Page 69 of Strange Grace
Rhun.
She shudders hard; yes, yes, the saint can go with her into the forest. Together they will put a heart in the—in the—
she lifts the veil and says
“Mair, is that you?”
Arthur’s voice, joining Rhun.
Their boots hit the earth hard, as if they’re running for her, and she feels the vibration through the valley.
Mairwen climbs to her feet. The forest needs her.
“I’m coming,” she whispers.
“Mair,” gasps Arthur, and then Rhun touches her hand.
An ache cracks her bones. The thorns on her chest seem to tighten and grow at the same time. The forest whispers such a demanding song that her knees falter and she slips to the ground again, crouching there. She shakes, head lowered, teeth clenched, fighting the forest, bleeding, until arms come around her. She lets herself be lifted off the earth and cradled against Rhun’s chest. He walks away from the village, and Arthur is with them the whole way home.
•••
ALL THREE TUCK THEMSELVES UPinto the dark, secluded loft in the Grace house. Mairwen farthest in, against the wall, where the thatched roof meets the limewash. Rhun holds her freezing hands while Arthur piles blankets on her, hovering like a worried old man.
“Do you hear it?” she whispers, eyes closed, for there is little to see but the glint of their eyes and shadowy outlines.
“I do,” Rhun says, and Arthur at the same time says, “No.”
She clutches Rhun’s hands, then frees one to reach for Arthur. “Baeddan?”
Rhun says, “With my mom. She, and the whole Sayer clan, can handle him. He seems calmer, after eating, and after being around them all.”
“He told a story he remembers from before the forest,” Arthur says as he plays with Mair’s fingers, spreading them out, tracing the length of each.
“Good.” Mairwen pulls both young men toward her. “I am so tired,” she murmurs.
“What happened?” Rhun does not give ground, remaining in his awkward crouch, half on the mattress, half off. “I hear the forest, but it did not do this to me.”
Irritated he won’t just cuddle against her, let her sleep, she says, “I spoke to my mother, and she knew they all died. She knew you had to die, Rhun! She says Grace witches have always known the saint dies! It’s our duty to make sure they’re anointed, to hold up the bargain. We lie.”
Arthur snorts. “I knew it would be like this.”
Rhun slides him a glare, but the darkness swallows it.
“I did,” Arthur continues. “We should’ve set fire to the Bone Tree and then we’d be forced to make a new bargain. One we know all the rules to. We have to break it, even if it can’t be remade. Nothing else will stop this hold it has on you. I’ll go back in and do it now,” he boasts. But he, too, is tired. Drained the way Mairwen is drained. He leans closer to Mair in order to press the back of her hand to his heart.
“We might have to,” Rhun says.
“Not tonight,” Mairwen murmurs, tugging at them again.
This time Rhun takes a moment to remove his boots and climbs in beside her, opening his arm for her to curl against his side. Arthur hesitates. “Do you think I can stop both of you, if you decide to listen to the forest?”
“I won’t leave you,” Rhun says, mirroring Arthur’s earlier promise.
Mairwen nuzzles her blankets. “It’s quieter behind your buzzing. Come closer.”
Underneath his spikes, Arthur wants nothing more than to be loved by these two people. Something tells him, though, that a future is as impossible now as it was before.
“C’mon, Arthur,” Mairwen murmurs.
