Falling Ashes (16 page)

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Authors: Kate Bloomfield

BOOK: Falling Ashes
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The man lowered his head and secured his lips around my mouth. The moment we touched, a breath of cool, sweet air entered my lungs. He pulled away and watched me, before kissing me again, and once more, I was gifted with breath.

Dazed and groggy, I reached out to touch the face of my saviour. He was a blur. I trailed my fingers along his cheek, tracing his jaw until I came to his neck, where I felt bumps along his skin. He had gills.

The merman wrapped his strong arms around my body and kicked his legs, propelling us towards the surface. I clung to him, my lungs already pleading for more oxygen.

We broke the surface of the water, and I gasped for air. It stung my lungs as I breathed in huge gulps of it. I had no energy to move so I allowed myself to be dragged away.

Minutes later, I was deposited onto a pebbled shore, coughing and wheezing, the pain in my leg burning viciously.

I felt his hand slapping my back, and I coughed up copious amounts of seawater. The salt burned my lungs.

‘Yer all right,’ he said. ‘It’s fine.’ I could hear him talking, but his words made no sense in my delirious state.

I felt someone lifting my skirt above my knees, and I tried to swat them away.

‘It’s all right, Lass,’ the voice soothed.

‘Dah-’ I managed to choke.

‘It’s me. I’m here.’

‘You saved me,’ I breathed.

 

‘I saw yeh go down the cliff,’ he said. ‘Saw a bloke try ter stop yeh fallin’.’

‘It’s his fault. He did this. My leg,’ I groaned. My hands balled into fists around the pebbles.

‘He did this?’ Dagon said, inspecting the dagger that was still embedded in my thigh. ‘If I’d have known-’

‘Where … where has he gone?’ I asked. I felt cold and clammy; perspiration was forming on my brow. I couldn’t see Dagon, but I could feel his hands on me.

‘Christ, it’s buried deep,’ he said. ‘If I pull it out, yeh might bleed out.’ 

‘Get it out,’ I demanded, writhing against the rocks.

‘I can’t. Yeh might have severed an artery.’

‘Where’s Jack?’ I demanded, forgetting that I hadn’t seen him in days. ‘I need Jack.’

‘Well, it’s just me, I’m afraid,’ Dagon said. I felt him prod the wound with his thick finger, and I cried out in pain.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ I yelled, my voice breaking.

‘Sorry, sorry,’ Dagon muttered.

‘We gotta get yeh back to the lodge … someone will know what to do. We get injuries like this all the time on the boats.’

‘No,’ I said, panicked. ‘Finn knows I’m here. I have to leave.’

‘Yeh’ll do no such thing,’ said Dagon. ‘You ain’t fit to go anywhere. I’ll carry yeh to the lodge. It’s just a ways up the beach-’

‘No, Finn is here. He wants to take me to the Realm-’

‘I reckon I can protect yeh,’ Dagon said. ‘Now get ready, I’m going ter pick yeh up.’

Dagon put one arm under my legs and the other behind my back. He bent his knees and grunted loudly, hoisting me up from the ground. I cried in agony at the sudden movement.

‘Can yeh put weight on it?’ Dagon asked.

‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘But I’ll try.’

Dagon held me steady as I placed my damaged leg on the ground. As soon as my foot touched the pebbled shore, everything went black.

 

~

 

It was extremely hard to open my eyes; it felt as though they were glued shut. Prying them open, it took several minutes to adjust to the brightness. I found myself in a light blue room with bright white trim. A gentle breeze was wafting through the open window, and the sound of a calm sea reached my ears. Someone was dabbing my forehead with a wet cloth. I tried to lift my arm to push the cloth away, but my arms felt like lead so I groaned instead.

‘It’s all right,’ a gruff voice said. ‘Yer safe now.’

I squinted up at the man who was dabbing my forehead. It was Merl, the inn-keeper.

‘What are you doing?’ I mumbled.

‘Yeh had a fever,’ he said, returning the wet cloth to my forehead. ‘Yer burnin’ up.’

I pushed the damp towel away. ‘No, I don’t have a fever,’ I said. ‘I’m a Fire-Mage.’

Merl removed the cloth and looked down at it. ‘I wondered why it was smokin’.’

I sat up groggily, wincing in pain. ‘Ugh.’

‘Don’t get up,’ said Merl.

‘How did I get here?’ I asked. ‘How long have I been out?’

‘A couple of hours,’ Merl replied. ‘Dagon was awful worried about yeh.’

I rubbed the congealed sleep from my eyes and threw back the blanket that covered me. My thigh was heavily bandaged, a dark red splotch seeping through the fabric.

‘Is it bad?’ I asked.

‘I’ve seen worse,’ said Merl, throwing the wet cloth into a bowl of water on the bedside table. ‘But yeh won’t do any walkin’ fer a few days, let alone runnin’.’

I blanched. ‘But … but I can’t stay. That hunter knows I’m here-’

‘And how do yeh plan to travel?’ Merl asked.

I bit my tongue. Hawthorne would fly me, of course, but Merl wasn’t to know that.

‘I’ll buy a horse,’ I lied.

Merl rolled his eyes. ‘Just rest, all right?’

‘Fine,’ I lied again. ‘I’ll rest.’

‘Atta girl,’ said Merl, standing up and hobbling towards the door. ‘I’ll check on yeh in the morning’.’

‘Night, Merl, and thank you. Please tell Dagon I said thanks as well.’

‘Tell him yerself tomorrow mornin’.’

 

~

 

I waited until night had fallen and no footsteps could be heard in the halls of the lodge. Checking the clock on the mantelpiece, I saw that midnight had just ticked past. It was extremely difficult to stand. As soon as I did, more blood oozed through the bandage. It took all of my strength not to cry out in pain.

Hobbling to the window, I opened it silently and poked my head out. The cool sea breeze was very refreshing. I licked my lips and let out a long, high whistle, hoping it would carry on the wind. I wondered if Hawthorne was worried about me. I hadn’t seen him in since this morning.

I was immensely relieved to hear the familiar sound of trotting along grass. Within minutes, Hawthorne was looking up at me from the ground below.

‘Hey,’ I whispered down to him. Hawthorne’s ears pricked up, and his tail wagged.

I looked down at my injured leg and contemplated on how to make my escape. The thought of putting any weight on it was unbearable. Jumping out of this window was simply out of the question.

‘I need your help,’ I whispered. ‘I can’t walk.’

I hopped away from the window so Hawthorne could make an entrance. He jumped silently into the room as if he were a mouse.

Slinking forward, Hawthorne inspected my thigh, sniffing the sodden bandage. He looked at me with wide eyes.

‘I’m all right,’ I lied, putting on a brave face. ‘It’s not as bad as it looks. Merl said I’d be able to walk on it within a couple of days.’

Hawthorne let out a long, low groan of distress.

I put my finger to my lips. ‘Shh, it’s okay. Let’s get out of here, all right?’

I grabbed my rucksack, which was still damp, and dragged myself back to Hawthorne. Something shiny caught my eye. The dagger that had been embedded in my thigh was lying on the bedside table. Grabbing it, I stuffed it into my rucksack before collapsing on top of Hawthorne’s back.

Panting, I threw my injured leg over his back, biting down on my bag as pain shot through me.

‘Okay,’ I said, out of breath. ‘Let’s go.’

Hawthorne leapt out of the window, and at once I thought I was going to slip from his back. I couldn’t grip him with my knees, so I gripped his fur. The motion pained me, and I cried out as we ascended, the blackness threatening to swallow me once more.

 

~

 

I woke up what felt like several hours later, due to something reflective shining against my eyelids. At first, I couldn’t work out what it was; it was a few meters below, and speeding underneath us. A second later, I realized that it was water.

I sat up and stared around, fear gripping me as Hawthorne glided over a vast body of water. Craning my neck, I discovered that no land was within sight.

‘Hawthorne!’ I gasped, gripping him tightly. ‘Wh-where are we?’

He flew onwards, gliding peacefully over the ocean. I had to admit, there was a strange sense of serenity. I could hear nothing but the sound of the waves, and the slow beating of wings.  Nevertheless, chances of Jack finding me across the ocean were slim to none. Perhaps this is what Hawthorne had intended. However, I was injured and wanted to find a Healer as soon as possible.

‘How will I see Jack when we are across the sea?’ I said in nothing more than a whisper.

We were nowhere, and it was beautiful.

The never-ending, midnight blue sky stretched onwards, speckled with stars. The moon was full and high, reflecting on the water. It had been the moon's reflection that had woken me.

The cool sea breeze made me feel awake …
no
, alive.

I leant down and whispered in Hawthorne’s ear. ‘Where are we going?’

He answered with a low guttural purr that reverberated through his entire body, reassuring me of his certainty.

In the distance, I could see twinkling lights on the horizon. Land was only a few miles away, but time and distance were irrelevant when I was at peace.

I had managed to slip through the fingers of another potentially grave situation with the help of Hawthorne. Together, I felt as though we were invincible. Though the wound in my thigh was a reminder that I was useless without Jack.

The sound of the waves made it easy to relax and get lost in thought. I wondered where Jack was right now – probably sleeping in a lodge somewhere. In the morning he would probably finish the journey to Scyre (if that was where he was going). I couldn’t think of anywhere else he might try to find me.

Another thought occurred to me, something that I hadn’t considered. What if Jack wasn’t looking for me? I raised my hand to the locket around my neck, thankful that it was still there. I’d have never forgiven myself if it had been lost in the ocean.

Of course, I’d understand my parents being unable to travel long distance because they had Helena.  They would most likely settle down at an Inn. But what if Jack wasn’t trying to find me? Or worse, what if he’d been found and named an accomplice?

These new thoughts brought fresh waves of anxiety, but I tried to repress them.

Once Hawthorne and I had found somewhere to stay, I would send a message to Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood’s apothecary, in the hopes that Jack might be there. However, it would be dangerous to reveal my location through a letter. Regardless, Jack would not be able to cross an ocean to find me.

‘I’ll find you!’
Jack had shouted from the porch
. ‘I swear it!’

But how? How was Jack going to find me when I was unreachable? And if Jack
did
manage to find me, wasn’t that an indication that anyone could find me if they so desired?

No, the best option was to lie low until things cooled down. I would vanish. Perhaps if I went unseen for a long time, they would give up the search. Surely looking for me would be a large drain on the Realm’s resources.  Would Finn be able to track me across the ocean?

The twinkling lights were drawing closer, and I soon saw a beach ahead; its pebbled shore glinting under the moonlight. I had no idea where we were, or what country this was. All I knew was it was far from home, and that was probably a good thing.

Soon, the beach whizzed underneath us, followed by villages and forestry. Unsure of how long Hawthorne could fly, I became nervous. Surely he needed food, and sleep, as much as I did.

A farm passed below us, and I felt Hawthorne slowly decline. It was beautiful to see the different coloured paddocks, joined together like a patchwork quilt. We circled the fields once before descending. We landed on the edge of a forest.

It was too hard to dismount Hawthorne, and I couldn’t walk; I was in so much pain from my injury that I opted to stay on his back and let him carry me.

‘Where are we?’ I asked him, trying to peer through the trees.

We were on the edge of the farm; ahead, I could see multiple rows of crops, but it was too dark to make out what they were. In the distance was a house – all of its lights were out at this hour.  To the right of the crops, was an empty paddock, containing only a couple of work steeds. Why had Hawthorne brought me here?

He  began walking us through the trees.

‘Where are we going?’ I said. ‘Are we camping here for the night?’ I didn’t fancy lying on the ground all night. I was extremely vulnerable and exposed.

Hawthorne took me through the trees until the farm and its land was no longer in sight. This patch of forest was not dense, and a few minutes later, we emerged on the side of a hill. Looking to the top of the hill, I saw an old, broken down windmill. The mill was missing one of its propellers, and the brickwork looked as though it had been through a war.  Nevertheless, it was shelter.

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