Thread of Ash and Fire

Ch. 28: The Best Piece of Me

"Anyway," Julian said, taking a sip, "I managed to find a tavern, but I was completely disoriented. I had no idea where the cottage was, or if you'd even be there. So I started making covert inquiries. I thought if I could get hold of Edgar or Devan — if I could speak with them — then they might be able to get in touch with you."

"They're both on the run," Isolde supplied. "They fled as soon as Roberge changed sides."

Julian nodded. "I know. I tracked down one of Edgar's men. He managed to get a letter to Edgar, but Edgar refused to meet with me. He sent a letter instead. Said he had no idea where you were, and even if he did, he wasn't about to put it in writing."

Malissa blew on her tea. "Sensible."

"We didn't want to risk telling the Red Brothers," Isolde added. "The fewer people that know our location, the better."

Julian frowned. "Who does know?"

"Nobody." Isolde paused. "Well, except for Spiffy."

Julian nodded. "Good."

"How did you find us, then?" Malissa asked.

She was studying her son the same way that a jeweler might examine gold that they suspected could be false. Julian set down his mug. "I wrote a letter."

Malissa crossed her arms. "We never got any—"

"Look outside," Julian said.

Malissa crossed to the window. She threw open the window and then cursed, ducking as a large shadow soared into the room. The raven settled on the back of a chair, shaking the snow from its feathers. A letter hung from its claws. Isolde hid a smile. Clever.

"You followed the bird," Isolde deduced.

Julian nodded. "Bloody thing led me in circles for days. I think it was trying to figure out whether I was trustworthy." He held out a hand, and the raven settled on his arm. "They're smart, ravens."

He petted the bird's beak. The raven gave him a long-suffering look, and Isolde held out a biscuit, which seemed to mollify the creature slightly. They really were very clever, Isolde thought; a fitting choice for the Cidarius family sigil.

Julian leaned closer. Something sour wafted over her, and she wrinkled her nose.

"Jules?"

He looked up. "Yeah?"

"No offense," Isolde said, "but you stink."

Julian laughed. Her favourite laugh, the type where you knew you'd surprised him into it. He rose, limping to the window. "Is there a bath in this place?"

The raven soared into the snowy night. Isolde held out a hand.

"Come on," she said. "I'll help you."

She led him down the hall. Twice, Julian stumbled, wincing as he fetched up against the wall. Then he drew a deep breath and they began again. She steered him into a bedroom.

"What happened to your leg?" Isolde asked.

Julian pulled a face. "Landed funny jumping from the carriage." He braced himself the sideboard, sweat clinging to his forehead. "To think I made it through a whole battle unscathed only to be defeated by an oversized wagon."

Isolde picked up a bucket. "You look very dashing and heroic."

Julian's smile was tired. "You're a terrible liar. But thank you."

She filled a bathtub. Julian struggled with his trousers, cursing as he pushed them to his ankles. Heat flooded her cheeks. Isolde was about to turn away to offer him some privacy when Julian tugged off his shirt, and she sucked in a breath.