Page 30 of For the Love of the Quest

“I can see you under there,” came a deep, guttural whisper.

If it was possible, Edith’s terror grew. It was the kind of voice that she’d read horror novels about. She covered her ears with her hands, pressing so tight that her jaw hurt. Pain rippled through her shoulder, but that was the least of her worries.

“Do you not have any fight in you?”

Edith opened her mouth to scream for help, but she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs. The only thing she could force from her lips was a whimper.

Something tugged on the blanket, and then the fabric was ripped free. In a whoosh of air, the cover was gone, and she was horribly exposed.

“Oh shit,” said the voice, and then a hand landed on her shoulder.

Edith scrambled back, too scared to look up at the burlap-clad axe murderer. The hand on her shoulder gripped tighter but remained surprisingly gentle.

“Edith, it’s just me.” It was Thomasin’s voice.

Relief flooded Edith’s body, and she forced her eyes open, expecting to see Thomasin standing over the intruder like an avenging angel. Instead, Thomasin was crouched next to the bed with a burlap sack pushed up on her face, resting on her head like a hat.

She beamed at Edith. “See, it’s only me.” Her fingers undid the buttons of the coat in quick succession. She shrugged it off and held out her arms as if to display that her regular garb had been underneath the coat the whole time. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Edith, still curled in a ball on the bed, fought to catch her breath.

“Look!” She brought the axe up, and Edith flinched as the blade came dangerously close to her face. Thomasin grimaced apologetically. “No, it’s okay, look.” She dragged a finger across the flat side of the bloody blade, then brought her finger to her mouth and sucked the blood off.

Edith gasped, her mouth pinching into a disgusted frown.

“It’s just syrup and dye!”

“What—” Edith unfolded her limbs and pushed herself upright only to collapse back against the headboard. Her muscles were weak, addled by the too-quick transition from adrenaline to relief. “What were you trying to do?”

“I was teaching you self-defense, like you asked!”

“I did not ask you to do this,” Edith snapped back.

Thomasin’s shoulders fell, and her dopey smile went with them. “I’m sorry. I thought this was what you wanted, and I didn’t realize it would scare you this much.”

“I thought you were an axe-wielding lunatic! How did you think I would react?”

“I thought you’d fight me off! And then that was where the teaching part would come in,” she said, like it was the most reasonable plan in the world.

“What about me makes you think that I would have the skills or wherewithal to just jump into combat with a murderer who has broken into my room and startled me half to death?”

“I knew you wouldn’t really have any technical skills, but you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. I figured you’d have no problem jumping into action!”

All of the anger inside Edith evaporated.

“Why are you making a weird face?” Thomasin said cautiously.

Swallowing thickly, Edith said, “You think I’m brave?”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

“Even after what just happened?”

“You ran away from home to hire a mercenary. You’re so brave you’re crazy.”

Thomasin’s conclusion was incomprehensible to her. A minute ago, Edith had been hyperventilating under a blanket. Thomasin had seen all of that, and still she thought Edith was brave. No one had ever thought her brave before. She was the gentle, quiet girl with a delicate constitution.

She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Thomasin’s shoulders, hugging the woman tightly to her. “Thank you,” she said into her hair. Edith felt Thomasin’s own arms come around her, settling on her lower back.