Suddenly Elva lets out a sharp gasp. Her eyes fly open for little more than a second and I stagger back against the wall, a small shriek fighting to escape from my mouth. Because in that moment, unmistakable in the thick gloom surrounding us, Elva’s eyes gleamed the brightest amber. In that moment, her eyes had glowed in the dark.
‘Whatwasthat?’ I whisper.
Hal is breathing heavily, staring down at her. ‘What – what just happened?’
Fox looks neither shocked nor scared. He places a light hand on his brother’s arm. ‘Haldyn,’ he says evenly. ‘Let me help her.’
Something seems to spark to life inside of Hal. ‘Let’s go,’ he says.
Fox gets to his feet. ‘We’ll take the serf tunnels. Can you carry her?’
Hal nods, scooping Elva up and cradling her to his chest.
‘That blanket, Storm Weaver, if you’d be so kind,’ says Fox mildly, striding forward to open the door.
He leads the way through the serf tunnels, brandishing a flaming torch he plucked from a bracket on the wall. Halfollows him, holding Elva tightly, as though she might fall apart in his arms.
I can’t think about Hal right now. I can’t think about the fact that he has been using me. And I can’t think about the fact that I fell for it. Forhim.
Up ahead, Fox comes to a stop. I watch in the flickering light as he reaches out and twists something on what seems to be a solid wall, which immediately swings open to reveal a room. The space is large, with a remarkably high ceiling, sloping walls and a strange, spongy floor. My nose is filled with the scent of pine and fresh mint.
Fox leads us inside. ‘Some light perhaps, brother?’
Hal squeezes his eyes shut and a moment later the room is lit by a warm glow.
I can’t help but gasp, for we are standing in what appears to be a garden. No, not quite – it’s not as orderly as a garden. It’s wilder, untamed.
Vines snake along the walls, long and thick like rope, sharing the space with a multitude of climbing plants. There’s ivy, lots of it, and honeysuckle, its pale petals slowly unfurling in the light. The floor is a carpet of soft grass and wildflowers, hundreds of them, the colours vivid and beautiful, too many to count. In the centre of the room, stretching all the way up to the ceiling, is a gigantic tree. The branches are long and sweeping, the leaves as green as the eyes of the boy who places a gentle hand on the small of my back while he closes the door behind me. Something else about the tree catches my attention. I look closer. What appears to be a bed is positioned around halfway up the trunk, a large mattress tucked into the space where severalbranches have been entwined to resemble what looks like two cupped hands. There is no bedframe, only a mass of pillows and sheets.
Through one door at the far side of the room is a bathing room, its floor made from gleaming emerald. There is another door too, slightly closer to where we’re standing, but it’s closed, seemingly locked.
‘Wherearewe?’ I breathe.
‘My rooms,’ Fox says simply.
I take a moment to acknowledge how perfectly insane this is, that I am here, in the Earth Cleaver’s strange jungle of a bedchamber. Oh, and we’re joined by none other than the Crown Prince of Ostacre and my unconscious serf, who just so happens to have been conducting some secret relationship for months right under my nose.
Fox pulls a small silver key out of his pocket and unlocks the nearby door, and I step inside, mouth falling open as I take in the room beyond. In the centre sits a high wooden table littered with dried plants, powders, potions, potted herbs and strange curling stems. As for the walls, I can’t even see them for the shelves, each one crammed with an assortment of glass vials of all different shapes and sizes, tinted green and neatly labelled.
Fox is looking at me, studying my reaction as he clears the countertop and gestures for Hal to lay Elva down.
‘So … so you’re aphysician?’ My tone is light with disbelief.
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t like to think of myself as a physician. Physicians are cautious creatures, always relying on tried and tested methods and medicines. Their servicesare bought by coin. They are selective about who they treat. No, I’m no physician.’
‘Then what is all this?’ I ask. ‘What are you?’
A faint smile flits across Fox’s face. ‘I’m a Healer,’ he says.
Cleaver. Slaver. Hunter.Healer.
I’m stunned into silence just as Hal finds his voice. ‘You have to help her, Fox. You have to do something –’
‘You found her like this?’ Fox interjects, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing strong forearms, their golden skin weather-beaten and flecked with a series of small scars.
‘Yes, I knocked and I waited but she didn’t answer, so I went inside and that’s when I found her lying on the ground, and I thought – I thought –’ Hal takes a long, shuddering breath, leaning heavily on the table.
‘Here.’ Fox hands him a small green vial. ‘Take this. It’ll help with the shock.’
