Page 10 of Court of Shadows
The meat in front of me was the only thing I could smell, pungent and unappetizing. The odor reminded me of worms, gray and watery. A knife large enough to be a cleaver was stuck into the haunch, down all the way to the bone. I picked up a small fork from the table, one that did not look at all equal to the task of tackling this monstrous leg.
My stomach growled. Something compelled me to eat, though the thought of chewing even a single bite made my guts roil. I carved a piece from the leg, the meat flabby and limp. The carving sent a twinge through me, and while I put the meat in my mouth I felt a tear slip down my cheek. What was the matter with me? I chewed and it tasted horrid, just on the near side of rancid. I sliced at the leg again and a burst of pain exploded from my own leg.
The chewed meat stuck in my throat. There was no tea to help me gulp down the awful stuff. I couldn’t stop the tears anymore, and my face grew wet as I tried to force another bitedown. No, I could not go on.... It hurt too much and tasted too sickly. I cried and looked around the kitchens for help, freezing as I noticed the walls had disappeared. Where was I? What was this? The walls had become trees, gnarled and black, though they shifted, unreliable, as if dozens of figures moved among the branches. Eyes glowed from every direction, watching me.
The pain in my leg was too much then. I pushed away from the table and tried to stand up, deciding it was better to flee. At once, I tumbled to the floor, crying out as I looked down and saw that my right leg was missing from the knee down. Gone... It was...
The meat I had forced down came back up and I retched, weeping, floundering on the floor. The leg was not normal. It was too familiar, too sleek.... My own. I had eaten my own flesh. And now I was choking, dying, helpless and scrambling across the floor.
Suddenly, from the mass of twisted trees all around me, a single figure came forward, eyes blazing like coals. It wore a crown of antlers and it spoke with a voice like thunder.
“Wake up,” it said, reaching to help me up. “Slumber no more.”
The world, the real world, slammed back into place with a scream. My own. I almost flew out from under the blankets, frantically pushing them down around my legs until I could verify that my leg was still there. A dream. No, anightmare. I wiped at my face, finding it slick with perspiration and tears.An instant later the door burst open and I shrieked again, then sighed and flopped down to the tick.
It was Poppy, eyes wide with shock, and she vaulted onto the bed beside me, placing a small, cool hand on my forehead.
“Are you well? Is that a fever? Oh, Louisa, you do not look good, not even a little bit!”
“That’s very kind, Poppy,” I muttered, closing my eyes.
“I would send Bartholomew to nurse you but he is very sleepy right now. He refuses to wake unless there is meat to be had!”
“Please,” I whispered. “Please... no talk of meat just now.”
“Should I fetch Mrs. Haylam?” she asked, frowning and sticking her little elfin face right up to my nose. “You really are amazingly sweaty, Louisa.”
“Just an unpleasant dream,” I told her with a thin smile. “I’m sure I will recover my wits shortly.”
“Oooh,” Poppy gasped, leaning back on her knees and then twirling one pigtail around her finger thoughtfully. “Do you know, I have had many strange dreams, too! They are not all bad. Sometimes I am a fat little bird screaming into the wind on a boat. I like those ones. But some of my dreams have been distressing. Mrs. Haylam says there are dark things lurking at Coldthistle these days and that we must, must, must protect each other.”
Pushing myself up onto my elbows, I rested back against the pillows and nodded. “Chijioke said something similar. The Upworlders don’t seem that bad.”
Her eyes went wide again and she shoved a finger into my face, wagging it back and forth. “Shush! Shooosh, Louisa! Nobody must hear you say that. I will not repeat it but you must promise not to say that again. Mr. Morningside would be ever so cross if he heard you speak that way.”
“Why?” I shooed her hand out of my face gently and fixed the blankets over my lap. Outside, I heard the familiar and comforting sound of the birds calling to one another as dawn broke. “What’s this Court business about? It was such a big secret and now it’s all anybody can talk about.”
Poppy shrugged and let go of her pigtail; then she hopped off the bed and began rummaging in my chest of drawers, pulling out my usual housemaid attire and stacking it on the bed. “It is all new to me, too, Louisa, but Mrs. Haylam says the nasty Upworlders will be coming with the shepherd and his dumb daughter. They will all sit in the tent outside and decide if Mr. Morningside is too stupid to go on.”
“Too stupid to...” I had to laugh, pressing a knuckle to my lips. “Well, that will certainly be a lively debate. But come now, it must be more serious than that. Is he really in trouble?”
She nodded emphatically, braids swinging, and fetched my boots from across the room. “That mean George Bremerton got too close to hurting Mr. Morningside. There could be more like him coming, and I think that’s what everyone wants to argue about, what to do with those folk what want to hurt Mr. Morningside.”
That made just a smidge more sense. “I see. That does sound troublesome.... What will happen if they decide he’s, um, too stupid to go on?”
“I don’t rightly know, Louisa, nobody does,” she said sensibly, finishing her work and standing next to the bed with her hands crossed in front of her waist. “I only know that I don’t like when the shepherd and his angels come. They eat everything in sight and make my tummy hurt. You must promise not to like them with me.”
“Very well,” I said, crawling out of bed. She had done such a neat job of gathering my clothes, I did not want to disappoint her with hesitation. “I promise not to like them, but only if they give me a reason. I did not like all of you at first, remember?”
Poppy chewed her lip, swaying back and forth as she considered my question. “I think that is fair.” She dug in her own apron pocket, her small fist emerging with a folded piece of paper. “Louisa, what is this?”
The letter. She must have found it in my apron as she gathered up my garments.
“Just... nothing important. It’s a letter I meant to read yesterday.” The day had gone by in a blur, first with meeting Mr. Morningside, then being ambushed by Lee and the arrival of the Upworlders. My chest felt funny and hot as I looked at the folded parchment. Could it really be from my father? Myrealfather? And how the devil was I supposed to read it?
“Oh, well, you must not forget again,” she said, tucking itback into my apron, where she had most likely found it. “But you cannot read it now, Louisa, there is no time at all to waste. I will help with your laces and give you a nice braid, but then we mustn’t tarry. Mrs. Haylam wants to see all of us, and she is in a cross mood. I think the angels make her tummy hurt, too.”
Though I had been at Coldthistle House for only about seven months, it was the first time Mrs. Haylam had called us all together.
