The Maid's War(65)

He dared not roll her over, so he laid the scabbard across her back and offered a silent and impassioned plea to the Fountain to save her life. His healing skills were completely inadequate to save her. He knew that. But he believed the Fountain’s magic could do what he could not.

Listening fearfully for the sound of approaching guards—they, too, must have heard her fall—he knelt amidst the debris, his hands clasped together tightly, his heart hammering wildly. She couldn’t die. If she died, so would his child. Tears pricked his eyes and he mutely shook his head, still not able to believe he’d witnessed what he had. He treasured her friendship, how she had made him into a better man. The thought of losing her devastated him.

There was no sign from the scabbard to show whether it was working, but she was breathing. Then, as he stared at her still form in the moonlight, he saw her shoulders start to rise and fall with greater vigor. He heard little cracks and snaps coming from her body, and it made him shudder at the enormity of the healing taking place in an instant.

Then Genette let out a sigh. “You came?” she croaked.

He was still concerned about the guards finding them. How was he going to rescue her and get her away? Her body was fixing itself, but it would take time. And that was something of which they had precious little.

“Of course I did,” he whispered, bending low. “They’ve sold you to our enemies.”

“I know,” she answered. “They arrive on the morrow. I don’t . . . want . . . to go to Kingfountain.”

“I’m going to take you away. There’s a little cottage tucked into the valley of Izzt. You will rest there. You will get stronger. I need you to come with me.”

“I can’t, Gentle Duke.”

It was like a physical blow. “You need to come, Genette. You said yourself, you said the child needs your magic.”

“I know what I said, Gentle Duke. It was a prophecy . . . of sorts. My whole body hurts,” she added with a groan.

“You just fell from a tower. No, you jumped! Why did you jump, Genette?”

She moved her head, wincing with the effort. There was blood trickling from her mouth. “It was the only way . . . to save you.”

He stared at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Nnnghh,” she grumbled. “This hurts so much, but I feel the magic healing me. My legs and hip aren’t broken anymore. You shouldn’t have come, Alensson. I don’t want to go to Kingfountain, but I must go there. I must speak to the boy king of Ceredigion. I don’t want to, understand. But my voices . . . the Fountain bids me. I must make a warning before I . . . before my duty is through.”

Alensson shook his head, gazing at her almost with anger. “No.”

“I must, Gentle Duke. I must go there first.”

“They won’t ransom you, Genette. If you go there, they will kill you. They will throw you into the river and let you rush over the falls.”

She pursed her lips. “It’s not easy to kill someone who is Fountain-blessed. As you can plainly see.”

“Do you think they will let you keep the scabbard?” he chuffed. “No.”

“Of course they won’t. But the scabbard needs . . . it needs to go to Kingfountain, Alensson. You must bring it there, for I cannot. That is why—” She stiffened suddenly with pain and moaned weakly. He felt absolutely helpless and terrified in the face of her suffering. “I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry,” she panted. “It just hurts so much. Do you think a waterfall . . . .hurts this much?”

“I have no idea,” he said in despair. Kingfountain? He had to go there next?

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Hold my hand.”

He leaned over her, wishing he could take her pain on himself. Her arm was stretched out before her, elbow bent. He put his hand on top of hers and squeezed it very gently, watching to see if she flinched.

“It’s the only part that doesn’t hurt,” she gasped. Her thumb grazed his. “I had to jump, Alensson, because you would have been captured tonight,” she explained in an almost matter-of-fact way. “You were very foolish to come here and hide at night. The Fountain whispered to me that you’d be caught. That you brought the sword and that it would be taken away from you. You are not following the will of the Fountain.”

“But how am I to even know the will of the Fountain?” he said, feeling desperate and confused and shaken by the knowledge tumbling from her lips. “How was I to know?”

“You knew before you left the cottage,” she whispered. “You’ve been seeking your own will for so long, Gentle Duke. All now is confusion and despair. So I had to go alone to fulfill the Fountain’s will in all things. Even though I do not want to. When I learned you came, when I learned you’d be captured, I paced and paced, trying to understand what I could do to save you. This was all. The Fountain said if I fell, it would draw attention to my escape. They would forget about seeking the intruder they know is here.”