Unwilling (Book One of the Compelled Trilogy 1) (15 page)

“I-“ he began, stopping, unsure of what to say without scaring her, or making her turn from him in disgust.
I need you. I love you. You are my entire world.

“You could show me.” She volunteered, sincerity showing through her eyes. She laid back on one elbow, her hair tumbling down her arm like a midnight waterfall. Jace wanted nothing more in the entire world than to show her everything he had ever thought about her.

Jace moved back to the bed before he even had the thought that he was going to move. Startled, Rowan fell back on the bed, her eyes trusting as she looked up at him. Jace lingered over her, his body incased in a heat that seemed to Jace to make him slightly insane. She closed her eyes slowly and opened them again and he could see the heat in her too. Even if she did not know quite what it meant.

“Jace.” That was all. His name. All the pleading in the world behind it and it broke down every ounce of his self-control. When she said his name like that, he knew, she wanted him too. “Jace.” She said again, this time laced with a kind of urgency, a different one though then he was expecting. He pulled back, her eyes had grown concerned. “JACE!” She yelled, and he bolted upright.

Rowan stood over him, anxiety written on her face. He was wrapped in blankets and he grabbed one more to quickly cover his upper legs, heat rushing to his cheeks. He bowed his head, angry suddenly, that even in a dream he had let himself be so carried away. “Are you alright, you were talking in your sleep, I didn’t know…“ She trailed off, her eyes searching his with a dark look behind them, as if she were remembering some horrible memory.

“I’m fine.” He grumbled and immediately wished he could take it back. She looked hurt, and it was not her he was mad at but himself.

“Ok,” Rowan said quietly, turning her head and walking from the room, leaving Jace alone with his troubled thoughts.

It had been the most vivid dream he had ever had, probably thanks to the fact that she had slept curled by his side the night before, but it had been nothing more than kindness on her part that had invited him into bed with her, and he would do best to remember that. He had taken her simple act of charity, and blown it way out of proportion.

Got his head in the clouds that boy.
Jace thought angrily, his mothers words flinging up to laugh at him in his moment of misery.

How could someone like her; beautiful, kind, smart, pure, perfect in every way, ever return the feelings for someone like him? A poor baker’s son. With nothing more to offer her than the love he had in his heart and perhaps a cabin like this one. She had grown up in a mansion with expensive yellow dresses and would find a match that could give her that again. That’s what she deserved anyway, and he was only fooling himself to think she thought otherwise.

Jace cursed as he tossed the blankets from him, letting them fall heavily across the bed to drape onto the floor. He slammed his body into his clothes, rubbing his palms angrily over his eyes to clear the grit. When he stepped into the hall, with a scowl on his face and in no mood to converse, he found Jonquil looking to do exactly that.

“Heey! Have any FUN last night?” Jonquil asked with a laugh, poking Jace in the ribs with his elbow. Jace reacted on instinct; slamming his fist so hard into Jonquil’s face, he swore he broke every bone in it.

“Damnit!” Jonquil shouted, blood pouring from his nose. “I didn’t mean anything by it Jace, only a joke.” He sputtered, blood staining the front of his dark shirt.

Jace stalked off, leaving Jonquil behind him before he did something stupid. Like hit Jonquil again. Or choke the life from the stupid man for insinuating that Rowan was the type of person that could, that she would... Jace swore, smacking a wall to stop himself from going back for round two with Jonquil.

Jace stepped outside the cabin. Breathing in damp air from the rain the night before.  The rain had stopped now and the sun shone feebly through the trees canopy. Water dripped idly from branches and the roof, making music with the birds. Jace swore again, his anger ebbing in the cold morning air.

“He shunt have that that. Not to you. Any fool kin see that you’re gone for that girl.” Two fingered Chev said stepping onto the porch.

“Yea, and what do you know of it?” Jace demanded, more hostile than he had meant to.

“More than some would think.” Two Fingered Chev said absently, running a finger across the tallies on his arm. Jace said nothing to that, only plopped down on the steps, resting his elbows on his knees.

“She doesn’t feel the same.” He stated, a hollow feeling piercing his chest that just might cleave him clear in half.

“Some would be surprised.” Chev responded, and by the time Jace whipped around to question him farther, he had already slipped back inside, in that silent way of his.

Jace stood, thinking a walk would do him good. It would give him a better chance to check out their surroundings. And give him an excuse to go anywhere but back inside the house, where he would have to face Jonquil and apologize. Or face Rowan, and love her so desperately but never be able to say so to her. Neither option sounded appealing to him, so a walk it was.

Jace hadn’t been walking long when he smelt it. He covered his nose with his sleeve to keep from gagging as he halted over the bodies. They lay in a low ditch, as though someone had started to dig a grave for them but then found a better use of their time, leaving the bodies to the elements and animals.

They were an older couple, their hair gray, and their skin wrinkled. The man had several stab wounds in his chest and the blood soaking his shirt was dark with age. The woman however had lacerations covering most of her body. He couldn’t tell which wound had been the killing blow. Maybe all of them were, slowly leaking her life’s blood until she was nothing more than skin over some bones.

Whoever did it had really hated this woman,
Jace thought. He was about to turn away when he saw it. The symbol carved in the tree by the heads of the dead bodies.

It was an eye, and Jace shivered. He felt like it was watching him, that the carving could see him standing there, observing it. It felt evil. At the bottom of the eye were some words in a language Jace did not know.

Jace hurried back to the house to fetch Rowan. He burst through the cabins front door, panting. “Rowan!” Jace called, his voice urgent. She came into view from the kitchen, looking confused. “There’s something you should see.” He told her breathlessly. She nodded, following him back through the woods, accompanied by Chev.

Chev said nothing, as usual, while he observed the murders. Rowan was muttering under her breath, pacing. When she saw the drawing she gasped and hurried to it, tracing the image with her fingers. Her small delicate fingers slipped over the curved lines of the eye, as if trying to commit them to memory. Last Rowan felt the words, mumbling to herself as she did so.

“Do you know what they mean?” Jace asked, curiosity getting the best of him, despite the morbidity.

“Yes” Rowan said, raising her eyes from the tree to stare fearfully back at him. “My mother used to say it to us when…” she dawdled off, turning back to the tree. “I am the master. I am God. It says.” Her voice broke at the end and she let her hand fall limply to her side.

Rowan turned away from him and hurried off into the woods. Jace started to follow her but Chev grabbed his wrist holding him back. “Let her go.” He said gruffly, releasing him once he was sure Jace wouldn’t go after her. “Go and find a shovel.” Chev said, staring solemnly down at the old couple.

Jace stood there, wanting desperately to go after her, knowing Chev was right and he should give Rowan some time alone to deal with what she just saw. In the end, Jace did as he was asked and the pair buried the dead properly in a silence filled with so many questions and words it was a wonder that not talking did not strangle them both.

                                          ҉              ҉              ҉

Jace was pacing the cabin’s kitchen feverishly, his thoughts manic, and had just decided to send a search party after Rowan when she returned. Night had fallen and owls were screeching at each other when the door banged open and Rowan came straggling into the room, the bottom of her shirt was stained red with blood that had leaked down into her pants. Her eyes were glossy and her skin was abnormally pale. She stammered something unintelligible, and buckled in a heap on the floor.

              TWELVE

“Rowan!” Half the men in the room yelled in unison while the other half gasped. Jonquil was the closest to her and he looked unusually afraid as he swooped her up and carried her to her room, laying her tentatively on the bed and looking around with wide, frightened eyes. Jace would have shoved his way through the throng of men hovering in the doorway, but they all moved aside to let him through. Apparently, he was not as good at disguising his feelings for Rowan as he thought he had been.              

“Vordis!” Jace yelled, though he doubted the doctors’ credibility in the medical field. So far, he had been fairly useless, treating a cough here, or a headache there, until Tomman had fallen sick and even then all he did was poke the boy and declare he was too far gone. “Vordis!” Jace shouted again, the panic in his voice ringing loud for all to hear and judge, but he hardly cared.

His eyes darted over Rowan’s body, his stomach churning at the sight of the blood that covered the bottom half of her. Jace clenched his fists, feeling hopeless and angry.

“I’m here, I’m here, young man,” said the small old man, his breaths coming out in short labored gasps. “Everybody out.” Vordis shooed slowly, waving his hands as if the men gathered around the doorframe were a bunch of flies. Pickard began clearing people from the room, for once not saying anything. Pickard looked at Jace and Jace stared daggers back at him, daring anyone to try to remove him from the room.

Pickard shook his head, closing the door behind him as he left the room, leaving Jace alone with Vordis and Rowan.

Rowan gasped at that moment, sucking a sharp breath into her lungs and Jace knelt by the bed taking her hand in his.
She is burning!
Jace thought to himself, clenching his teeth and blinking hard.

Vordis began examining her, flipping her body around to find the source of the blood. He lifted her shirt around her waist and Jace looked down at the floor, a pang of guilt rising in him to have seen a part of her body uncovered.

Vordis grumbled and Jace forced himself to look back up, his stomach doing summersaults when he looked back at Rowan. A large gash, deep and still trickling blood, was on the left side of her stomach, the flesh there torn and hanging down. When Vordis prodded the open flesh, thick green pus poured out. “Poison.” Vordis declared, his brow furrowed.

Jace felt bile rising in his throat but forced it down with a swallow. A cold terror snaked its way through him, making him feel numb, as if he was watching Rowan die in front of him from a thousand miles away. Jace clenched her hand as though he could make her better just by sheer will.

Vordis cleaned and stitched the wound with a needle and thread found in a drawer in the kitchen while Jace looked on dazedly, unable to look away and hating himself for only being able to stand idly by and watch as Rowan grew paler, her breaths more shallow.

Rowan had started to grow feverish while Vordis stitched her wound, tossing and turning, sweat dripping from her fore head. She cried out several times, running from demons in her head. Once, she began weeping and Jace wiped her tears, forcing himself not to break down and succumb to the fear that threatened to overcome him. Rowan needed him to be strong, so he would be.

“There is nothing more I can do.” Vordis told Jace sadly, wringing his blood soaked hands. “I know not what kind of poison this is, and without knowing…” Vordis trailed off, his mouth set in a grim line. Jace nearly chocked the useless man to death with his bare hands. “The most we can do is make her comfortable.” He said, the finality in his voice striking Jace like a fist.

“Get out. Get out and don’t come back.” Jace growled aggressively, his voice low with anger and disbelief that Vordis was ready to just give up without trying. Jace was not acting like himself, he knew, and he drew a deep breath to calm the murderous thoughts that ran rampant in his head as Vordis turned his back on him and left the room, shutting Jace in with his misery.

Jace wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had taken up vigil by Rowans side. It could have been days, months, maybe even years. It felt like an eternity that stretched right on to the end of the world, to him. Rowan continued to got worse; her skin turned a sour yellow color, her long black hair began to fall out, and she would scream for hours at a time, until her voice grew hoarse and she chocked on the dry ache in her throat.

Several times, she called for Elias and began to sob. Jace’s already shredded heart breaking into a thousand pieces for her. Jace cradled her head in his lap, as she had done for Tomman when he lay dying. He stroked her cheek, keeping the hair from her face. Twice she called for him, saying his name in a tiny voice. Once, that would have made his heart leap, but now it only shattered it into a million pieces he knew would never fit back together.