Page 81 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood
“How did you find me?”I got near the edge of the woods? But how? I had just fallen into the heart of the forest when I stumbled across the spider. My thoughts return to that thick web and its tragic inhabitants. Flashes of it have my hand involuntarily flexing at my side. The tenderness makes me flinch. I raise it, inspecting the misshapen fingers. They look completely normal.
“That hand of yours was in bad shape. We reset your fingers and peeled off the remaining pieces of webbing. You may be sore, but should be able to use it fully in a few days.”
“What were you thinking grabbing onto that web?” the young one asks.
“It was an accident. I was just trying to find my way—” A cough racks through me. I throw my hand over my mouth, catching the spill of blood.
“A tincture for her lungs!” one man calls out. Several scurry off. “Lie back, miss. You need rest.”
A miniature mug of something warm and herbal is pressed into my hand. I sip it, breathing a sigh of relief as it soothes my throat. So much screaming. I’m raw. I lift the mug to my lips again and halt. “Wait, you never said how you found me.”
“We mine rare gems that can only be found in the caves of the dark forest.” He gestures to a barrel in the corner. Its contents are overflowing. Vibrant jewels in cobalt blues, grapefruit pinks, sunflower yellows, and jammy purples spill over and onto the floor.
“They’re beautiful.”
“We trek through the dark forest every morning and each evening. On our journey home, we found you, out cold and in quite a state.”
“Swiss cheese?” I peer over at the curious little man who’s snuck quietly to the head of my bed. It’s the first time he’s spoken. I don’t see any cheese.
“Not right now,” one chides. He pats my leg through the comforter. “Try to get some rest.”
As if activated by his words, a yawn rolls out. I just need to close my eyes for a minute. Tiny voices whisper around me. With hardly a moment’s thought, I drift into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 25
Lenore
The loud banging of a metal pan jolts me awake. I sit up, clutching the covers.
“Darn it, Nim. I told you to be quiet.”
The smaller gnome peers up at me bashfully. “Sorry, dropped me pan.”
The group is lined up near the door. Each is dressed and holding tools. They carry sacks on their backs, some tied with pots and pans, others completely empty.
“You’re leaving?” The idea of being alone terrifies me. I don’t even know exactly where I am. If I run from here, I’m certain to get lost. “What if something finds me in this place while you’re gone?”
“Don’t worry, miss. We charmed the door. Nothing gets in while we’re out. It won’t open until we’re back.”
Uneasiness swims in my gut. “Alright.”
The small men file out. I jump when they slam the door behind them. The cottage becomes eerily silent the moment they’re gone.
Pain twinges in my chest and a cough sprays red droplets on the back of my hand. I should have asked for another tincture before they left. The fit ceases and I inhale deeply. The putrid scent of rotting meat hits me again. Where the hell is that coming from?
I take a minute to survey the cottage, giving it a more scrutinizing look than I did when I first woke up. Everything is situated in one main room. A room that’s quite filthy. I guess even amongst magical species, men aren’t known for their tidiness.
Seven tiny beds line the wall to my left. It makes me wonder why they even have the full-sized bed I woke up in. The farthest wall of the little cottage houses the kitchen sink and stove. Dirty dishes sit piled two feet high in the basin. That could explain the smell.
I suppose I can make myself useful while I’m here. I’ve never washed dishes, but I did have a play kitchen when I was a child. Padding to the sink, I search for something to wash with. A dingy-looking rag and a bar of white soap are my best options.
“These are probably used for cleaning dishes,” I assure myself.
Even if I’m wrong, a bar of soap can’t hurt. The plates and utensils are filthy. How long have these been sitting here?
Rolling my sleeves up, I set to the task at hand. My fingers are still sore, but by some magic, they’re mostly healed. Maybe it’s from actual magic. How did they manage to mend my bones? I’m certain they were broken. Another involuntary shudder moves through me as I remember the way my fingers looked jutting out in all directions. Yes, they were definitely broken. Iwonder if the gnomes would be willing to share their magic. This kind of power is far beyond what our healers are capable of.
Washing dishes is a more challenging task than I anticipated. The fatty food is caked on. Even when I manage to remove the largest chunks, a greasy film remains. Is it always this hard to do the dishes? I’m surprised our kitchen staff back home doesn’t have biceps as large as our guards.
