"What price?" I croaked out, the question barely sounding as a whisper before another ragged cough cut me off.
I clutched at the loose shirt she had provided me, my nails curling in the soft fabric and scratching my chest hard enough to leave red marks through it as a burn formed at its center. I was barely able to draw in another breath as it grew into a searing pain, eliciting more choked coughs that had my shoulders curling and jerking with each one. As they hacked their way out of my throat, the pain between my breasts grew, making me claw at myself in hopes of digging out whatever I had swallowed that had become stuck part way down my esophagus.
In my panic and pain, I didn't notice Hilda draw closer until her whispered words sounded in my ear. "One that will benefit us both, as long as you keep your lips sealed."
She pulled back, placing a silencing finger against her lips as Silas's voice cut across the kitchen.
"You okay?" he asked, making his way over to the island to set down a wooden cutting board with fileted fish that he held. Artemis flew in after him before the door could slam shut, landing on a chair on the opposite side of the table. It was a surprise it didn't topple over under her weight as Silas turned his furrowed eyes toward me as he reached for a towel that was resting over his shoulder to wipe his hands.
"It seems a glass of water is enough to kill your stray with the way she drinks," Hilda remarked with a shake of her head. It hid the look of warning she sent my way from her son.
"Ma, be nice."
She scoffed. "That's rich coming from you. You weren't very nice to Sheria when I brought her over last week. Or Helena the week before. Why should I be nice to your guest?"
"Because I'm not trying to whore you out to my guest."
"Silas!" Hilda gasped in outrage as Artemis made a clicking sound that sounded suspiciously like laughter. "I am your mother. All I want is the best for you. For you to settle down and make a home of your own."
Silas dropped the towel on the counter. "If you recall, I built this home," he retorted, crossing his arms to accentuate the muscles in his forearms that his rolled-up sleeves revealed.
"And with the way things are going, it seems you plan to die in it all alone."
"Sounds like you're trying to get rid of me so you can die alone in it."
"Boy," she said, dragging the word out in warning. "At least my guests don't come with the risk of a death sentence," she glared, as she smoothed down her skirt.
That had his jaw ticking.
"If not this, they would have found another reason to sentence me to it, ruining the happy little family you keep picturing me with. At least this might make it somewhat valid."
His strained words had Hilda deflating, her anger leaving her in a tired sigh. "I won't let that happen, Silas."
"There's only so much you can do, Ma."
"More than you know, son." Her voice held a hard resolve.
Turning with a pinched frown on her lips, her eyes shot toward me in determination before she made her way out of the kitchen, leaving the tension she had created behind.
It softened as Silas realized an exhausted sigh.
"Sorry about that. She's not usually so... hostile." Silas said, his lips pulling down into a frown as he started after his mother.
I cleared my throat, the burn having peaked during their argument before beginning to die down. "I'm guessing it's not every day you bring back an unwanted guest." One that they could be sentenced to death for harboring.
"No, that's usually her domain," he said, shaking his head as he made his way to a spice rack filled with glass jars. Pulling a few down, he returned to the fish he had cleaned and fileted.
While he began to unscrew the lids, I rubbed at the lingering warmth in my chest, worried about what it could possibly mean. "When you said you knew someone who might be able to help me..."
"It's her," he answered, confirming my fears.
I swallowed hard, trying not to wince. "How? She doesn't seem very open to the idea." So much so, that she may just have poisoned me.
"I'll discuss it with her over dinner. Just flash her a pitiful look or two while I do the talking."
I frowned as I watched him lift one of the glass jars to his nose and take a sniff, quickly pulling it away as he scrunched his nose.
Why was he helping me?
The question had been ringing in my head since he had offered to take me to someone who could. He didn't know why I was here- I didn't either, but still, given his suspicions that I could be working with Cedric against him, enough to warrant precautions, why would he bring me into his home and offer me aid? Spite wasn't enough, not when his actions were putting him and his mother in danger.
But then again, I didn't know how deep his hatred ran for the man.
I didn't air the questions running through my head as I watched him, afraid it would lead him to second-guessing and changing his mind. I could understand him wanting to keep me close because he wanted to know what Cedric and the Winter King wanted from me, but that didn't explain why he would help me get home.
I sighed. Although I didn't want to blindly trust a stranger who scared me, I had no other choice. I wouldn't be able to survive here long enough to even try to get back home without his help, no matter why he was offering it.
Maybe he was just... nice?
I held back a snort, unable to believe someone would go through all this just from the kindest of their heart. It was more likely that he was lying to appease me and keep me from freaking out while he got what he wanted. Kind people didn't coax others into being choked by magic to send a threatening message. He had to have an ulterior motive. His mother sure seemed to.
Deep in thoughts that had my concerns and suspicions growing, movement had my eyes refocusing on the man across from me and widening. Silas was leaning against the counter behind him with his arms crossed while the spices in the glass jars he had set out on the island rose into the air. His hair shifted lightly as they twisted and wove together until they were uniformly mixed before lowering towards the fileted fish that rose to meet the colorful mix. Once each piece was evenly coated, they lowered back onto the cutting board as the excess spices fell over them in a sprinkle.
My mouth which had parted in awe snapped shut. "How do you do that? Manipulate air?" Which I could only presume he was still doing.
"Each court is able to control one of the four strings of nature; air, earth, water, and fire. Those with the blood of the autumn court are able to manipulate air. Depending on bloodlines, some can barely manipulate a breeze to move a leaf, while others can control each breath a living being takes." Or doesn't take, my mind decided to add, causing my heart rate to pick up a notch.
"Was that how you made that dead mouse move?"
I felt the air surrounding us grow thin and cold, causing the fine hairs of my body to stand as his face hardened at my question.
Dropping his arms and straightening, he turned to retrieve a pan hanging from a hook and set it on the stove. It became clear he wasn't going to answer me as he stiffly moved to light a flame and add a dash of oil.
Swallowing hard, I reached for the choker around my neck as I noticed it grew difficult to draw a proper breath where I sat. I rushed to my feet when my fingers were able to slip under the stiff material, letting me know it wasn't the cause for the sudden difficulty. Nearly making my chair fall in my panicked hast, I rushed out of the kitchen, his words before his dismissive silence echoing in my head.
Others can control each breath a living being takes.
The moment I entered the living room, I drew in gasped and satisfying breaths that I couldn't manage in the other room where the temperature had dropped. It wasn't in my head like I had been hoping. Not the cold or the breaths I had struggled to take. He did that.
Why did I have to bring up the damn mouse?
* * *
Hiding out in a bathroom I had found down a short hallway off the living room that lead to a small bedroom that seemed to belong to Hilda by the glimpse I had taken inside, I spent the precious moments before dinner that I had to myself trying and failing to expel the pearly pill I had swallowed from my stomach. I had thought the twisting in my gut after I had managed to catch my breath while pacing on the worn rug in the living room would have made it easy, but I had no such luck. Not when I needed it.
If only I had been brave enough to risk Hilda's wrath by saying no rather than balking at the threatening glint in her eyes. Could it have been worse than what my mind was convincing me this pill could be capable of...
Yes. Silas had proven that with his display in the kitchen. I had no idea what either of them was capable of, but I had a feeling that whatever bloodline they belonged to could make death by poison seem like a quick and peaceful one if they wanted to.
The unease churning in my stomach rose to help me empty it at the worst time; when I was seated around the dinner table with a plate of seared fish and steaming vegetables in front of me. I rose a hand to my mouth, pretending to dab my lips with a napkin while trying to keep the few bites I has taken from ending up back on my plate. As much as I feared the pill that came with threats, I didn't dare to break the tense silence filled with the scraping sounds of Hilda and Silas eating to try my luck with fingering my throat again. Instead, I stuck to sneaking glances Silas's way, wondering when he would broach the subject of helping me.
Or if he would at all.
Then I could maybe sneak off to the bathroom afterward.
Catching my eyes for the fourth time since we had begun eating in silence, Silas released a sigh as I darted them away. I focused on my plate as he reached for his glass of water and took a sip.
"You still in touch with those friends of yours, Ma?"
"I have many friends I'm still in touch with, Silas. Just the other day Penelope came by with homemade sweets. She was disappointed that you weren't home."
"Not those friends. You know who I'm referring to," he grumbled as he set his glass down.
"No, I don't," she said, her knife scraping over her plate as she took another bite.
"The ones you didn't like me talking to when they stopped by."
"Hmm, I wouldn't call those friends."
"What would you call them?" He inquired, his eyes narrowing on her.
"Acquaintance? Contacts? Our relationships were strictly business."
"Well, are you still in touch with your contacts?"
"Perhaps," she shrugged nonchalantly to Silas's growing annoyance.
"Would you be able to get me in touch with them?" He asked tightening his grip on his fork.
"For what?"
"To find out if there are any portal keys circling the underground market."
The barked laugh that left Hilda's lips had me jumping while the frown on Silas's face deepened.
"That's your plan? There hasn't been word of a key since the Royal courts hunted them down and destroyed them all."
"Not all of them."
"My associates may be questionable, but they're not stupid enough to attempt to steal from the royal families."
"But they could know those who are."
Another silence sounded as they stared at each other. Silas waited patiently for an answer while Hilda's eyes grew narrow.
"I would need to check," she said, not sounding pleased at the idea.
He nodded, a strained pause following as he mulled over his next words.
I wasn't the only one to notice.
"Spit it out," Hilda said as she set her fork down to reach for her glass.
"While you're at it, could you also see if there's anyone who may have ears within the winter court? Someone who may know what the Winter King wants with a human?"
I shrunk into my seat when his question had Hilda cutting her eyes toward me. There was no way pitiful looks would have worked on her. I was sure she had already caught plenty on my face.
"I'll look into it," she ground out before taking a sip of water.
"Thank you," Silas said, his shoulders loosening as he returned to his meal.
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