“This is your bed, Eleanor, do you want to sleep or eat something first?”
She was hungry. The rough bread rolls Amelia had given her on the way up the mountain, though welcome, had done little to satisfy her, but with every muscle and bone in her body screaming for rest, Eleanor looked longingly at the bed.
“I think I need to sleep,” she whispered.
Will and Freddie moved back to the main cave, smiling at Eleanor as they left. Amelia patted the mattress, as if beckoning a child. Eleanor walked over wearily, pulled off her boots and climbed under the bed’s surprisingly soft blanket; she eased herself down, sinking into the pillow with relief. Amelia picked up the boots, looking at them with distaste.
“Tomorrow we’ll get you something more comfortable to wear.”
Eleanor nodded, but her eyes were already closing, sleep pulling her away.
“Eleanor…”
The voice was familiar, raising her from the depths of exhausted sleep, but it was the wrong voice; there was no soft growl to it. Eleanor opened her eyes. Will sat on the side of her bed; he smiled at her, deep-blue eyes filled with a gentle concern.
“You’ve been asleep for over twenty-four hours; we thought you might starve to death if we didn’t wake you.”
Eleanor nodded in agreement, as she could feel her stomach protesting. She turned her head. Amelia sat on the edge of Conlan’s bed. His jacket was gone and the blanket was pulled down to his waist. A bowl of water resting on her knees, Amelia was doing her best to remove some of the blood and dirt that covered him. His body was a sea of purple and green bruises, cuts and abrasions making bloody tracks across his skin. Many were serious enough that they would eventually be adding to the considerable collection of old scars that covered him – mute evidence of abuse he had endured in the past. His sleeping expression was peaceful. He did not stir as Amelia tenderly turned his head to the side so she could wipe the encrusted blood off, once more revealing the long scar that ran down his face.
“He’ll be OK,” said Will. “He just needs some rest. I’ve sedated him, so he’ll sleep for a while longer yet.”
“You’re a doctor?” Eleanor asked, her eyes moving to Will from Conlan’s slumbering body.
“No, but I
was
a navy diver. I have the basics of first aid and battlefield triage. Come on, there’s food ready,” he said, helping Eleanor to sit.
He led her out to the main cave. The floor was cold on her bare feet, and through the cave’s main entrance Eleanor could see snow falling in the pale daylight. There were several large green cushions on a thick multi-coloured rug, which lay in front of the blazing fire. Will steered her towards the nearest. She settled herself cross-legged and looked around the cave. It seemed bigger than before, but Eleanor realised that she was seeing it fully lit for the first time. She gazed around. A neatly stacked log pile and the crude but sturdy cabinets and table that served as a kitchen gave an air of homely domesticity. Off the larger cave were several smaller spaces that she had glimpsed before in the shadows. In the one nearest to the main entrance Eleanor could see Rand, his head drooped as he dozed. Through the next entrance there appeared to be a large open space. Freddie was moving backwards and forwards inside, swinging his sword in slow, steady, fluid movements. The third cave was too dark for Eleanor to see inside. She turned back to watch Freddie instead.
“He’s upped his practice; I think he’s a little miffed you got a kill in before he did,” Will said, nodding towards Freddie as he handed Eleanor a rough clay bowl with a thick brown stew in it and a wooden spoon. The shocked face of the man she had killed jumped into Eleanor’s mind. She placed the bowl down on the rug, her hunger abruptly vanishing, replaced with a cold, clammy, sickly feeling.
“It’s not got meat in it,” Will said, misinterpreting the look on her face. “Conlan told me on the way up here you were a vegetarian.” Still thinking about the dead men, Eleanor looked at the concern in Will’s eyes. The thought of Conlan caring enough about her well-being to tell someone about her dietary requirements made her smile.
“What else did Conlan tell you about me?”
“Not much. He’s not really one for idle gossip.” Will stooped to pick up the bowl of food, holding it out to her. “Please, Eleanor, eat something,” he insisted.
She took the bowl out of his hands and began to eat. It was good – almost as good as the stew Conlan had made her in the wood – and she was working her way through a second bowl when Amelia came out of the bedroom, placed the wash bowl and rags on the floor by the kitchen and then made herself comfortable on a cushion by the fire. Will came up behind her and, crouching, wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to kiss the side of her neck.
“How’s our patient?” he enquired, pulling his arms tighter around Amelia, as if they could ward off all the bad things in the world.
Amelia sighed. “He’s in a bad way; I’ve not seen him this beat up since our visit to Nethrus. How much longer can you keep him sedated for?”
“Not much longer. I have no idea what long-term use of these herbs will do to him; besides, he’s going to have to eat and drink something eventually,” Will said.
“You know what he’s like, Will, the minute he wakes up he’s going to want to try the connection – and that’s draining for him at the best of times. The state he’s in right now, it could kill him,” Amelia said, fatigue taking the power from her statement.
“We’ll leave him asleep until tomorrow,” Will agreed. “But he’s going to be angry when he finds out.”
Amelia gave a resigned nod. “I’d rather have him fuming than dead.”
Eleanor watched the casual way they kissed, touched and reassured each other, and she wondered how long they had been a couple. Feeling a little like she was intruding on a private moment, she turned to gaze into the fire. Caught up in her thoughts she jumped when Amelia placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Sorry, you were miles away,” she said. “I was just saying, I have a surprise for you.”
Amelia took her hand and led her past the cave in which Freddie was still swinging his sword, sweat making his dark skin glisten. Eleanor was led into the cave she had not been able to see into earlier. It was much smaller than any she had so far seen and it was warmer; lanterns lit the small space with their soft orange glow. On the left as they entered were several heavy wooden boxes and over-stuffed bags with items of clothing scattered across them. Towards the rear of the cave there was an ornate wooden screen that looked very out of place in its rough surroundings. Still holding her hand, Amelia pulled Eleanor behind the screen. In front of her was a large metal tub, filled with water so hot she could see the steam coming off it. The soft smell of lavender filled the air.
“A bath! You have a bath,” Eleanor squealed, unable to hide her delight.
Amelia nodded. “It’s an occasional treat, takes too much fuel, but it keeps me sane.” She pointed to a small, private recess in the wall indicating a wooden stool with a hole in it and a metal bucket underneath. She smiled. “There’s a toilet too.”
Eleanor felt tears welling up.
“Are those tears of joy?” Amelia asked, looking worried. Eleanor nodded but admitted to herself she was not entirely sure. With Amelia’s help Eleanor discarded her dirty, torn, ill-fitting clothing and climbed into the steaming water. It was so amazingly good that she felt the urge to cry again. Amelia left her to wash away the dirt, blood and grime of her flight from Bremen. She carefully removed the bandage from her arm, thinking Will would provide a clean one for her when she was washed. The wound, however, looked almost healed. It was going to leave a scar, but the thick scab spoke of days of healing, not hours. Surprised, Eleanor ran her fingers over the injury.
No pain.
There should have been pain, it should have taken some time to heal, perhaps have needed stitches. Puzzled, she began inspecting her body for other differences, but she stopped short as Amelia came back with what looked like a towel.
Shocked and a little frightened, Eleanor looked at her. “Amelia, where’s my tummy button?”
“You weren’t born – you don’t have one.”
Eleanor heard the amusement in Amelia’s voice, but she found the changes a shock; it was all rather scary.
“I really am different,” she murmured. “How did you deal with this?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Amelia thought about the question for a moment before she answered.
“I was an air force pilot before I died; I was used to following orders. Conlan gave orders, I followed them. He said don’t ask questions, don’t think too much about it, so I didn’t, and Will was always there, by my side when it got too much. He just listened and held me while I came to terms with this bizarre new reality. He never complained, although I’m fairly certain I was hell to live with for quite a while, and I fell in love with that strength. He became my world and his world became my reality, then nothing before him mattered anymore. I embraced the new me, because it had brought me Will.”
Eleanor smiled. The love in Amelia’s voice was so passionate she almost felt a part of it too. “Plus there are advantages,” Amelia continued. “We are stronger and faster than the average human being. We have much better immunities and hardly ever get sick. We have a very high pain threshold and heal quickly. We can stand extremes of hot and cold easier and for longer. I don’t know if the same will apply to you, but I also don’t get periods – can’t tell you what a relief that is, living with three guys.”
Eleanor picked up the change in her tone; she was trying too hard to make her last comment sound positive.
“We can’t have children?” Eleanor deduced.
Amelia shook her head. “Will and I have been together for years, so if it was possible, believe me, it would have happened by now,” she said sadly, hiding unshed tears. Clearly Amelia was upset that she could not have children.
Should I be upset about this?
Eleanor had never really considered herself ‘mother’ material, but she had not discounted that she might have children at some point in the distant future. Having the decision taken from her left her with a cold feeling, but she understood why Conlan might have done it. It would be hard to save the world with a baby in tow; plus, Eleanor suspected even the most ardent ‘Earth-Mother’ would draw the line at raising a baby in a cave.
Are Will and Freddie incapable of fathering children too?
It seemed a little unfair if it was just her and Amelia, but it was also a question she did not think she wanted to ask.
Amelia held up the large, soft piece of material she had brought as a towel for Eleanor to step into. Wrapped in its cosy warmth, Eleanor sat on the floor while Amelia brushed out her damp hair. Amelia left briefly so Eleanor could use the toilet and when she came back she was carrying a short stick, which she handed to Eleanor.
“Use it to brush your teeth,” she explained. “It’s not as good as going to the dentist, but it sure beats furry mouth syndrome. I have a good supply of this stuff, but I’ll show you which plant it comes from when the snow melts. Now, let’s get you something to wear.” Eleanor sniffed at the stick. It smelt vaguely minty; she put it into her mouth, chewing the end a little until the bark split, and then rubbed the pulpy innards over her teeth, which tasted minty too. Amelia was right – it was definitely better than furry teeth.
Amelia led her over to the wooden chests and bags, which, it turned out, was her rather extensive wardrobe. Eleanor allowed Amelia to dress her in several outfits, feeling a little like a child’s doll, before settling on a pair of overly long, but comfortable trousers with a shirt and jacket. After some rummaging a pair of soft, brown leather boots were found, which Amelia explained were far too small for her. They fit Eleanor perfectly and did a wonderful job of making the trousers look like they fit too. Amelia took a step back, nodded and smiled. Eleanor returned the smile, relived her new friend had stopped playing dress up.
They came and sat back in front of the fire, and Will handed them both mugs of what tasted a lot like sweet, black tea. Warm, clean and comfortable for the first time in what felt like forever, Eleanor became sleepy again. Amelia and Will sat wrapped in each other, whispering softly. As she stared into the fire a little dazed, her mind floating and blessedly not thinking of anything, Freddie sat down beside her. He stared into the fire with her.
“What you did, back in the canyon, it was really brave,” he said.
Eleanor shook her head, remembering her trembling body. “I didn’t really have much choice.”
“It was still really brave,” Freddie persisted. “Where did you learn that flicking sword move?”
Eleanor shrugged. “I didn’t really learn it anywhere, it was pure dumb luck.”
“Brave
and
modest,” Freddie said smiling at her.
Eleanor sighed, irritated for some reason by Freddie’s friendly conversation. “Whatever, I guess it doesn’t make that man any less dead.”
All amiable humour fled from Freddie’s face. “He was a Protector, Eleanor; he would’ve killed you and Conlan in a heartbeat and lost no sleep over it. You did the right thing.”
“Why do the Protectors hate us? Why do they think we’re abominations?” Eleanor asked.
Freddie looked deep into the fire, like he was drawing strength from it. When he spoke, his voice had an angry edge to it.
“Because we
are
Eleanor. We’re unnatural. Dead souls reanimated. There are people who run this land, the Lords of Mydren, who have banned us from existing. Conlan defied that law. The Lords have been quietly hunting him – and us – ever since. The Protectors are the Lords’ police, their private army, with Enforcers as their generals.”