Page 106 of Into the Heartless Wood
I sink onto the cushioned stool, tugging at the collar of the dress.
I breathe slowly, in and out, eyeing the fire with distaste.
I shut my eyes and reach out for the threads of Owen’s soul—I will be easier when I know exactly where he is.
But I feel nothing, because I am human now.
I do not have the power of my monstrous body.
Heledd is back the next moment, with horrible black shoes she makes me put on, no matter how much I tell her they hurt.
She says dismissively: “You’ll get used to them. Now follow me. You’re needed in the laundry this morning.”
She beckons me through the door.
I step into a narrow corridor in the Soul Eater’s palace.
Heledd leads me down the hall. “What did you say your name was?”
I have thought of this. I cannot call myself Seren—Owen cannot know I am here.
So I give her another word he taught me instead.
“My name is Bedwyn.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
OWEN
“YOU AGAIN,” SIGHS THE NURSE IN THE MEDICAL TENT. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” She spreads healing salve on my shoulders, but even her gentle fingers exacerbate the pain of the lash marks. My whole back feels like it’s on fire—I had to be carried in here. “What did you do, anyway?”
“Snuck into the palace,” I mutter into the cushion of the healer’s bed. My throat is raw from screaming. “Got caught.” And I’m no closer to Awela than before.
She laughs a little, but not at all unkindly, finishing with the salve and unwinding a length of white bandage. She wraps it carefully over one shoulder, across my chest, then crosses it in an X and does the other shoulder. “Why were you sneaking around the palace?”
I focus on breathing. “Looking for my sister.” Awela’s absence pinches at my insides. I haven’t eventriedto see my father.
“I hope they put you on kitchen duty tomorrow,” she grumbles. “It’s not like you can attend any of your training sessionsnow.” She ties off the bandage and helps me ease into a sitting position.
I duck my head to hide the tear stains streaking my face.
“Nothing to be ashamed of.” She smiles and taps my nose. “I have literally seen it all. Now. Whatdothey have you doing tomorrow?”
“I’m on stable duty.”
She rolls her eyes. “Not very efficient of them, but good luck to you.” She presses a steaming mug into my hands, and I sip slowly. The tea is bitter, and I make a face.
“Willow bark,” she says, “for the pain. Get some rest, now. I’ll change your bandages in the morning. You’ll feel a little better, then.” She kisses my forehead like I’m her child, and helps me lie back down again.
I sleep fitfully in the healer’s tent, unused to the shadows and noises. The healer wakes me in the morning, changes my bandages, and apologetically helps me to my feet. She hands me a packet of more willow bark. “Chew some if the pain gets too bad. Come again this evening for fresh bandages. If it were up to me, you’d stay.”
I thank her and shuffle from the tent. Every step sends shooting pain up and down my back, but I make my stiff, slow way to the stables, where I am given a pitchfork and shovel and instructed to muck twelve stalls.
In my current condition, the work is agonizing. Blood and sweat seep through my bandages. Blisters begin to form on my hands. I chew strips of willow bark until the bitterness overwhelms me and I spit them out again.
I’ve only gotten through one stall when there’s a step behind me, a light voice calling my name.
I turn to find Bedwyn there, holding a tray of food. Strands of pale gold hair slip out from underneath her maid’s cap, curling slightly on her neck. Her eyes are green, I note, with flecks of sliver.
