Page 52 of Tales of a Monstrous Heart
‘Kat !’ someone shouted, the call echoing across the empty village from the healing house’s doorway.
Our attention turned to the main entrance just as William almost tumbled down the steps, hair in disarray from the rush of the portal’s magic. Breath panted though his lips as he came to a skidding halt, kicking up dirt, eyes wide with fear.
‘William?’ Emrys called, striding towards the boy with alarm.
‘It’s Alma …’ He half stuttered. I didn’t let him finish, picking up my skirts and racing across the distance between us. Emrys called my name but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t.
I’d failed her again.
Chapter Sixteen
There was once a boy, cursed to become a beast, marvelled over as one blessed by the Old Gods.
Then man wished to be blessed too, so they hunted him like the beast he pretended to be. Skinned his many pelts, ate his flesh, and sucked the marrow from his bones. Finding no magic in their bellies, only hunger for all the things they could never be.
– Fables of the Old Beasts, 1374
‘Alma? !’ I called, tripping over the clutter of the study as I skidded into the hallway and up the stairs of Blackthorn Manor, following a strange crying sound coming from down the hall. The trinkets on the walls rattling in the direction I needed to go, stairs clattering with warning as I flew around another corner. The floor covered in papers and books – a sideboard had fallen over as if something had crashed into it, causing the drawers and cupboards to be thrown open.
Beneath all the mess was Alma. Eyes wide and bloodshot, panting wildly as she convulsed, dark curls matted and stuck to her damp face. Her usually warm skin was horribly pale, her naked body curled into a foetal position.
‘Alma !’ I pushed the sideboard off her with little effort, my arms sweeping papers out of the way, dropping to my knees to pull her clammy and unstable form into my arms.
Blood coated her lips as she coughed weakly, breaths wheezed from between her teeth. Another convulsion took over her, an animalistic wail caught in her throat. I pressed the back of my hand against her forehead, too warm despite how violently her teeth chattered.
‘S-s-orry,’ she panted, trying to breathe, the spasming of her muscles making her curl in on herself to try and conceal her naked form.
I tore off my jacket, stitches popping with the haste as I pressed it against her feverish skin, trying to cover her.
‘It’s going to be all right,’ I soothed as she tried to hold on to me, fingers clumsy with weakness.
She was back and I had to stop the sting of tears coming to my eyes with relief as I took in the lavender-and-rosemary scent of her.
‘Kat?’ Emrys called, coming to a skidding halt before all the mess. His attention solely focused on me, his grey eyes dark with worry.
‘She hasn’t stayed in one form so long before,’ I said, stumbling over my words, unsure for a moment if I should hide her from his gaze or ask for help. As Alma trembled vulnerably in my arms, the choice seemed made, her skin changing from feathers to fur and back again as the spasms overtook her once more.
There was a ripping sound, as Emrys pulled a threadbare, priceless tapestry from the wall and laid the rough fabric over her. As if it was no more than a blanket.
Our noses almost brushed with the closeness of him. His gaze met mine, awaiting command.
‘I … I need my things.’ My voice broke as I tried to shift Alma’s weight in my arms.
‘Let’s get her to your room.’ He nodded, reaching out to take her gently from me. Strangely, I let him, as he effortlessly picked her up, curling her in that tapestry to cover her completely. He had her cradled securely in his arms just as William came to the end of the hall, out of breath and panicked.
‘Bloody saints, is she all right?’ he asked, running a hand over his horns in distress.
‘William, boil some water please. We’ll need a brewing cup,’ I said. The boy turned on his heel and ran back down the stairs without another word.
Emrys moved past me and over the mess with ease towards my room. I struggled to match his pace, skirts bundled in my arms.
‘Her convulsions don’t usually last this long.’ I squeezed past him in the narrow hallway to get the bedroom door open, throwing it wide as I crossed to the bed and pulled the sheets back.
He deposited her on it gently without question as another convulsion made her back arch. Her breath panted through her lips, the skin of her face becoming scaled before settling back to flesh with an odd greenish hue.
‘Oh, Alma.’ I pushed her damp, sweat-matted hair off her face and pressed my fingers to her neck to check her pulse, which was hammering ridiculously fast.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered again before it turned into another string of tremors that stole her breath.
