Page 41 of The Gargoyle's Glade
“Head hurts. Thirsty.” It seemed to take a lot from her to speak, her voice rusty and slow.
“Of course.” Urgency crashed through me as I scrambled to my feet, holding her body as close to mine as I could as I lifted us off the ground with my wings, gliding us back to her cabin.
Once inside, I settled her in a dining chair instead of the sofa at her insistence, though it was against my better judgment. I hastily gathered water, tea, a selection of Grace’s food, and broth, putting it all on the table in front of her. Her coordination was still very poor, so I pulled my chair right up beside hers and helped steady her hand when it trembled under the weight of the glass. Her brown eyes held my face as I guided the water to her mouth.
“Don’t like this, either,” she managed after several careful sips, tears in her eyes.
“I’m sure it hurts your pride, I know it would mine, but you’re doing fantastically. Just a few hours ago you couldn’t even open your eyes when you wanted to.” I fed her a small bite of honey cake with my fingers, trying to ignore the flash of heat that passed through me as her lips grazed my skin. “Tell me what you need. I’ll get it for you. Anything.”
“Medicine?”
I nearly broke the chair I got up so quickly to fetch the elixir. Once she’d had a good dose, she started to slump.
“Tired?”
She nodded, eyes slowly closing.
“Let’s get you in bed then.”
Stubborn indeed, she insisted on walking instead of having me carry her. She hugged the wall and shuffled into the bathroom first.
Her words were soft as I pulled up the blanket on her bed. “Thank you.”
She was out before her next breath, and I exhaled what felt like the first full breath since I’d found her by the pools.
Chapter 17
Merry
For someone who had done almost nothing but sleep for the better part of a week, I was unreasonably exhausted. Healing was best done while resting, sure, but I was tired of being tired.
I woke again sometime near midday and forced myself to get up before I slipped back to sleep. After a very slow, deliberate walk to the bathroom, re-learning how to make my body move how I wanted it to, I returned to the main room and found Coltor napping on my sofa. I approached him slowly, trying to keep from disturbing him. I wanted a moment to examine the man who’d cared for me with such gentle dedication. It was only by luck when I bumped one of the dining chairs, he remained unbothered.
His sharply angled features were softened by sleep, but not by much. One of his legs had slipped off the cushions, and his booted foot was flat on the floor, the opposite arm flung up over his head. It was adorable but made me feel bad that someone of his size had to make do with such improperly fitted furniture when he was surely exhausted. The poor man hadn’t left my side except for short times since my mind had splintered.
I turned and went to fetch myself some of the elixir and more water, cheeks hot with a blush. His tender care had almost certainly helped put me back together, and there was no ignoring how that made me feel.
As I was staring some more, debating whether or not I felt well enough to eat something or perhaps go check my plants, there was a mighty scuffle outside. The heavy beat of hooves against the ground and a distant but familiar whinny had me tripping toward the door.
Coltor woke with a start, on his feet nearly the moment he opened his eyes. “Merry?”
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice still full of gravel and slow to work.
He followed my movements toward the door with his eyes, confusion rapidly changing to concern. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“You took me.”
“I did. But I warned them to keep to themselves first.”
“They didn’t hurt me. Not on purpose.” I twitched a grin at his indignant glare. “Jacks.” My horse’s whinny carried through the open window again.
Coltor moved quickly enough he was out the door before me, an arm around my waist for support as I shuffled onto the porch. My limbs worked but still felt as though they were weighed down by stones.
My horse was misbehaving mightily as he plowed down the path, stomping and causing a terrible scene. Most concerning, it appeared he had a rider while being so erratic.
“Jacks!” I tried to yell, but my damaged throat didn’t allow for much volume.
“Ophelia?” Coltor breathed the sorceress’s name with incredulity, making sure my hands were both gripping the porch railing before leaving me to greet the visitors.
