Molly (4 page)

Molly took a deep breath and then nodded, shaking her skirts out but not daring to bend over to straighten them properly. The redhead offered her a tonic but she waved it away. She took a deep breath and indicated she was ready.

The redhead looked skeptical. But before she had a chance to say anything, her head cocked a fraction and she went still. The action reminded Molly oddly of a dog. And then the redhead’s posture changed suddenly, and it only added to the effect.

It caused Molly to recall her pup and she glanced down to find him at her skirts, sniffing what she hoped was only earth.

She didn’t feel like carrying him, but the redhead had scooped him up, pushed him into the pouch, and slung it over Molly’s shoulder before she had any opportunity to protest. Shortly, she was being pressed quite forcibly out of the trees and into the clearing where they had camped.

Instantly, Molly knew something was wrong. The clearing was silent as Cheerful and Wiry stood near the center, backs to her. They were standing in front of the dark-haired woman, protecting her. The woman stared on between them and Molly’s gaze followed.

Her heart skipped as she saw a cloaked figure in the distance with Not Cheerful.
Asher
, she thought,
come for me
. Her knees gave a fraction but she caught herself. The redhead didn’t seem to notice, only holding her firm grip on Molly’s arm.

And then the cloaked figure turned and Molly could see golden curls from under the hood. It was a woman. Not Asher.

She felt sick. Her hand automatically fell to her stomach. He had not come for her, for his child.

The newcomer’s head flicked toward Molly then, her eyes hard. Molly stared on and could see the dark-haired woman between them turn to look at what had the newcomer’s attention. There was confusion in her gaze, and then Molly heard a low voice, a muttered curse, she thought, before the woman’s eyes unfocused and rolled back into her head.

Molly was still watching the woman as she fell back and was caught by the two that protected her, when the cloaked figure appeared before her, speaking two more words and sending Molly into blackness.

She was confident she’d been out for days when she finally came to. Her limbs were weak, her mouth parched, her stomach hollow...

Molly jerked upright despite the fatigue, her hand instinctively finding her stomach.

“There, there,” a soothing voice purred from beside her. She jumped and cursed, curving her arm protectively around her middle. “No harm will come to you, child,” the woman assured her.

Molly stared, working to clear the muddle of her mind. The woman waited patiently as Molly took in her surroundings, the small room with makeshift cot, blankets, supplies, food, all doing their part to calm her. She took a deep breath and continued to scan, her eyes finally focusing on the woman, falling over her light cloth pants, her deep brown shirt, narrowing on the golden wisps that fell around her face.

Molly took stock. She guessed she wasn’t hurt, only ill as she had been before the incident. But she was pissed. Her mouth opened to hurl accusations at her captor, but before she could speak, a sharp pain sliced through her side.

She cried out, clutching a hand to the source. The woman reached toward her and Molly wrenched away.

“It is not I who cause you this pain,” she said, indicating Molly’s stomach.

Molly could not respond, only breathe through clenched teeth as she waited for it to pass. The woman tried again, but Molly didn’t fight her.

The woman looked doubtful. There was a slight twist to the corner of her mouth but Molly couldn’t tell if she was mocking her. She had a gorgeous smirk, if that was what it was. Her lips were the same flushed pink as her cheeks and her eyes seemed to sparkle. Like shattered glass in the sun. Like light catching ripples in water...

Molly was suddenly embarrassed. “You’re just how they described them is all. And you’re so different than the others. And, well, I’ve never met one, so how would I know?” she huffed.

Juniper’s smile faded. “Yes.” She was silent for a moment, and then recalled herself. She'd never get what she needed like this. She forced a mild smile. “Ahh, but dear, I saw you with the fire fairy.”

Molly stared at her blankly. A fire fairy? She recalled the illustrations from her books, remembered the descriptions of the wicked red ones, the flicker of the flames. The redhead. How could she have been so oblivious?

“Dark, of the North.” She could see the question in Molly’s eyes. “You should be glad I have taken you. They would have disposed of you.”

Molly nodded absently. She’d expected as much. But now it seemed she was further from Asher, for he was Lord of the North. “And what will you do with me?” she asked.

“Help you,” Juniper answered.

The days turned to weeks and Juniper did help her. But there was only so much to be done, and Molly’s condition deteriorated quickly. Molly had seen women ill while carrying before, she had helped with some of the villagers when needed. She knew this was not such an illness. This was something else. Something was wrong.

She had been suffering from tremors, plagued with strange sensations, once as if she were floating, occasionally as if she were afire. Juniper had eased the pains for the most part, but these odd impressions were unsettling. And they were getting worse.

Juniper had stopped leaving her alone, though. At first, she’d depart for one or two days, leaving Molly with supplies and powders, tonics and instructions. It had taken Molly a few weeks to realize the trips would come after questions of her travels, details of her captors, particulars of surroundings she’d remembered.

But she hadn’t gone lately. Molly couldn’t be sure whether it was because of her state, or because Juniper had accepted that Molly had no idea where to find Asher. It couldn’t be called trust, the bond she had developed with Juniper, but she had no other option but to rely on the woman. Molly knew there was more, so much that she did not understand, but she had to stay alive for Asher. For her son.

Molly felt her head shaking.
No, no, no
. This was wrong. It shouldn’t be like this. Something was wrong. Fire and razors tore through her midsection, her hands went numb. Panic-stricken, she looked to Juniper.

But you will not
.

Pain ripped through Molly, her body convulsed, and then she was granted one moment of reprieve to gasp for air. She was suddenly soaked with sweat and began to shudder violently before the cold turned back to fire. Every inch of skin was ablaze, every hair a needle, every breath an ache so severe to not breathe would have been relief. But she could not give.

She forced each breath, thankful for the pain. The pain meant she had not surrendered.

Her chest rose from the cot in a spasm and then she fell back, grinding and twisting uncontrollably against the torture. Tears flowed from her eyes and her mouth tasted of copper. Her fingers clutched at the blanket beneath her, searching for purchase, something to pull herself up.

Juniper pressed her back. “Be still, child, be still,” she murmured.

Molly convulsed again, gagged, and then bore down as the knife pain cut through her once more.

He’s not coming
, she thought.
He’s not coming and it will be too late
.

Her hands found her midsection and she pulled air through her nose, biting down on the agony to force words through clenched teeth. “You have to find him.”

Juniper stared down at her.
His favorite
. How long had this been going on? How many more were there?

Mother save you, Freya
, she thought,
there will be an army of them
.

###

Please look for book three in the Frey Saga, to be released 2012

Melissa Wright