right. She always lashed out at him when she was angry. “No, you’d never hurt me, but you’re still treating me like I can’t make a rational decision. I can help Metha. I know you think of me like a little sister, but I’m not little, Rone. I’m a woman now.”

He snorted. “Oh, don’t I know it.”

She stomped her foot.
“Rone!”

He studied her for a moment, his pale brows gathered, before he stepped out of her way. “Fine, but I’m going with you. Everyone knows your rational thoughts blow away at the first sign of an injury.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Walking as quickly as she could, she crossed the distance from the women’s house to the clan house. She pushed open the kitchen door. Undon’s daughters gaped at her.

“Where is she?” Ilyenna demanded.

The oldest, Bennis, couldn’t have been more than fourteen, but she squared herself like a clan mistress anyway. “She’s with her son.”

“Where?”

Hanie, a girl of ten or so, nodded toward the ladders. “In our room.”

Bennis shot her a murderous glare. Hanie ducked her head and mumbled, “Maybe she can help them.”

“Narium showed you how to make qatcha?” Ilyenna asked.

Bennis’s chin jutted out. “Yes.”

“Good. Make some more with some knitbone, bethroat, and cocklebur, if you’ve got it, and bring it up” Ilyenna started past them.

Bennis planted herself firmly in front of Rone. “He doesn’t come into the clan house.”

Ilyenna looked back when Rone said, “I’m not letting her be alone in this house with him.”

Bennis dropped her head and swallowed. “He’s not here.”

“Wait for me outside?” Ilyenna said to Rone.

He pressed his lips together in disapproval, but she was gone before he could argue. She climbed the ladders and entered the room shared by Undon’s two daughters. Metha lay on the bed, her skin the color of ash. In her arms, she held a shriveled, nearly translucent baby who was even grayer than his mother. Ilyenna had delivered enough children to know this one was far too early, but the fact that he was alive meant he was a fighter.

Ilyenna sat on the side of the bed and placed her hand on Metha’s forehead. She was cold. Her breathing quick and shallow. Neither were good signs. Trying not to disturb her, Ilyenna lifted the blanket. At least the bleeding had stopped.

She touched the baby. He was breathing, though not nearly often enough. She tapped his forehead with her fingertips. No reaction. She pinched his arm. He didn’t even clench his eyelids. She sighed. He wouldn’t make it another hour. But his mother had a chance if she didn’t start bleeding again or develop a fever.

Ilyenna pressed her hand against the flower, still tucked beneath her overdress. If she used it on this child, that would only leave one petal. She had no doubts Darrien would kill more of her clan before winter, perhaps even in the next month. She and Rone were at the top of that list. Leto had given Ilyenna the flower to keep her alive until winter returned.

Ilyenna glanced at the baby. He was Darrien’s son, yet as innocent and deserving of life as any other child. Gently, she shifted Metha’s arms and lifted him.
Such a small thing. Barely any weight at all in her hands. She felt a stirring in her breast, an instinctive protectiveness. “Yes, little one,” she breathed, “I will save you.”

Reaching inside her overdress, she plucked a petal. Then she
lay the child across her lap, opened his tiny mouth, and slipped the petal inside. For a moment, nothing happened. Then he gasped, his arms flailing to the side. Warmth surged from his tiny body into her hands. His face pinked up. With a contented sigh, he settled into normal breathing.

“Don’t touch my son.”

Startled, Ilyenna looked at Metha. The woman reached for her child, and Ilyenna laid him back in his mother’s arms. “Lie still. You don’t want to start the bleeding again.”

“What did you do to him?” Metha rasped, hatred glowing in her eyes.

“You blame me for what Darrien did? I was trying to save your life.”

Metha’s cheeks went red and she looked away. “Before you came, he loved me. You stole him away from me.”

Ilyenna laid a hand over her ribs, ghosts of pain echoing in her bones. “Let him go, Metha. It wasn’t real—it never was. Hold on to your son. That love is real.”

“As if you know what real love
is!” Panting, Metha lay back in the bed. “Get out!”

The door pushed open. Bennis came in, a steaming cup in her hand. One look at Metha and she glared at Ilyenna. “What did you do?”

Metha groaned. Bennis lifted the blanket and threw it back. Bright blood stained the rags. The young girl stared at it, her face turning white. “Metha, you have to stop moving,” she said. “You have to calm down.”

Metha shifted in her bed. “You get out too. You know whose baby Harraw is. You know he should be the next clan chief, but still you deny it!”

Ilyenna pushed Bennis to the side. “You’re right, Metha. They know who your son is. But if you want to live to raise him, you have to keep still.”

Metha lay back, clearly exhausted. “It doesn’t matter. I’m dying.”

Ilyenna glanced at the crimson sheets and thought of the last petal she had left. A petal she could use to save someone she loved. To save herself. But that would mean she would have to watch Metha die, knowing she could’ve stopped it.

She bent over the woman. Metha’s eyes had grown heavy. Not much longer and she’d slip into unconsciousness. “Yes, Metha,” she whispered. “You’re dying. But I can help you.” She held out the flower with its last remaining petal.
“If you trust me.”

Metha glanced from the flower to Ilyenna. “Why would you help me?”

Ilyenna felt a pang course through her. She thought of what Darrien had said days before. Was she a healer or a killer? “I am a healer,” she said steadily. “It’s what I am.”

Metha hesitated before nodding. Ilyenna plucked the last petal and slipped it onto her tongue. As quickly as it had worked on Harraw, Ilyenna saw the changes begin in Metha. She clutched the stripped flower head to her chest and left the room.

12. Dark of Night

Waiting for morning, Ilyenna sat in Darrien’s attic. In her palm lay the flower head. Her fingertips circled it over and over again. Exhausted as she was, she hadn’t been able to sleep. Darrien was going to kill her or one of the others, and now she couldn’t save any of them.

She glanced up at the sound of horses. Peeking through the chink in the mortar, she saw three riders come to a stop outside the clan house. Two dismounted, leaving the third to hold the reins of their horses. Ilyenna wondered who would ride here this early. She put the flower away and pressed her face against the wall. They were strange men, wearing long, hooded cloaks instead of coats.

One of them rapped at the kitchen door and waited before rapping again. Finally, the door opened, spilling lantern light across the stranger’s face. He and one of his companions came inside. Ilyenna heard voices, and soon footsteps sounded beneath her. Darrien was up. Why were the Tyrans meeting with strangers in the middle of the night?

Something was wrong—evilly, wickedly wrong—and she had to know what. Quietly as she could, she lifted the trapdoor. Darrien’s room was empty. Lying on her stomach, she strained to reach the ladder, but it was too far. She groaned in frustration. Below her were Darrien’s hunting trophies—antlers, skulls, and skins—stretched across his walls. What if she could use them like vertical stepping stones?

Swinging her feet over the edge, she lowered herself from the attic. Her feet dangled above a bear skull. She pointed her toes, her feet barely grazed the bear’s forehead. Would it support her weight?

Holding her breath, she let herself drop. The skull held to the wall, but something clattered out of its mouth. Ilyenna dropped to the floor. She found a large, heavy piece of onyx, which she now remembered seeing before in the bear’s mouth. She quickly shoved it under a sheepskin rug and rushed to the door. Glancing up and down the hall, she hurried down the ladders. At the bottom, she paused, her pulse racing as she stared at the light glowing from beneath the kitchen door. If anyone came into the great hall, she’d have nowhere to hide.

Her whole body tensed to flee, she tiptoed to the kitchen door and pressed her ear to the wood. She heard whispered voices, mumbles, but no matter how hard she strained to make out words, she couldn’t.

Ilyenna dared not linger. She raced back up the ladders. In Darrien’s room, she gripped the back of the skull and climbed up. Stretching, her fingertips found the wooden lip around the trapdoor. She heaved with all her strength, scrambling with her bare feet, but she slipped down. Footsteps echoed down the hall. He was coming! She tried again. Her foot brushed against a knot of wood. Digging her toes into it, she heaved herself up.

She eased the trapdoor down just as Darrien came into the room. Completely drained, she collapsed on the floor. She pressed her palms into her forehead as thoughts of the foreigners meeting secretly in the clan house reverberated inside her head.

Hours later, Ilyenna startled when she heard the ladder scrape along the floor of Darrien’s room. “Get up and get down here!” he hollered.

She crawled to the door and lifted it. Darrien stared up at her, his face an unreadable mask. Her gut twisting into knots, she stepped down the rungs. Once her feet were on the floor, she forced herself to meet his gaze.

He was so close that she instinctively took a step back. Still, he said nothing. She started walking away, but his voice halted her.

“You healed Metha, her baby, and yourself. How?”

She turned to face him.
“Fairies.”

He thumbed his nose. “Unfortunately, I am no longer allowed to lay a hand on either you or Metha.” He circled Ilyenna, close enough that his shoulder brushed across her chest. “Not unless you ask for it, that is.”

Her hands ached to slap him, so she clenched them to keep herself in check. Not trusting herself to speak, she clenched her jaw as well.

Drawing even with her, Darrien whispered, his lips brushing against her hair. “You’ll ask.”

Ilyenna rushed from the room. She had to find Rone, to tell him about Darrien and Undon meeting with strangers in the dead of night. Downstairs, she stopped short at the sight of Metha sitting at the kitchen table, Harraw nuzzling at her breast.

It was the first time she’d seen the other woman since she’d given her one of the elice blossoms. Already, some of her swelling had gone down, revealing her jaw line and the joints of her fingers. Metha met her questioning gaze with an unreadable expression. “Come here.”

Ilyenna hesitated before moving to obey. Metha gazed down at her son. “What did you do to him, to us?”

“I healed you. Isn’t that enough?”

Metha shook her head. “Yesterday, I was dying. My son was dying. Today, I am stronger than I’ve been in months.”

Ilyenna started past them, toward the serving spoon and the pot of porridge. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Metha’s hand shot out and grabbed Ilyenna’s arm. She used it as leverage to pull herself to her feet. She gestured to a bowl of porridge circled with thick, rich cream. “First, eat your breakfast. Then you can get to the dishes.”

Without another word, Metha left the kitchen to serve the men.

Dumbfounded, Ilyenna stared at the porridge. She glanced around to make sure no one would backhand her before she slipped in the chair. Without bothering to stir the porridge, she ate every single bite as quickly as she could. Metha came back and put the pot in the basket. Apparently the girls had already eaten.

Her belly warm and full for the first time in days, Ilyenna took the basket of dishes and headed toward the house Rone was building. But as soon as she stepped out, Narium joined her. Shooting a wary glance back at the clan house, Ilyenna took Narium’s arm and steered her toward the forest.

“Last night, three foreigners came to the clan house. Two entered and met with Undon and Darrien. I sneaked downstairs, but I couldn’t make out what was said.”

The older woman rubbed her forehead between chapped fingers. “I’ll tell Rone.”

Ilyenna’s heart dropped. “Shouldn’t you be in the fields?”

“Shouldn’t you have finished the dishes by now?” Narium asked testily.

Ilyenna drew a deep breath. “I didn’t realize you were waiting for me.”

“I wasn’t waiting,” Narium growled.

“Narium, stop circling the sheep and put them in the pen.”

The woman sighed. “I’ll have one of the girls bring you the dishes, the washing, and your noon meal. Stay at the river.” She turned on her heel and headed back.

Ilyenna plunked down the basket of dishes. “Narium, wait!”

She turned. “If you trust me at all, Ilyenna, you’ll do this.”

Ilyenna shook her head. “Not until you tell me why.”

“Do as I say!” Narium took off at a swift walk.

Bewildered, Ilyenna watched her go. Whatever was going on, the other clan mistress didn’t want her to know about it until it was over. By then, Ilyenna would be too late to interfere. She glanced at the dishes and then toward the clan house. Slowly, she shook her head. “You aren’t the only clan mistress, Narium.”

After stashing the dishes inside the forest, Ilyenna eased through the woods. Hidden behind the trees, she searched the village. Nothing seemed out of place. Cautiously, she stepped out and ran to the barn.

It was then she heard it. The rhythmic slap, slap, slap of the strap. Someone was being beaten. Cautiously, she peered out. She recognized Darrien immediately. But who was he beating? Long, blond hair. A Shyle dress. Ilyenna stepped closer.

Larina.

The strap connected again. Ilyenna shut her eyes and winced with each blow. Why was Darrien beating her? And why didn’t Narium want her to see this? Did she think Ilyenna would try to stop it? She wasn’t a fool. Interfering would only make it worse.

Knowing there was nothing she could
do, Ilyenna hurried back to the river and washed the dishes as fast as she could. She was so distracted she didn’t notice the apple blossom until it was hovering over the water directly in front of her. She smiled. “Thank you for bringing Leto.”

Jablana tipped her head to the side. “You asked for my help.” The fairy’s tiny wings beat faster, and she zipped back to the apple tree. But just before she flew out of sight, she paused and held her hands over the apple blossom. The petals fell off. The area behind the pollen-coated tips grew fat and green then red.

Jablana pulled her hands away. Her wings beat tiredly, but she was smiling. “They don’t taste as sweet without a touch of frost.”

Ilyenna felt her mouth hanging open and closed it. “Apples are my favorite.”

The fairy’s wings perked up and Ilyenna could see the wide smile over her pale pink skin. “Apples like winter’s kiss. Perhaps this is why I am drawn to you.” Her wings darkened with what Ilyenna could only guess was a blush. Jablana darted away.

Ilyenna reached up and plucked the apple from the tree. It was warm beneath her hands. She bit into it. Jablana may have been right about it not being as sweet, but after a winter of withered fruits and vegetables and days of half-rotten, infested food, it was the best apple she’d ever eaten.

Long before midday, Jossa arrived with a basket of washing and Ilyenna’s noon meal. “Metha’s actually feeding you now?”

Unwrapping
her food, Ilyenna found a handful of fresh peas, a chunk of ham, and a piece of fresh bread. She palmed the whole lot of peas into her mouth. “I’ll be sure to stay on Metha’s good side from now on.”

Jossa had already scooped up the clean breakfast dishes and headed back to the clan house.

“Jossa?” Ilyenna called after her. The girl paused but didn’t turn. “I know something’s going on. What is it?”

Jossa hung her head.
“Nothing, mistress.”

Carefully setting down her food, Ilyenna stood. “Jossa, I am your clan mistress, not Narium. Now tell me what’s going on.”

Jossa slowly turned, tears forming in her eyes. “Nothing’s going on, mistress.”

Ilyenna blinked in surprise. Jossa was lying. This was much worse than Ilyenna had thought. She placed her hand on Jossa’s shoulders, and the girl gasped in pain.

Ilyenna turned her around and pulled her hair to the side. Angry red welts stretched up her neck into her hairline. She’d been beaten with a soaked strap. “Darrien did this? Why?”

Jossa’s started backing away. “Please, mistress. Please don’t. I promised I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Stay here and finish the washing,” Ilyenna ordered.

Without waiting for the girl’s reply, she ran all the way to the women’s house and yanked open the door. What she saw stopped her cold. All of the women, even Narium, lay on the floor, strips of rags soaked in witch hazel across their backs. “By the Balance . .
. ”

Wincing, Narium sat up. “What’re you doing here? You’ve work to do.”

Ilyenna stepped into the room. “I want to know what’s going on, and I want to know now! Why did Darrien beat all of you?”

No one answered. Ilyenna looked at each of her clanwomen in turn—Wenly, Kanni, Parsha, Bet, Larina—then at Narium and her clanwomen. None but Larina would meet her gaze. The young woman was glaring at her like she’d stolen all her spring lambs.

Cold fear shot through Ilyenna. “Larina, you want to tell me what this is about?”

Narium shot Larina a look that would’ve singed the bristles off a pig. “You say anything, and you’ll have me to deal with.”

Larina opened her mouth to argue.

“Think what you’re doing, Larina,” Narium said. “He won’t touch us again till we’re healed. And by then the Council will have freed us.”

Larina glared at Narium before turning away.

Looking between the two, Ilyenna felt a sob on the edge of her throat. They’d all turned against her. Her own clanwomen! After everything that had happened, she didn’t think she could bear that too. Tears burned her eyes.
“Fine. Don’t tell me,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’ll ask Darrien.” She stormed out.

“Get Rone,” she heard Narium shout.

Ilyenna was halfway to the clan house before Rone grabbed her arm. She whirled, pushing the tears off her cheeks. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Rone dropped her arm and stared at the ground. “They won’t tell me either, only that it’s best I not know. I believe them, and you should too.”

Ilyenna threw her hands in the air. “Isn’t that for me to decide?”

He shook his head. “Not this time. Leave it alone, Ilyenna. Just leave it alone.” He turned on his heel. She watched him head back to where the men were laying the foundation for a house.
A large house, much larger than even the clan house. This couldn’t be a tiam house.

She hurried into the kitchen. Metha was standing at the table, changing her son’s bottom. She looked up when Ilyenna stormed in. “Where’s my laundry?”

Ilyenna stopped short. “I left Jossa to do it.”

Metha frowned. “The girl was just beaten with a soaked strap, and you’re making her do your work?”

“I—”

Metha pointed at the door. “Get back to that river and do your job.
Now.”