Charlotte bit her lip. She didn’t know what to do, either, certainly not about finding either Arthur or Maggie, or the Lord of the Wood, for that matter. She knew she ought to comfort Elspeth, but she didn’t know how to go about it. Comforting anyone older than her children always seemed impossible. In medical scenarios, she was more likely to provide a sense of calm and surety than comfort, unless there was good news—but then it wasn’t her, was it, but the news itself that was comforting.
Well, if she could only offer a sense of calm and surety, that was what she’d do.
“We wait,” she said firmly. “You said it looks like someone was here within the last couple of days. It must be the Lord of the Wood who lives here—this is the only place we’ve been where the trees aren’t infected. Perhaps that—whatever it is—” with a nod at the tangle of greenery “—is his pet.”
She longed to sit beside Elspeth, but if she sat on the floor she wouldn’t be able to get up.
“I think we’re safe here. We can catch our breath, rest for a couple of days. The Lord of the Wood has to come back sometime. We’ll give it a day or two. If he’s not back by then, we’ll consider our options.”
Elspeth ran a hand through her hair. Strands came loosefrom her braid, falling messily around her face. “Guess a rest’d not be so bad.”
“Of course not. It’ll give us time to recover from... from whatever happened back there,” Charlotte said, unwilling to mention the trees, “and I can keep an eye on your symptoms, and the animals can have a rest, too.”
Swearing, Elspeth rocketed to her feet and stalked out, probably to take care of the horse and mule. They’d left the creatures tethered to the gig outside.
The room warmed with the fire flickering in the stove. Charlotte sank deeper into her armchair, grateful for a break from the gig and its jolts, the forest and its dangers. The plant creature crept into her lap and sprawled across it like a cat, leaving blackened vines and fronds on the floor behind it. New anatomy grew from it, green and fresh.
Charlotte stroked a tendril, her mind drifting back to her brother’s tools. Her head dropped into her hands. It was better than what Elspeth had; Charlotte hadsomeproof Arthur had been here, alive and safe.
Her eyes stung anyway. She couldn’t stop thinking how close she might have come to finding him here. How close he might have been to coming home when she left.
Elspeth stumbled back inside in a whirl of cold.
“Snowing like anything,” she grunted, kicking her boots off. Her teeth chattered. Finding a lone fur hanging on a hook by the door, she tugged it on over her cloak. “Couldn’t find a shed or anywhere to put the animals, but around the side of the house was more sheltered, so I guess that’ll have to do.”
Charlotte didn’t respond. She’d meant to boil water for tea and dig her painkillers from her medical kit, but, as usual, she’d waited too long to take care of herself. Now she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in the chair, if she could, with the pleasant weight of the plant creature in her lap. But herthoughts kept cycling between how recently Arthur must have been here, what might have happened to him by now, and the terrible echo of his voice in the trees. Her head and joints ached so badly she couldn’t have fallen asleep anyway.
“All right, Lottie?”
Charlotte pressed her palms to her eyes. “It’s this weather. It’s wreaking havoc on me.”
“Had you in its grips all day, hasn’t it?” Elspeth considered her. “You was all kinds of quiet this morning. Pain, was it?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you take anything for it?”
Charlotte didn’t answer. Because they’d been traveling, and she hadn’t wanted to stop just to find her painkillers, let alone long enough to light a fire for tea. Because she’d been too busy fighting her brain, considering ways to administer silver acorns to infected plant matter, so caught up in treating the sickness that her own pain had gone untreated.
Because she felt like she ought to be able to handle the pain, push through it, even though that was, frankly, a ridiculous and unrealistic expectation.
Shaking her head, Elspeth brought Charlotte her medical kit. “You got something in here for it, I trust. You best take it before you feel any worse.”
Charlotte dug two tablets from her kit and downed them.
Elspeth nodded, satisfied. “Good girl.”
Charlotte flushed without quite knowing why. She cleared her throat. “I have a tea in here that can help, too, and it might warm you up. Boil some water, won’t you?”
Elspeth did so. While the water boiled, she swept up the blackened plant matter the creature had left on the floor and threw it into the fire.
By the time the tea was ready, the tablets had softened the edges of Charlotte’s headache. She picked at the leftover stewElspeth had found in the icebox, aware she needed to eat but unequal to it.Better than nothing, she told herself, and imagined Elspeth telling hergood girlfor each spoonful she managed to swallow. Then she stopped imagining it, because doing so made her flush again.
Out the windows, snow swirled thick and white. But the armchairs were comfortable and the stew was delicious and the air had warmed and the tea had lessened the ache in Charlotte’s joints, though the spot above her left eye jabbed at her periodically. In her lap, the plant creature hummed, apparently asleep. Wrapped in the cloak and fur, with her hands around a second mug of tea, Elspeth had stopped shivering so much.
It wasn’t home, but all things considered, it wasn’t terrible.
“Getting late.” Elspeth got up to wash the supper things. “You can take the bed. I’m gonna sit up anyhow. Think about things.”
