Foxheart

Chapter Thirty-Five

Esme woke gradually. She felt comfortable, swaddled in a duvet and her head nestled in a feathered pillow. For a few moments, her memory and sluggish mind began to tie together memories. She had fought alongside Absolon and River Willow against Sodden. She recalled the aggressive attack of his Fellwood Spirit, how Absolon defended her and how she summoned hot sputtering flames from her weak Grimoire. Sodden was defeated. And then nothing. Just the feeling of pure exhaustion, falling and the hard, warm earth meeting her painfully.

But here she was, in a soft bed. Not on the hard wilderness floor. Someone had moved her. Someone had found her.

Panic began to tighten her chest. Her heart fluttered awkwardly and she fought away what murky sleep still held her. With effort, she peeled them open and found herself staring at a white ceiling. She turned her head slowly, wincing at how her head sloshed about, and quickly took in her surroundings.

The small room was filled with potted and picked flowers. They covered the dresser, the desk and the windowsill. It made the air sweet to inhale. The window was cracked open, letting in a gentle breeze to cool the room, and the curtains were closed, casting a blue hazing on the white walls. It seemed so peaceful in here but Esme was still nervous. She had no idea where she was. She recognised nothing and had no indication as to who's house she was in.

With difficulty she sat up, pushing through the numb sleepiness. She noticed a pitcher and glass was on the side table next to her and, feeling parched she reached out to have some, but hesitated. She had no idea what was in the water or even if it was water. After witnessing her aunt being poisoned by her own friend, Esme was suddenly quite wary of drinking it.

'It's safe.' Someone said.

Esme flinched, instinctively curled up, and glanced about for any sign of her pack and Grimoire. Her gaze was forced to focus on the newcomer however as they moved further into the room.

For a moment, Esme felt she was looking at Fox but noticed how their nose was smaller, their eyes bigger and features more round. She was a woman. She was small, very small, and had vibrant red hair that was pulled back into a neat bun.

Esme shuffled into the corner of the bed, pressing herself against the wall. The woman simply smiled and placed the tray she carried on the bed. Esme glanced at it. There large bowl of porridge covered in sugar and cinnamon and a large mug of tea.

'You've slept a long time, I thought you would be hungry.'

Esme stared at the woman's face, who smiled softly. Her eyes weren't like Fox's, they were a deep grey. Her skin wasn't as pale and she was dusted in a thick layer of freckles. But still, she looked like Fox.

'Who are you? Where am I?'

'I am Lydia but you can call me Mouse.' She replied as she lit a match and set up a stick of incense. She recognised the stink instantly. Warbler's incense. Esme relaxed instantly. She was a member of the Fingers and Warbler was here. She was safe.

'You're in my home currently. Warbler brought you and Fox here yesterday.'

Esme's interest perked. 'Fox is here? Is he alive?'

'Yes, my cousin is alive. He's sleeping but his fever is going down and Warbler says he's responding well to medicine and his healing magic.'

Fox was safe. He was alive. The happiness that took her made her feel light and elated and she heaved out a heavy sigh relief. And then she registered that Mouse called herself Fox's cousin.

'Cousin?'

'Yes, cousin. Our mothers were sisters; twins. Born here, grew up here, but my aunt went to the city while my mother stayed.' She smiled.