The Faintest Ink (Watty Winner 2015)

Chapter Eighty-Two

Hope pulled back Lake's hair, twisting the red locks around her hand to keep it out of the way while the girl threw up. The poor child's forehead was beaded with sweat, and her skin was hot to the touch. Hope whispered soothing noises as she stroked Lake's heaving back.

"There you go, darling. Get it all out of you. You'll feel better soon," she said, wishing she could believe her own words.

It had been like this for almost an hour. They'd managed to find an abandoned warehouse close to the river, but they couldn't stay there much longer. By the sounds of it, the rioters had no intention of settling down for the night, it was only a matter of time before someone decided to see what choice products was left for them to pick over.

Viridian paced from side to side, constantly checking out of the windows. He'd been on edge ever since they saw the carriage. She remembered the panic in his voice as he begged her to come away. The crowds had been getting bigger with every passing second, but she couldn't move. Seeing Wallia again had transported her back to her childhood, barely out of the nursery and wedded to a man older than her own father.

She'd been as sick as Lake the night she left. Her body ravaged by yet another failed pregnancy, and her mind bleary with fever. He hadn't come to see her. She was no use to him in that state. Instead, she'd been looked after by one of her maids, who pulled her around and made her skin sticky with repeated applications of a foul smelling poultice, which made her see strange things. At one point she was sure a witch had crept into her room and cast a spell on her. It was amazing that she'd even been able to walk, but walk she had, staggering through the countryside in a state of deliriousness.

At least Viridian, for all his mistakes, had always been there. Except 'there' wasn't proving to be particularly helpful at that moment. He couldn't stay still. His hands fidgeted, as if wanting to assist, but not knowing how.

"We need to leave," he said, still pacing.

Lake's tiny body heaved once more, but there was nothing left to come out. She gasped for air, shaking with the effort. "She can't move," said Hope, reaching out for one of the bags, trying to find the jug of water she had packed. What the girl really needed was some dry bread, but with the chances of finding a bakery open and willing to serve them right now, one might as well wish for stardust.

"We can't stay here."

"Don't you think I know that?" she snapped. Ochre's head lifted sleepily, blinking with tiredness as he took in his surroundings. For a dreadful moment his lip wobbled, but thankfully he managed to keep quiet. Hope sighed with relief. She didn't want Madder waking up. The sight of his twin vomiting all over the place would probably set him off as well. "Blossom. There's a flask in there somewhere."

Blossom nodded, and kneeled down, turning over the contents until she found the small clay flask. She pulled the cork stopper and handed it over.

"You need to drink, darling," said Hope holding it to Lake's cracked lips. The girl groaned and turned her head away. "You have to," she said, harsher this time. The girl squirmed. "Viridian? I need you to hold her."

She shifted to one side, so that he could grasp her shoulders, holding her still as she lifted the jug again. But Lake tossed her head, fighting against her father. Viridian let go, flinging himself back. "I can't," he said. "We're hurting her."

"If she doesn't drink, she'd going to pass out." Her voice shook. She wanted to scream and run away, but this wasn't something she could run away from.

Viridian stared at her, looking as if he was being tortured, but he nodded. Lake squirmed as soon as he touched her, making him wince in agony. "I'm sorry," he said, dropping his hands as if he had been burnt.