Page 92 of Whisper Woods

“Ah, sugar tits. I don’t think you’re meant to be down here. If you hurt yourself, Seff’s going to get sad again, and I swear to the Gods, that boy being sad is the most depressing thing in the universe. I just can’t do it again.”

Edith. Through the pulsating pain at my temples, I’m vaguely aware that I have foundsomeone. I just don’t know if I have the mental or physical fortitude for the witch. I open my eyes just a crack, to watch her entering through the kitchen doorway.

Clutched in her arm is a bowl of nanosh berries. They are grown exclusively on the grounds of the Orun temple, and in a small patch of the forest on the border. The berries are outlandishly expensive and, from the pinkish juice smeared across her face, she’s eaten plenty.

“Where is everyone?” I grit out with monumental effort, watching through narrowed eyes as she rounds the long dining table to stand in front of me, sucking at her teeth for stray seeds.

She expels a breath and I smell the sweet juice right before she checks my temperature with the back of her hand against my forehead like a child.

“You’re all sweaty. We need to get you resting. Come on.” With her free arm she tugs me from my resting place, looping it around my back to keep me steady. For one horrifying moment, I think she’s going to take me to my office—a place I’m uncertain I am ready to face. But instead she leads me around the back of the staircase to the rear courtyard.

The gardens in the courtyard were not created by my mother, but they were made better by her loving care and attention. It is Sed who took over their care after my parents left our city home. But between the heat of the summer just past and the dying magic of Tathys, the garden is not up to its usual glory, and for some strange reason I feel compelled to apologise when Edith settles me on the cushions of the sun lounge.

“I’m sorry, the gardens... They are usually quite magnificent. Full of life. But things...” I trail off, wearily waving my hand at the sad, sagging trail of white blossoms that usually hang like vibrant, delicate beaded chains from the vines above us. The garden is missing its usual hum of insects and sprites, darting around the extravagant floral beds my mother had favoured. It’s strange how I never noticed the sound until it disappeared.

Apparently, my injuries are making me melancholy. But the witch just tucks one of her shawls over me like a blanket, humming a non-committal sound.

“I think you'll find life returning rather rapidly around here.” She reaches to touch one of the low hanging strings of flowers dangling from above. The old blossoms flutter down, but beneath them, tiny new green buds are already visible.

“Are you going to explain what’s going on?” I rub at my forehead to ease the pressure there. On top of everything else, today Edith is… different to the being I’ve come to know in my short time at the Black Stump Tavern. It’s unnerving to see her so mellow. She sits on the side of the other lounge chair, picking at the lace edge of her skirt.

“Honestly, Rafe, I’m not even sure where to start.” She sighs hard and pops another berry in her mouth while she chews and thinks.

“The beginning then. How did you all get into Tathys?”

“I found Seff after he’d been sent from here. He was… I never wish to see him that way again. It’s notrightfor him to be sad like that. It’s like the rain falling up or… I don’t know. It’s too unnatural to name. We talked, and it became very apparent there was something going on. The connection between you meant that being separated… It was hurting him. He told us about Tathys and the portals. We decided to bring him back to you. Unfortunately, we didn’t quite knowwhat we would stumble into.”

I snicker a humourless laugh, and Edith does the same. Our eyes meet briefly and a measure of understanding passes through the moment.

“I don’t know much about the current situation. The unfortunate downside of me playing the role of the crazy village idiot means that your people have not told me anything, and they are smart enough to not talk when I’m about. The benefit is that they left me to keep an eye on you whilst they have taken the others in for questioning.”

I jerk upright, my heart beating far too fast for my body. The quick movement makes my head spin and I reach out to steady myself. Edith grabs my hand.

“Please do not vomit. I refuse to clean it and I doubt that they will want to when they are returned to us.”

I look at Edith, really look at her, and see the pain in her bright purple eyes. They sparkle so bright I believe that she may actually cry.

“They took my babies, Rafe, and wouldn’t take me with them. The insolent shits all conspired to keep me here with you, said it would be safer for everyone if I wasn’t allowed to antagonise the palace. There’s a guard at every entrance and the magic here… I cannot pass it. What will they do with them?”

I am genuinely floored by Edith’s reaction. Yet entirely unsurprised. For however eccentric she may be, she loves Seff and his friends, and protects them fiercely.

“Honestly, I do not know. I don’t know why we are being held. I need to speak to Lia. She will have the answers. She will make everything right.”

“Is that your queen?”

“High Eminence, but yes, essentially she is the queen here in Tathys. The highest in our land.” Edith winces, blinking back the tears she is valiantly holding at bay.

“That is something Ihaveheard. She hasn’t regained consciousness. Apparently, it’s part of the conversations that are being had. There is no succession plan and with so many being held on charges for treason… It's chaos.”

I feel as though I have been punched in the guts. Lia isstillunconscious. I have to ask, even though I fear the answer. It would be too much to bear. “AndBrydon? Have you heard?”

Edith nods gingerly.

“It took days to get the information. We are also being held for treason. You included. Brydon… Brydon has only regained consciousness in the past day. But he is being held in the prisons at the palace with the being… Is thatreallyhis father?” She whispers the last bit, the idea of it too horrendous to speak out loud.

“Yes. Heylor is Brydon’s father. But not by birth. His mother was mated to Heylor, but it was not a true match. She fell in love with another, and Brydon was the result. Heylor claimed him, but it was not easy.”

Edith sucks on her teeth, then shakes her head. I can almostseeher mentally collecting Brydon into her menagerie of lost children.

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