Page 31 of Spar of Hearts

Anya crouched down to eye level with her. “My name is Anya. What is yours?”

“Mabel,” the girl said softly. “Want to see my doll? I got her yest—” The girl coughed until her eyes watered. Up close, she could see gray circles under her eyes, a runny nose and pallor in her cheeks.

“Sorry…” Mabel cast her teary eyes to the floor and clutched her doll close.

“I would love to see your doll.” Anya smiled again, hoping to bring light to the girl’s eyes.

“She has eyes like me,” Mabel said in a scratchy, quiet voice, holding the doll out to her. It was a handmade toy, with shiny red buttons for eyes and dark yarn curls just like Mabel’s.

Anya marveled at the doll for a moment.

Someone put a lot of effort into this.

The girl was beaming an incredible, pearly smile. It was hard to imagine that such a young child had lived through the horrors of the islands. She almost teared up but swallowed it down. Now was not the time. She couldn’t cure the girl now, but she could make her happy.

“Your eyes are beautiful, like rubies!” She hoisted Mabel into her arms. The girl giggled and squealed with delight, clinging to her tightly.

“Here should be fine, Baroness,” Anya whispered. “You can treat all the children’s symptoms without worry. I cannot tell you how, but I know there are mana stones in the north. We will return with enough stones to cure them all, including your granddaughter. I swear it.”

The Baroness’ mouth sat agape for a moment. She shook her head. “My academic heart wants to pepper you with questions, Your Highness.” She sighed. “But alas, I shall place my trust in your words alone. Please make haste. Most of the children are still mobile, but many have become bedridden. Our healers say it will only get worse.”

Anya was just about to set Mabel down when she coughed again, dropping her doll. But this time, the attack didn’t stop. Gasping breaths came between the coughs, desperate to get as much air as possible before the next wave hit. Tears streamed down the girl’s reddening face.

“W-what do I do?” Anya searched the Baroness’s face with panicked eyes.

“Oh! Yes! We have stones again! I’ll go get a mage!” The Baroness darted down the hall, then stopped short of the end. “Lay her down please! Her room is the furthest on the left!”

She rubbed a hand over Mabel’s back as she headed toward the room. The hacking was unrelenting. “It’ll be all right, Mabel. I brought something that will help you feel better.”

“My—” Mabel gasped and reached an arm back. “My doll…”

“I have your doll.” Lord Bryson’s voice came from behind her. She turned around. He smiled, but his eyes were glassy with worry. “Look, see?” His voice cracked as he moved the doll side to side, dancing it toward Mabel. She started to laugh, then coughed again, more violently than any before. Black muck splattered onto the girl’s chest.

They both froze, staring at the inky fluid.

“C-come on, let’s tuck you in.” Anya tried but failed to keep her voice steady. Lord Bryson followed silently alongside them. It was haunting to pass the children that still seemed to play like normal. How long until those little ones took a turn like Mabel? Until Emmaline did?

They reached a room marked “Abby, Mabel, Lilibet, & Madeline” and opened the door. Two sturdy wooden bunks were on either side of the room, stocked with plenty of cozy blankets. They knelt beside the bed with “Mabel” painted in violet lettering. Lord Bryson pulled the quilt back, and she laid Mabel down onto the mattress. He smiled weakly and pulled the blankets up to Mabel’s chest, then danced her doll across the covers and tucked it in beside her.

While Mabel’s coughing slowly ceased, her own fear did not. She dabbed the black fluid from the girl’s chest with her sleeve. This was no ordinary sickness.

“Do you want some water?” She glanced at the cup on the nightstand. Mabel nodded. The girl’s arms were shaking, so she held the cup for her, slowly dribbling the water into her mouth. The quiet relief that followed was music to her ears.

“You’re very tough. What’s your name?” Lord Bryson asked.

“Mabel,” she answered hoarsely, hugging her doll close.

“Well, Mabel, do you want to hear a story?”

Mabel nodded and cracked a little smile despite her teary eyes. Lord Bryson sat at the foot of the bed and cracked his knuckles. Anya stayed knelt beside Mabel, holding her hand.

“There once was a knight who fought goblins and ogres every day. No monster was too tough for him. One day, a little town needed his help. Teeny tiny monsters were sneaking into houses and stealing laughter from the people! He tried and tried to hunt the tiny monsters, but he couldn’t see them. So he went to the King and Queen. ‘I need help!’ he said. ‘I need someone with magical golden eyes to help me find these monsters!’ The King and Queen cared very much, so they sent the Princess to help the knight. The Princess used her golden eyes to find the monsters, and the knight took his sword and turned them to dust!” He waved his hands and wiggled his fingers, showering imaginary dust onto the bed. “Soon, the streets were filled with laughter and fun. Summer came, and everyone swam in the river and ate berries right off the bushes. Ever eaten a berry right off the bush?”

Mabel shook her head.

“Well, you will! Because guess what?” He leaned in and whispered, “We’re the knight and the Princess from the story. And we’re going to be back by summer to pick berries with you.”

Mabel’s jaw dropped. “What?” She looked between them. The girl’s red eyes stared into her own golden ones, then at Lord Bryson as he smiled and tapped his scabbard.