He collapsed to his knees, weeping. Petroc wrapped his arms around Tràth. “I’m here,” he said. Then lowering his voice, he whispered to someone else. “It’s all right. If he needs you, I’ll send word.”
Alyssa replied, “I’ll be standing by, night or day.”
“Thank you,” Petroc said. The great door closed, and the chamber went silent. “Can you stand?” he asked Tràth.
Tràth couldn’t answer. He cried like he hadn’t done since he was a child.
“Come on,” Petroc said. “I’ll carry you.” Despite his lithe frame, he lifted Tràth to his feet as though he weighed nothing. He bore the prince’s weight and helped him to his bed, then removed Tràth’s outer clothing.
“They blinded her, Petroc. They cut her throat and took her eyes.”
Petroc didn’t answer. He cradled Tràth as he wept. The attendant murmured soft words and rocked the prince gently in the swing bed.
Aaron had been surprised at how accommodating Imena turned out to be about the girl. After he took her to his suite and arranged for their departure, Cen brought a message from the princess. She thanked Aaron for his visit and indicated Zalia was eager for a positive relationship with the Druid Hall. When next they wanted to use the Zalian gates to the human realm, the druids could rely on her kingdom’s cooperation. She invited him to return, should he wish to continue his research in the archives.
While Aaron’s attendant Jalail occupied himself with packing, Aaron spoke to Cen. “Would you consider coming to the Druid Hall? If I make the request, I believe Princess Imena would agree. Most kingdoms have citizens who serve our Hall. You’d be more than a scribe. You could be a research assistant for me and, until I learn to communicate with her, a translator for the girl. I need time to learn the fae tongue and her, English. Perhaps you might teach me her hand signs as well.” He sighed. “This is the last thing I expected to happen.”
“I imagine so, my lord druid,” Cen said. He eyed the girl cautiously, trying not to stare but unable to draw his gaze away. She sat perfectly still, looking wary, but content as long as Aaron didn’t stray too far. “What you suggest would be a challenge, for certain.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t have a problem working with an azuri, would you?”
“As I told the princess, as a child, I knew a shadowling. They are unfortunate, but not dissimilar from any of us. The old ways were wrong. If our princess is taking the prince as her mate, then attitudes will change quickly. In truth, I believe many Zalians will be relieved. It’s no small thing to worry the child you tried for a century to conceive will receive these unexpected traits, be silenced, and shunned.”
The practice of silencing struck Aaron as both barbaric and curious. He wondered how recently the tradition had continued. Surely Imena had put a stop to it. Did this indicate some rift between Imena and the queen? Change was often most difficult for older generations, and fae generations were old indeed. “I’d like you to pen a response to Princess Imena, please.”
“Of course, my lord druid,” Cen said, and he took a stylus and paper from his satchel.
Aaron dictated a short letter, thanking Imena for her hospitality and assuring her that the Druid Hall would be pleased at her generosity and openness. He complimented her on the beauty of her country as well as its cultural richness, stating he did hope to return soon with one or more of the other druids to study the archives. They played around with the wording a bit, Cen making the occasional suggestion for the sake of protocol and the difference in meaning of certain phrases between the fae tongue and English.
“Now,” Aaron said. “If you wish to come to the Halls of Mist with me and act as scribe, translator, and researcher for the Druid Hall, add a polite request to that effect.” He watched Cen continue to write, pleased the faerie wished to join him. Zalia was one of the few kingdoms with no representatives in the Druid Hall. Besides, if they intended to work with Zalia, it would prove valuable to employ someone who had insight into its traditions.
Of course, if Tràth did marry Imena, that would give them access to the princess. Given how he reacted at the Shadow Gate, Aaron didn’t know if the prince would go through with it. Aaron had been shocked and saddened, but the prospect of bonding made him simultaneously hopeful and excited, despite the uncertainty of the situation. Tràth’s reaction to the lot of the shadowlings had clearly been personal. Aaron hoped his passion would motivate Tràth to help make changes in Zalia, changes the druids would never be able to induce alone.
Aaron read the letter Cen had drafted, took the stylus, and signed the page in his own hand. “Before you go, would you ask her name?”
Cen shook his head. “She won’t have one,” he said. “None of the shadowlings do. It’s—”
“Forbidden,” Aaron finished for him. “Ask her what she wants to be called.”
Cen translated the question into the fae tongue.
She tilted her head and furrowed her hairless brow. She pointed at Aaron, took his hand again, and kissed the back of it.
“She keeps doing that. What does the gesture mean?” Aaron asked Cen.
“She’s pledging loyalty and service,” he said.
“Tell her I don’t want her to be my servant. If she consents, someday we’ll share a bond.”
Cen translated, and she touched her chest, just over heart. A smile crept over her silent lips. Reaching toward Aaron, she touched his chest, then her own again.
“Yes,” he said. “I feel it too.” He kissed her hand, ignoring the grime on her fingers. He felt awkward, having Cen translate such intimate things, but when she smiled, the discomfort melted away.
She touched her chest again, this time seeming to indicate herself. Then she indicated her lips and smiled.
“What does she mean?” Aaron asked Cen.
“I confess I haven’t used the shadowling sign language in decades, so my vocabulary isn’t as complete as I might like. I will work on filling any gaps,” he said quickly. “I believe she’s describing herself.” He turned back to the faerie. “
Aoibhneach
?” he asked.
She nodded again, smiling widely.
“What does that word mean?” Aaron asked.
“In English you would say glad, elated, or joyful.”
Aaron smiled at her, even though she couldn’t see him. “Tell her we have a name in English: Joy. Ask if she would like to take that name.”
She responded to the suggestion with another kiss to his hand and a happy expression. The happiness was somehow enhanced, rather than marred, by her many scars. Aaron suspected others didn’t see what he did, but to him, she was perfect. “Joy,” he repeated. “A beautiful name.”
After Cen translated, Aaron asked him, “One last thing before you go. Would you ask if she would allow my attendant to help her bathe? And also, ask a steward if he can find more suitable clothing for her.” Her clothes were little more than rags. When he brought her to the Druid Hall, he wanted her to feel like she belonged.
Cen did as requested, and a worried frown appeared on Joy’s face. She pulled her arms in tightly and covered herself, as though suddenly embarrassed about her state. But Cen continued speaking to her in a gentle tone. Aaron had no idea what the scribe said, but he appeared to soothe her worries.
She shook her head once, then pointed at Aaron. Cen seemed to be trying to convince her, but she stood her ground.
“I’m sorry, my lord druid,” Cen finally said. “She won’t consent to an attendant bathing her. Only you.”
Aaron blinked. “Right,” he said. “Well, please tell her I’ll help get her situated, and I’ll wait outside while she bathes. I…” He felt foolish for making such a fuss, but he didn’t feel comfortable. She tugged on his heart, and he wanted to do anything she asked. But she was vulnerable, clinging to him because he offered her a better life. The last thing he intended was to take advantage of her or for her to think he had expectations.
“I understand,” Cen said, with an amused smile. He spoke to Joy for a few more moments, until she seemed to agree with whatever he was saying. Then, Cen stood. “I believe she is ready, my lord druid. If I have your leave, I will deliver your message to the princess and procure the clothing the lady requires.”
“Thank you,” Aaron said. “Your help will be of great value to me. When we arrive at the Druid Hall, we’ll sort out your duties. I’ll make sure you have the opportunity to study as well as work.”
“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, my lord druid. Of course, I won’t turn down working with the other druid lords and learning more runes, but this provides a unique chance for me. I’d like to work with you both as much as you need, if it pleases you.”
“It does,” Aaron said.
The scribe bowed to him and left. Aaron gazed down at the faerie. “Joy,” he said softly. She smiled up at him and nodded. He held out his hand, and she accepted his support. If the state of her eyes wasn’t obvious, he would swear she could see. “Let’s get you to the bath,” he said.
After calling for his attendant to prepare water for Joy, he guided her to the bathing room. He tested the water, then took her hand and touched it to the surface. Her expression changed from happiness to fear. She clung to him. “You’re okay.” He hoped his tone was enough to reassure her. “I’m right here.”
She shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder. He couldn’t tell how old she was, what her education or experience might be, but he suspected if she’d ever taken a bath, the event was either too long ago to remember or it had proved horrifying.
“Okay,” he said, uncertain what to do. She couldn’t go the rest of her life without a bath, but how could he convince her everything would be all right?
He slipped off his shoes. She glanced down at the sound. He knelt, taking her foot in his hand. She allowed him to remove her tattered shoes. He continued with this process, one piece of clothing at a time, until they were both undressed. His heart ached at the black scars covering her crimson skin. Her body was criss-crossed with long, thick stripes and old burn marks.
Keeping hold of her hand, Aaron stepped into the tub and guided her to do the same. With some trepidation, she followed. Gently, they sat together in the warm water, Joy with her back to Aaron’s chest. He handed her a bathing sponge and poured soap into it. She smelled it, turning to him with a smile, but didn’t seem certain what to do. He put his hand over hers, and guided her through washing herself. She quickly understood.
In truth, she needed a thorough scrubbing, but he didn’t want to risk upsetting her. Fortunately, she seemed to enjoy the process and got quite vigorous with the bathing sponge. The water darkened with grime.
She washed herself from head to foot, and the faerie that emerged at the end, although still scarred and timid, was even more beautiful. The potential bond pulled at his heart when she smiled in his direction. How she could be happy after everything that happened to her, Aaron didn’t understand. Every scar on her body told a horrifying tale of neglect and hardship. He handed her a soft cloth to dry her skin and took one for himself. He tried not to stare. Even though she was blind, he didn’t think it would be respectful.
His attendant appeared as Aaron was drying himself. “My lord druid,” he said. “I didn’t realise you would be washing as well. You should have sent for me.”
“No worries,” Aaron said. “Lady Joy needed my help.” He didn’t know why he called her that, but the title fit. If she was to be his bond-mate, and he hoped she would, she deserved the same courtesy as any noblewoman. He regarded her, and his head swam. “Jalail, I’m feeling lightheaded.”
“Are you unwell, my lord druid?”
“No. It’s the bonding magic.” He paused. “Has Cen arrived with clothing for the lady?”
“Yes, a moment ago. He dropped them off, then hurried to gather his things for the journey. He said he’d meet us in the main courtyard.”
“Good.” He looked at Joy, who had turned toward him as though watching him. “Please help her dress. The lady will need her own attendant at the Druid Hall, but if you don’t mind, I would appreciate your assistance. I’m afraid I don’t know anything about women’s clothing.”
“I will aid you both, my lord druid.” Jalail lowered his voice. “It is an honourable thing you are doing, to bond with one they call a shadowling, even as the azuri prince takes the Zalian princess. It will mean a great deal to many here.”
Aaron nodded, not knowing how to disabuse the attendant of the idea that he
chose
Joy. He guided her to his chamber, where Jalail dressed them both. She seemed to find the attention strange, and she reacted timidly, but she complied with the attendant’s gentle guidance and occasional words.
Joy ran her hand over the soft, velvet dress Cen had brought. The dress was full and its skirt divided, to make travelling easier. The silver shade looked luscious against the dark crimson of her skin. The scribe had even thought to bring several pairs of slippers. Jalail had Joy sit, and he helped her find the ones which fit best.
Aaron watched, fascinated. A fever made sweat emerge on his brow. His eyes grew hot and watered. The magic was beginning to take a toll. He would need to tell the Mistwatchers what to expect. His condition might not get any worse. Douglas had been feverish, but ultimately fine when he bonded with Tràth. Munro, on the other hand, said he’d been delirious for days. “Jalail, would you tell her I think she looks beautiful?”
The attendant translated, and Joy tilted her face up to Aaron. She ran her hand over her bald head, as though trying to cover her many scars. He’d meant to pay her a compliment, but she seemed puzzled and sad. She shook her head once and looked away, breaking Aaron’s heart.
“Are we all packed?” Aaron asked Jalail.
“Yes, my lord druid.”
“Please tell the Mistwatchers we’re ready to leave.”
“Yes, my lord druid,” Jalail repeated and left.
In less than an hour, they were on their way. The journey passed quickly. Joy stayed close to Aaron, but seemed to enjoy the run. He wondered if she’d travelled before. He looked forward to the day when they could communicate freely, so he might learn about her life. When the group approached the portal, she held her hand out to touch the orb of light. Passing her hand through its energy, she quickly withdrew it.