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Authors: Wendy Knight

The Spark of a Feudling (17 page)

BOOK: The Spark of a Feudling
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****

Ada did not see her father for weeks, after that. He did not emerge from his study. All his meals were taken to him and he had no interest in training with her. Which meant he also had no interest in Charity or Christian. The free time was nearly overwhelming, only broken by her mother's attempts to drag her into wedding plans.

“I will not even see William before the wedding. I will be marrying an almost complete stranger.”

“A stranger who makes you laugh,” Charity said, twisting Ada's long black and red curls into knots and weaves. Ada watched in the mirror. When they'd returned from London, Charity had steadily grown more pale and more withdrawn. But the last week or so, her color had finally been returning. Well, as much color as Charity ever had.

“My mother says she cannot heal me because I have a disease that makes my body attack itself,” Charity said abruptly. Ada blinked, surprised once again when Charity's gift randomly manifested. “She says the sun does it.”

“Then we shall live in darkness,” Ada said firmly and Charity laughed.

“You are a sorceress, not a demon, dear friend. We shall not live in darkness, we shall take necessary precautions and be sensible about the whole thing.”

When Ada made a face at her, she tugged on the strands in her hands. “Do not pull that face at me, young lady,” she said sternly.

“I'm older than you.”

“I'm taller. That's all that counts.”

Vivian swept into the room, arms placed out just so, head held like she was meeting the queen. “I couldn't help but overhear, darling. I do believe a visit to your betrothed is in order.”

Ada jerked her head toward her mother, ruining all Charity's hard work. “What do you—what? We can't just go uninvited!”

“I will send them a missive. We will go next week.” Vivian clapped her hands together, peering over her fingers at Ada. Her eyes sparkled like this was the best idea ever had in the history of the world.

Ada sighed. When would she learn to keep her mouth shut?

****

A week later found them rolling away from the manor for a visit with their neighbors. She sent Christian in the opposite direction, to a battle with Davis and Harrison near the coast. That way, her father couldn't get to him if he did decide to emerge from his study, and Christian couldn't get to William.

Sadly amusing, that sending him to battle was safer than leaving him at home.

She knew a Carules's blue flames would make him a target, which meant he'd have to fight harder to stay alive. She also knew that was when he was happiest, and the most at peace. Add that to his amazing power, and he would be just fine. Physically, at least. Her mind strayed to the conversation they'd had the night before as they wandered through the darkened courtyard. She still escorted him home, although it wasn't needed now. Now that he was protecting the duke, he had the rest of the guards' grudging respect.

“You are too beautiful for him, you know,” Christian said abruptly.

Ada laughed. “I did not see that one coming.”

Christian scowled, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, the way they'd practiced when his angry flames threatened. “His face is round. He's… jolly!”

Ada laughed harder. “And jolly is such a bad thing?” she gasped between fits of giggles.

Christian plucked a leaf off the tree they ducked under, tearing it to shreds. “Yes. Jolly is not enough for how beautiful you are.”

She smiled, reaching for his restless hands that fought the flames so hard. “You are very kind to me, Christian.”

It was not what she had wanted to say. She'd wanted to tell him she loved him, that she would always love him. Forever. Always.

But she couldn't. She was marrying someone else, just as they'd known she would, and she would live miserably for the rest of her life.

“It will not be so bad,” Charity said, reaching from the seat across from Ada's and taking her hand. Even in gloves, Ada could feel the iciness on her skin.

“Do you promise?”

Charity raised a silver eyebrow. “That is entirely up to you. We may not be able to control our circumstances, but we can certainly control our attitude in those circumstances.”

Ada chuckled, leaning back into the seat. “Point taken.” The ride would take much longer in a carriage than it had on horseback. She wondered if there would be highwaymen for her to kill. Or even tree branches to burn out of the way, but there was nothing but peace and agonizingly boring calmness the entire way there.

“Lady Adlington. What a pleasant surprise to receive your missive this week,” Lady Charnock said, meeting them in the drawing room. “Welcome to Charnock.” She left Vivian and moved to Ada, pulling her close and kissing both cheeks. “It has been too long, Ada. How are the wedding plans coming?”

Ada smiled, more real than polite, and surprised herself. “Well, thank you. We thought one last visit to coordinate our efforts was in order.”

“Ada.”

She'd forgotten how William's voice sent shivers up her spine and made the room seem lighter. She turned to see him standing in the doorway, as handsome as ever. Did society frown on betrothed using given names? She wasn't sure but she didn't care. Calling him anything but William felt wrong.

His hair was damp at his temples and he was fastening his cuffs, like he'd come down in a hurry. She could smell the musky scent she hadn't even realized she associated with him until now. It made the flames in her stomach wake the sleeping butterflies.

“William,” she choked. She cleared her throat several times, trying unsuccessfully to turn it into a cough. “It is good to see you again.”

His lips quirked. “It is indeed. You must be tired after your travels.”

“Not. Exactly.” She widened her eyes, praying he wouldn't send her to lie down. She could not stand any more rest. Charity had gone several minutes ago to get them settled in their rooms.

“Then may I give you a tour of the estate? Perhaps the village? It might calm any misgivings you have about making this your new home.”

“William. She just arrived. I'm sure she needs her rest,” Vivian said, clucking her tongue like a daft chicken.

“I am fine, Mother. William, I would love that.”

With their mothers looking on like proper chaperones, she took William's arm and let him lead her around the estate. Most of the manor, she'd seen when she'd rested there in the embarrassment that was her first visit. The gardens, she'd seen from the window, but he led her through them and she marveled at their beauty. “The gardens at Adlington are much smaller. They have never been something of importance to my father.”

She felt William's eyes on her as she bent to smell the flowers, stroking the silky petals with the edge of her finger. “I noticed.”

“I am sorry about my father's guard. He… he isn't stable.” The words felt like knives in her throat. She was a traitor to her heart, despite the fact that she spoke the truth.

“You defended him.”

“I did. We grew up together. He is my friend.”

William sighed, waiting until she faced him to speak again. Flowers forgotten, she found herself caught in his gaze. “You love him.”

“I—I do not—why would you say—”

He shook his head, his eyes sad. “I saw the way you looked at him in London. No one else in the world existed but him.” He looped her hand through his elbow again, drawing them away from their mothers. “We are friends, Ada, but I pray that one day you will look at me that way.”

She glanced over her shoulder at their chaperones, making certain they were not within hearing distance. “William,” she shook her head, nibbling on her lip as she tried to gather courage. “Why—why did you ask for my hand?”

He answered immediately, as if he had given this much thought already. “Because you fascinate me. Because I know you very little and yet I believe…” His voice trailed off and a flush crept up his cheeks.

Heart pounding, she laid gentle fingers against his chin and turned his face toward hers. “You believe what, William?” she whispered.

“I believe I am in love with you.”

She gasped, feeling her eyes widen. “You believe—”

“I believe I've been in love with you from that very first instant in my forests when you obliterated the bunny.” His lips quirked. “Illegally, I might add.”

She could not think of what to say. She begged her mind to come up with something, anything, but her thoughts were as frozen in shock as the rest of her, and her mouth opened and closed in a silent conversation she was apparently having with herself.

“Since you will be my bride in mere weeks, I will not fine you for the bunny.”

She burst out laughing. It was a panicked, maniacal laugh, but it was all she could muster. His face split into a relieved grin and they resumed walking.

“Why do I never see your father, William?”She changed the subject to a safer one. She'd noticed the Earl of Charnock's absence every time, and curiosity was driving her mad. Well, madder. She wasn't sure she was still entirely sane as it was.

William didn't answer for a very long time, tracing her fingers where they lay against his arm. “He is bedridden. There is no cure for him, and his mind is long gone from pain.”

Ada's mind whirled to life, coming up with a thousand thoughts now that she didn't desperately need them, and her feet slowed. William stopped with her, peering down in concern. She waved her hand through the air, trying to wave away the worry, but he only frowned more. “I could… I might be able to heal him.”

“I thought Carules were healers.” William straightened.

“They are. But my governess, she is a Carules. She taught me to heal. I could try.”

William studied her for long moments. “No one knows about my father. They think he is extremely busy. If word were to get out…”

She smiled gently. “I am not promising I can heal him. But I can promise that I will not say a word to anyone.”

****

She heard the screams long before they got to his rooms. They sent chills through her soul. “I'm sorry. Are you sure you are up to this, Ada?” William asked quietly, glancing over his shoulder. He hadn't told his mother their plan, so they snuck through the manor. It was easier to sneak as they got closer; every sound they made was drowned out by the screaming.

She nodded because it was fairly obvious that he wouldn't be able to hear her if she attempted to respond.

His father, the Earl of Charnock, looked more like a pile of misshapen bones with just a bit of skin to cover them. His hair was gone, and from the looks of it, had been forcibly removed. His eyes rolled around in his head, wild and dulled by pain.

“He cannot see!” William yelled to be heard over the noise.

Ada nodded again. The smell nearly made her gag — the smell of decaying flesh on a still living body, of bodily waste, and unwashed skin. She could not plug her nose if she wanted to breathe. Breathing through her mouth was not an option. Who knew what she might inhale?

Gathering her courage, she crossed the expansive room to the bedside. The furnishings were dark mahogany with beautiful linens. Odd to see such a wasted away human in such fine surroundings.

Fear made it hard to find the flames. Fear of failure, fear of causing more harm than good. Fear of the man himself. What if she touched him and he burst into a pile of dust? He seemed so close to it now.

But she felt William watching her, and even from clear across the room with her back to him, she could feel his hope. She raised her hands, praying silently while she begged for her power to cooperate. The warm red magic wisped from her palms, and she hurriedly held them to his head. It seemed the most logical place to start. The power leaped, and it felt like the flames were being sucked from her, almost faster than she could give. Her eyes flew open, but she could not pull away.
What have I done?

The man stopped screaming. His eyes, which had been wild and rolling, fell closed and he lay back against his pillows. The pull ceased, and she lowered her hands, watching. But his body still twitched with pain, and already she could see the sheen of sweat coating his face as he fought to handle the agony.

She was not done.

Raising her hands once again, she started at his throat, and worked her way down. She healed first his right arm, and then his left, and then his heart. Here, she paused, fearing he would pull her magic from her again, but there was nothing except warm healing. She moved on, not sure if she would be able to continue. Already, she shook with effort. And then she reached his stomach.

Immediately it was clear that this is where the illness came from. Her flames leaped and the pull was more than she could stand. She felt his pain travel through her magic and into her, settling into her stomach and she screeched, but could not pull away. The pain roiled, rotting her internal organs. She scrunched her eyes shut tight, and could feel the disease eating away at her.
His pain
. At once it was clear why an Edren was not meant to be a healer. Just as offensive spells made Christian mad, defensive spells reacted dangerously wrong in Ada. This would kill her. She was sure of it. She wished she would have had one last chance to tell Christian she loved him. One chance to tell Charity to run, far, far away. Who would protect her now? And to tell William that she loved him, too…

The pull died abruptly and Ada collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball. She moaned, grasping her stomach. “Ada! Ada, what's happened? Mother! Send for a doctor!” She felt William next to her, but she could not muster the strength to open her eyes. Her whole being focused only on living through one second of pain to the next.

Above her, she heard a voice. Dry, cracked, more like the croak of a dead man than living. “You will be the death of my son. Do you hear, William? She will be the death of you.”

BOOK: The Spark of a Feudling
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