Page 36 of Wraithwound

She suspected the wraith might be weak, given the state of her body and because it hadn’t made an appearance when she fought off Vince. All things considered, she might be able to stop in briefly, inquire about the plant Ahgrie had shown her, and start the hunt, if they happened to know anything about it.

Movement caught her attention, and she looked up to see Eduard walking toward her.

“Lena.” Eduard said warmly, a sad expression passing over his features.

She looked down at herself, realizing her appearance must have been ghastly.

“Come, let’s get you inside,” he said.

The warmth in his voice only fueled the guilt she felt that he would welcome her in such a way when she’d disappeared from their lives without warning.

She hesitated, lingering at the splintered trunk, but eventually followed Eduard into the meadow. She’d felt so alone since losing Henry, and after visiting Ahgrie and Jessa, she’d only felt more alone. It was comforting to be with others who had known Henry and spent time with him, especially recently. She felt a deep sense of connection to the man walking in front of her.

Eduard was moving slowly, and Lena found it easy to catch up. Spotting the full-length porch that had been added to the cabin, she realized Ada was sitting outside with a cup of what she knew had to be her personal blend of chamomile, orange, and rose tea.

The worn, wooden steps bore the usual signs of constant use. Her shoulders relaxed as she crossed the threshold of the arched trellises that marked the start of the garden surrounding their home.

Ada’s smile fell as Lena approached.

“What’s happened?” Ada asked softly, her keen eyes searching Lena’s face.

Emotion clogged her throat before she could speak. “They’re all dead, Ada,” Lena whispered.

Ada nodded and reached for Eduard, who came around Lena to stand by his wife.

“I see,” Ada said. “Come, let’s get you inside.”

“Wait, I’m not sure that’s a good idea, I—” She took a step back.

“You need help, and it’s our turn to give it, come,” Ada said, cutting her off.

Lena considered for a moment but eventually relented.

“Tell me what you need,” Ada demanded.

“A place to wash, please,” she said.

Ada waved at Lena to follow and led her through the small cabin. The fireplace cradled a small fire that heated the space perfectly. Nearby were reading chairs that also bore signs of wear, the once luxurious blue fabric faded from where it was exposed to the sun in the late afternoons. Ada had been a tailor long ago, and Lena suspected she’d been the one to select the jewel-toned hue.

A small round table stood at the center of the quaint kitchen, which Eduard veered toward. Lena found herself waiting near their old desk while Ada fetched extra bathing supplies. It was covered with intricate sketches of plants, flowers, scenery, one which featured a woman standing by a tree. On the wall above were a few drawings inside intricately carved frames. One of the frames held a drawing of an older girl who smiled at the artist; while the other held a botanical illustration of a small bud on a vine. To the left of the pictures, a medallion and a yellowed ribbon hung from a thin metal chain. The medallion looked familiar, but Lena couldn’t place it.

“It’s all set up for you, dear. Come.”

Ada pointed toward the washroom. Inside, a folded white towel sat on a stool near the tub, along with a bottle of washing soap. Lavender. Eduard appeared behind her with two, large buckets of hot water to top off the small tub. Ada encouraged Lena to take her time and let her know they’d be waiting on the porch when she was done.

The moment she sunk beneath the warm, scented water, the lump of emotion returned, clogging her throat. She tried not to think about all that happened in Enora and outside of the city where she’d fought for her life in that dusty cell.

But she couldn’t stop her mind from replaying how Henry had looked as he took his last breath in her arms, that and the promise she’d made him. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to keep Henry’s soul alive within her, and she had no idea how she might free it if she did. The truth was that even if she figured out how to stop or control the turn, she might never figure out how to free him.

If she didn’t, it was likely his soul would not be permitted to enter Brilliance when she died and would be deemed an abomination. The Goddess of Eteris favored pure souls and was known for having cursed the wicked man who attacked the maiden long ago.

Even so, all her fears and concerns would cease to matter if the wraith took control again. Lena hadn’t been able to fight it then; deep down, she doubted she’d be able to regain control if it did. The thought frightened her, and she focused instead on scrubbing herself clean, eager to speak with Ada and Eduard and be on her way.

Once she was free of grime, Lena turned her attention to the wraithwound. The skin surrounding the area had healed further and no longer looked infected, while the skin inside the gashes remained grey and leathery with raised scarring on the edges. She could see the black veins that spiderwebbed away from the wounds more clearly; they seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat.

The realization made her skin crawl.

Next, she focused on wrapping her torso, hoping to lessen the ache of her broken ribs. Forgetting about the injuries to her fingers, she tried to run them through her hair and winced. While still tender, the flesh where her nails had once been was slowly hardening into something new. The skin was a darker color, almost like the mottled skin of a bruise, and it pulled slightly when she moved her fingers.