Page 42 of Pretense

As soon as Farrendel entered, Essie’s mother crossed the train car to him. “Essie will be all right, sason.” She opened her arms, as if prepared to give Farrendel a hug, before she halted, eyeing something on Farrendel’s shirt.

Farrendel glanced down at himself. His shirt was soaked with blood.

Essie’s blood.

Essie’s blood on his clothes. On his skin.

He had to get it off. He had to get clean.

His breathing came rasping and fast again. With shaking hands, he tore his shirt over his head and chucked it as far from him as he could. Vaguely, he heard Weylind behind him, offering to show Essie’s macha to her own train car to rest. The door clicked shut.

“I will stay with her, if you would like to clean up first.” Rheva gracefully slid onto the chair next to the bed.

Farrendel raced across the train car and all but flung himself into the train car’s small water closet. He lunged for the spigot, taking three tries to turn it on.

As the scalding water pounded onto his head, streaming down his face, he slid to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. Water soaked his trousers. His boots would likely be ruined, but he did not have the motivation to remove them.

How long he curled on the floor of the shower, he did not know.

But Essie needed him. He had to be strong for her.

Somehow, he got up, washed, and changed into the set of spare clothes he always kept in here. Finally, barefoot, he padded from the water closet.

Rheva glanced up as he entered, giving him a soft smile.

Farrendel crawled onto the other side of the bed, sitting next to Essie and taking her hand. Light and shadow flashed across her face, cast from the trees blurring past outside the windows.

Rheva slid to her feet. “I will let you both rest.”

“Wait.” Farrendel stared down at Essie, watching her chest rise and fall. Through the heart bond, he could feel that she was still weak. He deepened the heart bond, letting her body draw strength from his. He forced himself to glance up at Rheva where she stood, waiting. “Can you check on her one more time?”

He was not sure he could rest either way, but a gnawing deep in his chest needed the extra reassurance that she was, indeed, all right.

“She will be fine, shashon.” Rheva returned to Essie’s side and rested her hand on Essie’s forehead. A green glow surrounded her fingers. After a moment, a wrinkle puckered Rheva’s forehead, and more magic flared around her fingers.

That was not good. “What is it? What is wrong?” Farrendel tightened his grip on Essie’s hand.

Rheva gave Farrendel a soft smile before she lifted her hand from Essie. “She is fine. It would be better if I told both of you at the same time.”

What did that mean? Everything was tunneling again, his head buzzing. “Do not lie to me. What is it? Did you find something wrong? Is she dying?”

There were things even the elves could not heal. Farrendel’s grandfather had died of one of those diseases. What if Rheva had discovered something like that?

“Farrendel, shashon.” Rheva rested a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her. “She will be fine.”

“Rheva…please…” Farrendel could not take anything else today. He was empty, his control slipping through his fingers. He had to know before the terror of not knowing destroyed him from the inside out.

The wrinkle to Rheva’s forehead returned, and she touched Farrendel’s cheek, easing her magic into him. “Perhaps it would be best if I told you now. Then you can work through your panic so that you will be there with Essie later.”

What was Rheva talking about? His head was too muddled for all these riddles.

“She is not dying.” Rheva’s gentle smile lifted into something brighter. “She is expecting.”

Farrendel blinked, his head still muddy. “Expecting what?”

Rheva made a sound between a laugh and a sigh. “She is not expecting kittens, shashon. A baby.”

For a long moment, Farrendel could only stare at Rheva, his brain and body frozen. “What…how…no, do not answer that. I know how. But…” He squeezed his eyes shut. He needed his mind to function. To process. He gripped his knees with his free arm, Essie’s hand still clutched in the other, and tried to breathe. “Are you sure?”

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