The bear turned to us, snorting in confusion, but before anyone could say another word, the wagon rocked and a strangled, female voice cried out from inside.
“Larch? Larch!Open this fucking door now!”
Larch went completely still, his eyes wide and horrified, then he roared, “Open it!”
Jon whirled and swiped his massive paw at the padlock, then wrenched the door wide open. A blur of brown and white shot out of the box, knocking Larch clean off his hooves.
“Gods, Cee, is that really you?” he cried. They fell into the dirt together, laughing and kissing each other’s faces. With a harsh cry, Larch wrapped his arms around Celia’s back, burying his face in her matted hair and holding her like he might never let go.
As much as I wanted to be happy for them, I exchanged a look with Devil, who raised his bow and came to stand beside me. The box’s interior was dark and dank, with filthy straw spilling out, and the rest of the people inside were not nearly as happy to see us. Several of them screamed when he produced an orb of light and let it float in above their heads. But then, I heard my own name.
“Miss May?” A tall man unfolded himself from where he was crouched, and lumbered between the other prisoners to step outside.
“Quince!” I cried, hands flying to my mouth. “Mercy, what are you doing here?”
He collapsed beside the wagon, dropping his head into his hands, and I fell to my knees in front of him. “They killed her,” he sobbed. “They fucking killed her, May!”
My heart sank, because I knew there was only one person he could be talking about, and I whispered her name. “Lidy…”
“Yes,” he groaned, his broad shoulders shaking. “It was my fault! My fault…”
“Oh, Quince, I’m sure it wasn’t,” I murmured, putting a hand on his back while tears filled my eyes.
“What is this…” Devil said under his breath, turning back to the wagon. Larch had ordered Jon to move away and was calling the other prisoners to step out. They were terrified, filthy, starving, and appeared to have almost nothing in common between them—a mix of men and women, all ages, even two small children, all colors, and all walks of life too. Several wore the ragged remains of fine clothing, and it was one of these women who pointed back into the wagon as she stepped down.
“I can’t get the poor thing to move,” she squeaked. “Blind drunk…and she tried to bite me…”
I stood up and went to peer inside as Devil’s orb floated to the back of the prison wagon. Lying completely still on the straw, wearing a taffeta gown that might have once been vibrant pink, was Lady Helena.
Chapter forty-one
Traps & Trade-Offs
“Oh,sweet gods above,” Jon muttered. As Helena pulled herself into a sitting position, she cried out in pain and clutched at her side. Acting on instinct, I ducked into the wagon and knelt beside her in the dirty straw.
“Who’re you?” she slurred, squinting up at me and wiping fresh vomit off the side of her face.
“I’m a friend,” I said gently. Behind me, Jon and Devil let out twin snorts, and I glared at them before turning back to Helena. “I’m Will’s friend…Marina. Do you remember me?”
“Marina…” she muttered. “The Abbey girl?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, you had him wrapped around your finger foryears, didn’t you?” She let out a hoarse cackle, then gasped and put a hand on her side again. The rest of her words came out between labored breaths. “Well…you can…have him now. He’s…allyours! Happy?”
“Your ribs are injured,” I said, keeping my voice level. “I can help, if you’ll let me.”
I put my hands out, but Helena eyed me suspiciously, her gaze flickering over my now-pointed ears. “Fine,” she said at last, releasing a long breath and moving her arm. “I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”
I settled my hands on either side of her stained, pink bodice and called out my healing magyk. Knitting together the faint cracks in three of her ribs took me several minutes. Helena remained still and silent the entire time, except for her ragged, wheezing breaths. After finishing the last rib, I pushed my magyk out intothe rest of her body, searching for anything else I could fix, but she flinched away from me, breaking the contact.
“What are you doing?” she snarled. “It’s just the ribs, so you can leave the rest of me alone, thanks very much!” Before I could even apologize, she hauled herself to her feet and staggered to the door of the wagon, but nearly fell out when she tried to exit. I followed her and fought down the horror rising in my chest when I saw her out in the sunlight. She looked absolutely frightful—her dress disgusting and torn, kohl smeared across her face with the vomit, long golden hair matted with straw and other unmentionable things.
“Helena, what are you doing here?” I asked as she stuck a hand down the front of her bodice and produced a flask from between her substantial breasts. She unscrewed the lid and took a long drink, then sighed with relief and tucked it away again.
“Mydearestfather thought I would make a good sacrifice to the Arden, I suppose. Having lost my maidenhood long ago, and now my mind, I’m of no further use to him.” She let out a wild laugh and spun her fingers around at her own temples.
“We have to send her back,” Devil said immediately. “She can’t stay here.”
