Page 28 of The Gargoyle's Glade
Her positioning, the way her hand lay limply on the stone…
“Merry!” I shouted her name and lurched forward, the sound desperate as it reached my ears. The burn in my chest intensified as I grabbed at her wrist to check for a heartbeat.
She was bleary-eyed as she sat up violently, one arm swinging and the other dangling from my fingers. I was oddly relieved that at least she had some defensive instincts. The animals startled, several moving further away, feathers drifting on the breeze as she squinted and blinked, clearly trying to sort out what she was seeing. “Coltor?”
“What are you doing out here? Are you hurt?” My instincts screamed at me to grab her up, take her to her cabin, get her inside, and make her safe. I shook with the effort to contain that need as she ran a hand over her body, verifying she was in one piece.
“I’m fine. I… fell asleep after sitting in the water for a while.” Her hair was still damp now that I was looking, the color darker and her curls more pronounced.
She frowned, rubbing her free hand across her chest. Her eyes drifted from my face to my hand, and I released her. After a moment, I cautiously reached out to help her to her feet. Relief had washed away the bitter taste of fear, but I was still reeling. Twice in a day was too damn much for things like this. It was like the universe was testing me, having a laugh at my expense.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” I grumbled.
She dusted off the back of her skirts with her hands. “Looks like I did that to you first, so we’re even.”
I nodded and we stood there for a long moment, not speaking, glancing around awkwardly.
“Listen, Merry, I?—”
“Coltor about the?—”
We both tried to speak at once, starting and stopping at the same time before she broke the tension altogether by laughing at me. She started toward her cabin, the animals scattering then forming a tight wall around her. I hesitated so long I was effectively blocked out.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Come on then. You can bring all those carvings inside for me, then apologize properly over a bite to eat.” Merry stopped, finding me still standing where she’d left me, too stunned to move. “Youhavebeen practicing some kind of apology, haven’t you?” the smirk on her mouth, the way her eyebrow lifted in challenge did something to every bit of my ability to think clearly as all the blood in my head fled south. Finally, I managed a nod. “Good.” She spun, marching down the path with authority.
I ached for this woman.
After a long, noisy beat with animals of all kinds squawking and chattering around me, I made my body move and followed along behind her, a wholly different possible future, one that had nothing to do with my gift, playing behind my eyes.
Chapter 13
Merry
The daft man had hardly uttered a word since he’d called my name by the pools. There had been something in his voice, a particular kind of terror that I’d only heard once before. It made me shiver.
A few years back, my brother had climbed a tree every single adult in his life had told him explicitlynotto climb. It was too tall with not enough branches at good distance for steps. He’d been challenged by a schoolmate to climb higher than anyone else had before, and like an idiot, he’d taken the bait. To his credit, he’d managed to accomplish his task, but the branch he’d ascended to wasn’t sturdy enough to hold him.
My mother’s scream as he tumbled to the unforgiving ground below still echoed in my ears. More than one broken bone was owed to that damned tree, including my brother’s leg. It was thanks to Hailon that he’d been treated properly and could still walk.
I shook the memory and the guilt of not knowing how they were doing away as Coltor shrugged his large frame into my cabin. Somehow, he took up all the space in the open room. There was no escaping his woodsy scent, or how he somehow used up all the air. He somehow seemed even taller under aroof than he did out in the open. My face warmed as I stared at him, the way his eyes crawled along the little things I’d started collecting since I moved in echoing through my body like he was examining me with similar discernment.
“Where should I…” He lifted his arms, the collection of carvings cradled between them.
“The fireplace is fine for now.” His eyebrows shot up. “On the hearth, not actually in it. I promise I’m not going to use them for kindling,” I reassured him.
I was rewarded with a view of his broad shoulders as he turned and squatted down to do as I asked, lining the little wooden animals up neatly across the stone hearth. He was wearing his hair mostly down for a change instead of braided, the long straight strands from the front pulled away from his face with a leather tie and the rest hanging down his back. As he turned the little wooden creations the way he wanted, I pulled together some food. I organized a plate with bread, cheese and sliced fruit, hoping it was enough to satisfy his hunger. I’d get back to cooking properly one of these days, but between Hailon providing half my meals and my days at the crossroads, this was a much better match for my energy levels lately.
Coltor was glancing over at me as though waiting for an invitation as I set the board of snacks on the dining table. I said nothing, just gently waved a hand toward the food. He ducked his head in polite acceptance, plunking himself down in a chair that was two sizes too small for his body.
“I”—he twisted his fingers together, waiting for me to select what I wanted before he reached for a few things—“owe you an apology.” His eyes flicked to mine, then back to his plate. “Several, most likely.”
I took a slice of bread and spread a thick layer of some herby whipped goat cheese Hailon and I had found in the city on it, letting him stew while I chose my response. “Whatfor?” I wanted to know if he understood exactly what he was apologizing about.
Coltor sighed, setting down the bread he’d taken before ever managing a bite. “Being… me, I suppose.”
“What does that mean?” I frowned at him. I didn’t appreciate his attitude much of the time, but he wasn’t a bad man. It bothered me that he thought poorly of himself.
“I was alone out here for a very long time. Social graces and manners are not my strong suit.”
