Wendigo Wars (17 page)

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Authors: Dulcinea Norton-Smith

BOOK: Wendigo Wars
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Mathilde lay in the hospital room in the east corner of the settlement. It had taken an hour for her wounds to be cleaned and dressed. There had been no major damage but she had a lot of flesh wounds, enough to make her ache and sting all over. Seb sat by her bed not talking. He had been there for a good ten minutes and other than asking how she was had said nothing. It was driving Mathilde mad.

“Look did you just come in for me to watch you staring at your hands? Sorry but I’m tired and aching and I could do with some rest.”

“Sorry Tilly. I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I’ve never seen you like that before, fighting so close up. You were amazing. I can see now how you could have the fate of getting rid of the wendigo. How the prophecy could be right.”

“Shut up Seb.” Mathilde surprised herself with how sharply she had spoken. “We don’t even know what the prophecy is. Father never thought me important enough to share that information, and to be honest I don’t believe in prophesies anyway. My fighting was a mess. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“You should have seen it from our side Tilly. Seriously, it was like I didn’t even know you, I have never seen anyone fight that confidently.”

“Ha,” said Mathilde, deciding not to push the issue any further.

“Are you sure you trust Dash? I don’t like him Tilly.”

“Don’t start that Seb. You aren’t objective.”

“Maybe not. I love you Tilly. Did you know that? I am actually in love you and it is killing me but that isn’t why I don’t trust him.”

Mathilde couldn’t meet Seb’s eye; two proclamations of love completely out of the blue and both done in such terrible ways at such inappropriate times. She didn’t know how she felt about either one. Dash certainly made her tingle and she couldn’t stop thinking about him but could she love someone she didn’t trust? Seb had been in Mathilde’s life for as long as she could remember and if he were to disappear from it her heart would tear in two but was it any more than love for her best friend?

“I know and no I don’t trust him, even though I wish I did, but there is definitely a General Zhu, we knew that before we met Dash. This is the only lead we have. We have to go with it.”

“Ok. Just watch your back with Dash ok?”

“Yeah, course I will. Don’t worry about me.”

Seb reached over to squeeze Tilly’s hand. He looked at her face intently as he did, as if wondering whether to say something more. Mathilde felt a familiar shot of electricity up her arm, making her heart race. She enjoyed it for a moment before suddenly realising, with a jolt, that she was feeling it with the wrong person. This is how she felt with Dash not Seb. She had never felt this way with Seb. He seemed to read her face.

“Tilly...” he said, his voice full of hope.

“Mathilde,” came a deeper voice from the doorway, a Romanian accent thick with emotion.

Mathilde and Seb shot a look to the door and Mathilde felt instantly guilty even though she had done nothing wrong. Dash stared at them.

“Seb, how are you?” Dash asked.

“Fine. I was just leaving,” said Seb, not letting go of Mathilde’s hand. He stared a challenge at Dash then stood up, bending over slightly on his way to kiss Mathilde goodbye on the forehead. Mathilde tried to remain impassive and not to show that the kiss had the same effect as holding her hand had. Dash stared at Seb until he had left the room then he turned to Mathilde with an unreadable look which he quickly turned into a warm smile.

“I was worried about you,” he said, moving to sit beside the bed. He grasped Mathilde’s hand and absentmindedly stroked the inside of her elbow with his other hand. The familiar tingle came back, throwing Mathilde into an even greater state of confusion.

“I’m doing fine. I will be up and about by tomorrow and we can set to planning our next move.”

“It wasn’t that which worried me,” said Dash, sounding offended. “I couldn’t bear for you to get hurt. I meant what I said about loving you.”

Mathilde’s head span with pain, confusion and the heat of the room. She had heard that word so many times now that it had lost all meaning and she felt like screaming. She wasn’t even sure she understood what love meant anymore.

“If you are going to throw around words like ‘love’ you had better be sure that you mean them boy,” came a gruff voice from the doorway, “and you had better know that any love for you would always have to come second to duty.”

Mathilde’s head whipped towards the doorway. All fuzziness was gone from her mind at the sound of that voice, the soft but rough French Canadian accent which she hadn’t heard for many years. At the door stood a man who was tall and wide enough to fill the doorway. He had thick, long hair and a heavy blond curly beard. In front of him stood a more familiar figure - a girl with Mathilde’s eyes but darker skin, wearing the traditional clothes of the Cree tribe.

“Father... Fleur!”

Dash shot to his feet. “Mr Fidell, an honour to meet you Sir.”

“Young man, you may sit. I don’t stand on ceremony and you are not the one I am here to see.”

“You came to see me?” Mathilde felt trepidation at what this could mean for the damned prophecy. Was she about to find out more? A great weight threatened to settle on her shoulders and push all thoughts of love from her mind. At the same time she felt like a little girl, in the presence of the father she had only seen in dreams for a good many years.

“No my dear, I was here already when you arrived.”

Mathilde’s heart sank slightly. He was in Romania already and had made no effort to see her. He had no love for her, he cared only about the part she supposedly held in whatever fate was to come.

“But I watched you fight. I was proud. You were your father’s daughter.”

Mathilde’s heart leapt again. Her father had more power over her emotions than Dash or Seb could ever have and second only in importance to his love was his approval.

“Thank you Father.”

Fleur drifted over to Mathilde in the floaty, silent way that only she could. She hugged Mathilde gently but for a long time and Mathilde inhaled the smoky, eucalyptus and lavender scent of her silky hair. It reminded her of her mother and looking at Fleur’s face in the flesh she had begun to look more like their mother too.

“Have you learnt more about General Zhu?” she asked as she took a seat by Mathilde’s bedside.

“Yes,” Mathilde said before filling her sister and father in on what she had learnt from Dash. Jean Louis remained standing in the doorway, making Mathilde jumpy. Both Fleur and Jean Louis registered shock when they heard of the captives and a silent agreement was communicated with a slight nod from Jean Louis, that to rescue them was the right thing to do.

“But from what Dash says there are a lot of them, a lot more than there are of us. I don’t know how we can fight and win.”

“I may be able to help you with that,” said Jean Louis, finally coming to Mathilde’s bedside, “but not quite yet. I need another week or so.”

“I am not sure we have that long,” said Mathilde.”They know we’re here but for some reason they didn’t attack us when we were en route. Whatever the reason for that I’m sure that they will now either be strengthening their defenses or planning an attack. Either way we can’t afford to wait and give them the advantage.”

“We will discuss it tomorrow Mathilde, with a committee of some of the Brotherhood and the Protectorate. When you hear what I have to offer you may decide that to wait is the best option.”

Jean Louis and Dash both said goodbye to Mathilde in their own way, Jean Louis gruff and business like and Dash with a kiss that Mathilde felt was far too passionate to have given in front of her father. She saw Jean Louis glare at Dash as they left the room. Fleur stayed behind and stroked Mathilde’s hair as she fell into a deep sleep which was filled with suitors and wendigo. The small part of Mathilde’s brain which knew she was asleep was glad that she had kept on her moonstone pendant and that Fleur was nearby, watching over her in the dream plain to stop any wendigo spirit from finding her dream self in such a confused and emotional state and invading her soul.

 

Chapter Twenty Two

 

Mathilde dressed slowly. Though every part of her still hurt she was well enough to get out of bed. Once she was ready she made her way to the dining hall. Grabbing a filling breakfast of meat, cheese and bread she looked for a place to sit. Her father sat with Tobias and was deep in conversation, not even registering that she had entered the dining hall. Seb sat with the Protectorate and Dash sat alone. None of them saw as she entered the dining room and gathered her food. Each of them sat, absorbed in conversation or thought.

“Probably a blessing. It means we can talk.” A voice in Mathilde’s ear made her jump.

“Morning Fleur. Where did you disappear to this morning?”

“Ah I had spirit walks to do. I met with Violette to tell her what was happening. She sends her love.”

Mathilde couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous of Fleur and Violette’s bond. Without the pressure of saving the world and with their shared ease with the spirit world they had always seemed closer to each other than Mathilde thought they felt to her.The sisters found a table in the corner of the room. Dash had seen Mathilde and had smiled hopefully at her but she gave a dismissive smile and sat with Fleur. Even as she did it she felt guilty and desperate to be with Dash instead but the doubts about him still tugged at the edges of her mind and she felt herself putting up a protective wall inside her brain to stop any pain before it began.

“So two men fighting over you eh? Don’t look at me like that, I have seen the way that Seb and Dash look at you.”

Mathilde sighed and prodded at her food. “They both claim to be in love with me.”

Fleur’s laughter pealed in the air. “A life without boyfriends and now two men are clamoring for your heart. That is priceless. So which is it to be?”

“I don’t know. I thought I was in love with Dash but I just can’t trust him. He keeps too much back, too many secrets. Seb... well I have known him forever. It would be so easy to slip into being with him but maybe I just think I like him because it would be comfortable and safe. Maybe I really shouldn’t bother with love. After all it would interfere with my destiny wouldn’t it?” Mathilde said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Fleur looked concerned as she spoke.”Mathilde you can’t fight it. There is a prophecy and it is your destiny to help rid the world of the wendigo. It’s our destiny to do it together, the three sisters, but you in particular. You know you are fated to lead us to a better world.”

“Ha! I don’t believe it at all.”

“Mathilde!”

“I’m not kidding Fleur. I have tried to believe it to be true for so many years but why should it be? I am no better than anyone else. There are a hundred people better in battle than I am. Why would I be so special as to be able to fight an entire species? I can only just deal with one wendigo without being killed myself.” Mathilde held her arms up to flash her many new bruises and cuts at Fleur.

“Because of the prophecy; because mother foresaw it and she was a great spiritual medium; because Father believes it.”

“He believes it because he can’t see another way out of this. He believes it because it’s the only way he can justify pushing us away for all of these years but maybe he pushes us away because we remind him of Mother. The prophecy is just a convenient excuse.”

“That isn’t true Mathilde. You were born to lead us to triumph against our enemies.”

Mathilde shook her head and looked down at her plate. Fleur fell silent and ate, deep in thought. Mathilde couldn’t stomach any food, even though she had been starving just moments earlier. Fleur looked at Mathilde again, determination and confidence shining in her eyes.

“Father is sure that you can save us and I am too. I know it is a heavy load to carry but I can see it shining off of you Mathilde. You are special and you will lead to the death of all wendigo.”

“Well we don’t need to worry then do we? I have it all under control!” Mathilde regretted her scathing words the second they left her mouth but she felt so angry that she couldn’t force herself to apologise, even though she saw that Fleur was hurting.

“He will tell us the prophecy when the time is right Mathilde and then it will all make sense.”

Mathilde shook her head and did not bother to answer. Everyone seemed more than happy to put the fate of the world at her feet. It wasn’t them who were expected to do the impossible though or that had been cheated out of the normal life that she often wished she could choose.

“Well that pretty much solves the Seb and Dash problem then doesn’t it? As Father says; love will always come second to duty.” Mathilde picked up her plate and left the table, dumping it in the kitchens on her way out. Again she felt angry at herself – she hadn’t seen Fleur in the flesh for years and she was taking her frustrations out on her for no reason – but she kept on walking until she reached the training room.

The room was empty, which Mathilde was thankful for. She picked up a broadsword and twirled it in her hands a few times before moving to one of the fight dummies – a large human sized lump of wood wound around and around in thick rope. Mathilde twisted and turned, sliced and chopped until she was sweating heavily. The movements felt like they were opening up a lot of the wounds on her shoulders and back but she welcomed the pain as it gave her a focus outside of her own jumbled thoughts. She had been fighting her inanimate foe for an hour when she heard a cough at the doorway and turned to see Louisa watching her. She raised an eyebrow at Mathilde.

“Sorry Louisa, did you want to practice?”

“No thanks. I just came to get you. Your Father has called a meeting.”

Mathilde nodded and wiped the sweat from her forehead as they left the room together.

“Your fighting is...wow! I mean, I had never seen you fight properly until last night and then in there... you’re amazing.”

“I’m not that great. Last night was live or die and just then... well I have a lot of frustration to get out at the moment,” said Mathilde, giving a wry smile.

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