Chapter Three

Pure You

 

He walked me deeper into the cave, not far but where he took me was damper and darker.

Then he bent at the waist to drop me and my hands automatically circled his neck because I didn’t want to go down hard on the shards of stone and he’d drop me hard, I knew it.

Surprisingly, I needn’t have done this for his arms curved around my thighs and waist to lighten the fall and what he put me on was soft.

“You’ve gained weight,” he grunted as he was straightening away from me.

Great. Just great. In this world I was fat. Marvelous.

“I’ve got to see to Salem, get wood, find food. I’ll be back,” he informed me then with no further ado, he turned and left.

I lay on whatever I was on and looked at the dim opening to the space that he’d disappeared through. I heard the horse heave a mighty, shuddering breath through his horse lips and decided that was his greeting to his master.

My mind was blank. So blank, I had not one thought by the time he came back. I heard what sounded like wood crashing to the cave floor then he left again without looking at me. He came back three more times and there were three more wood crashing noises. Then he moved around, I heard more wood banging together, saw the strike of rock against rock and then there was a weak fire. He moved to the wall of the cave, pulled something down and went back to the fire. I watched him light a torch then take it back to the wall and affix it to something. He did this four more times and the torches, with the fire, meant the space was better lit. It wasn’t exactly blazing light you could read by but at least you could see.

And I saw that I was on hides, lots of them. That was when I realized I was trembling violently. I rolled, pulled a hide out, saw that under the top, dark hide there was a bed of what looked like fluffy, cream sheepskins. I crawled in and pulled the top hide over me and up high, wrapping its heavy weight clumsily around me as best I could.

When my eyes went back to him, I saw he was standing with hands on hips, watching me and he didn’t look any happier than he had before. In fact, he looked downright peeved and maybe a bit disgusted.

I pressed my lips together because he freaked me right the hell out.

“Now, food,” he grunted. “If you have it in you, don’t let the fire go out. Keep feeding it. This would, of course, require you to move. Try it, you might not find it that hard.”

Again with the lazy comments. What a jerk.

Then he turned, went to the mouth of the space, unhooked something I hadn’t noticed before and then another heavy, wide hide fell into place behind him, covering the opening to the space and closing me in as I heard his muted boots hit the loose stone outside indicating he was walking away.

I took in a shaky breath and pulled my wet hair out of my face.

“Okay, okay… think,” I whispered as I looked around and tried to control my shivers.

The space was small. There looked to be a makeshift table with stuff on it against the wall. There was a pile of the wood he’d brought in on the floor next to the table (lots of wood, apparently he could carry a heavy load or there was some there before). There seemed to be what looked like weapons on the wall, two swords, some others that looked like long knives and other lethal-looking bits and pieces. There was a fire pit in the middle of the space and I tilted my head back to look up to the ceiling and saw a small, natural hole where the smoke could get through. I found this curious, seeing as no rain was coming in and I could still hear the distant thunder but whatever.

When I got control of my shaking, I pushed the hides back and decided to explore. I noted the stone floor in this space was smooth, not the loose rock of the outer area. I went to the mouth of the space first and touched the hides. Cow, I would guess. A bunch of them stitched together to make a panel wide enough to cover the opening.

After this, I went to the table and saw a pile of animal bones on the floor beside the table. Obviously, this space was well-utilized and although it was unhygienic, not discarding the bones, at least the pile indicated Noctorno was tidy.

The table had a bunch of stuff on top and a shelf under it. The stuff on top included a long-handled frying pan, what looked like a rough, rudimentary coffeepot or kettle, a tin (which I picked up, opened, sniffed and happily smelled the strong aroma of coffee grounds), a jug (upon sniffing, I noted was water), a bottle (sniff test: whisky), a cup, a bowl and a spoon, fork and knife.

The shelf under it held a bunch of iron rods, their use I didn’t know.

I wandered around but except for the hides on the floor (which, upon closer inspection, I saw were also stitched together and the sheepskins were lying on a bed of long, dried grass which was another reason why the whole thing was so soft) there was nothing else to discover in the room.

I walked to the fire and stood beside it, as close as I dared, and held out my nightgown in an attempt to dry it.

“Right… now… what do I do?” I whispered, moving front to back, side to side by the fire shaking my nightgown and thinking.

I went to sleep at home. I woke up here.

Maybe I should go to sleep and I’d wake up at home.

The problem was, I was far from sleepy.

“I’m getting married to the man I love today, Aggie! Isn’t that marvelous?”

Rosa’s happy voice entered my head and I closed my eyes tight.

I’d fucked up. Big time. Of course, I had no way of knowing it but those around me, including Noctorno, Orlando and her beloved Dashiell (not to mention, Aggie, who I hoped was okay) didn’t know that.

And now Rosa was gone. Disappeared with one of those things.

I shook my head, opened my eyes and walked to the wood. Grabbing a stick, I moved back to the fire pit and carefully placed the split log on it while talking to myself.

“Don’t think of that. Don’t think of Rosa, of Aggie, of Dashiell. Think of how to get home. Think of how to get the hell out of here.”

I went back to the hides and tucked myself in, staring at the fire and thinking.

What could I have done? How did I get here?

I sifted through recent memories and all I knew about how this kind of shit happened in the movies.

I had not made a wish for a fairytale life from a weird fortune teller vending machine at a creepy magic store. In fact, I’d never been to a creepy magic store mainly because they were creepy.

I had not accidentally bumped into, therefore ticked off, anyone strange-looking, like a magician with white gloves and a top hat or a gypsy with long hair and flowing, jangly skirts.

I had not happened onto any object, say a magic vase or an enchanted crystal, and taken it home.

I had not sat by the light of a full moon on the banks of the Puget Sound and wished for a more exciting life surrounded by angry hot guys and birds that talked.

I hadn’t done any of that.

So why was I here? This stuff didn’t happen outside of the movies.

And yet it did because here I was, in a cave, in a nightshirt, with no shoes and a hot guy who apparently hated me that I didn’t like all that much either out finding us food.

Time wore on and I kept feeding the fire as I continued not to think of the sweet, singing Rosa being swept away, wondering if Aggie had been hurt, maimed or even worse while getting caught in that wind or contemplating why the Cora of this world married someone she clearly didn’t get along with while harboring, it would seem, a crush on her sister’s fiancé.

Instead, I wracked my brain to figure out what to do next.

Nothing came to me.

What I did notice was that the wood Noctorno brought in was very dry. It went up like tinder and to keep the fire going I was using a lot of it. Not to mention, he’d been gone a long time.

But the wood was dry, it was also split so someone had prepared it, so he hadn’t gone out into the rain and gathered it. And he didn’t have to go very far to get it so perhaps there was a stash somewhere. And if he was gone much longer, the supply he left me would be gone, the fire would go out and he’d get pissed.

I didn’t like him pissed (which seemed to be his only emotion) so I didn’t want to make him more pissed.

Therefore, since I needed something to do, and I didn’t particularly relish freezing to death in this world (or any world for that matter), I decided to see if I could find the wood stash.

It wasn’t hard. I pulled aside the hides, noticed the thunder and lightning were gone, as was the driving rain, but the day was still gray, dreary and a persistent drizzle was falling. The mouth of the cave was huge, the preliminary space, though, was wide but not vast. There were two hide covered antechambers, the one I was in and another one I discovered which was full of split logs, kindling and more weapons – these, lances, knives, daggers, hatchets, hammers, clubs and a couple more swords.

Hmm. Seeing as his cave was heavily armed, it seemed Noctorno earned that scar through his lifestyle.

Picking my way carefully on my bare feet, five times (with much smaller loads than Noctorno could bear) across the rough surface of the main space of the cave and back, I replenished the wood stock, threw a couple more logs on the fire and climbed back under the hides.

I barely got them settled over me when I heard the snort of a horse and hooves on the stones outside.

Noctorno was home.

Drat.

Not long after, the pelt at the opening was thrown back and Noctorno was there.

I looked at him. He looked at me.

Then he looked at the fire.

His head turned and he looked at the reloaded stash of wood.

Then his head swung back in my direction and he didn’t try to hide his surprise.

Jeez, how lazy was I in this world? Only a moron, or someone really idle, would hang in a dark, damp, cold cave and not keep the fire burning.

Noctorno moved to the fire and I noticed he was carrying something over his shoulder. He swung it around and dropped two small, bloody, skinless carcasses that were hanging on a stick to the stone floor by the fire.

I stared at the carcasses.

Holy crap!

“Are those… rabbits?” I asked, sounding as aghast as I was.

He had been moving toward the table but stopped, his gaze sliced back to me and his lip curled.

“My deepest apologies, Cora, I didn’t bag your favored venison,” he stated sarcastically.

I stared at him in horror.

We were already having Thumper for lunch and he was apologizing that we weren’t eating Bambi.

Ick!

I couldn’t eat rabbit. And furthermore, I wasn’t hungry. Not for rabbit, not for anything.

This was a first. I could always eat. But no way was I eating Thumper.

He continued to the table, grabbed the iron rods from the bottom shelf and moved back to the fire and I decided not to share the state of my appetite seeing as he was wet, he looked (still) angry and he’d gone out to kill a couple furry critters so we wouldn’t starve to death in a cave. Therefore, I figured I should keep my mouth shut on that score.

He set up the apparatus which was, essentially, a rotisserie, over the fire and he set this up with the rabbit carcasses on it. Then he added more logs to the fire. Then he left and came back (three times) with even more logs to reload the pile.

I guessed this meant we were in it for the long haul.

When he was done with his chores, he crouched by the fire probably for the same reason I stood by it, in order to get warm and use it to dry his clothes.

What he didn’t do was speak to me.

What he also didn’t do was rotisserie the rabbits. He didn’t turn the handle that was at one end of the iron rods at all. That meant one side would get roasted and the other wouldn’t. Furthermore, even though they were rabbits, which freaked me out, all their juices were falling into the fire. If they were captured and used to baste the darned things, they would end up more succulent and flavorful.

I decided not to share this culinary expertise with him either. Instead, I got out from under the hides, went to get the frying pan and then moved to the handle by the fire. I gathered as much of my nightgown as I could in my hand (which was a lot, seriously, there was a huge amount of material covering me), used it to shield my skin against the heat of the rod and squatted as ladylike as I could by the fire while using the handle and holding the pan under the rabbits to collect their juices.

I did this for awhile feeling his eyes on me before he spoke.

“By the gods, what are you doing?”

I didn’t look at him as I replied, “Rotisserie. You cook them like you were, one side will get charred, the other won’t cook. And everyone knows you need to baste meat.”

This was met with silence.

I kept turning then when I gathered enough juices I lifted the pan and poured them over the meat. Then I held the pan under again as I kept turning the handle.

Truth be told, the actions were tedious, the pan was heavy and my arms were beginning to ache. But at least I had something to do.

After awhile, he called, “Cora.”

“Yep,” I answered, lifted the pan, basted the meat then returned it under the carcasses, all the while turning the handle.

“Cora,” he repeated.

“I said, yep,” I replied.

“Look at me, woman,” he ordered.

I lifted my eyes to him. His face was blank but his eyes were alert and working and they were fastened on me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I told you,” I reminded him.

“What are you doing?” he repeated and I felt my brows draw together.

“Dude, I told you,” I returned.

His face turned cold. “Do not call me this name,” he commanded. “I do not like it.”

I stared at him. Then I sighed. Then I looked back to the fire and muttered, “Whatever.”

“Cora,” he called again and my gaze cut back to his face.

“What?” I snapped.

“Explain yourself,” he demanded.

“I already did.”

“When did you learn this?” he growled, tipping his dark head to my movements.

Uh-oh.

Lazy Cora of this world clearly did not know how to baste nor would she trouble herself to do it.

Oh well. Never mind.

I shrugged and said, “I heard it somewhere and if I have to eat rabbit, it might as well taste good.”

He studied me then said quietly, “You are strange.”

My hand on the handle stopped moving, I glared at him and bit out, “I’m not strange!”

His eyes moved over me then came back to mine before he kept speaking in a soft voice. “You are not you.”

Hmm. What did I do with this?

It was the perfect opener. The problem was, I was guessing since he had lots of weapons, and none of them were guns, grenades or bazookas, he rode a horse and he didn’t have a camp stove but an iron spit, that this world also didn’t have movies. So he probably wouldn’t respond positively to the fact that the me Cora of my world might have been (a guess) switched with the Cora of this world that he knew.

Then again, they had curses in this world that we didn’t have in my world so maybe they had magic. Maybe he’d get it.

“Uh…” I started but couldn’t think of what to say.

“It won’t work,” he told me and I blinked at him.

“What won’t work?”

“This change,” he stated.

Oh dear.

“Uh, Noc –”

“What you did was unforgiveable,” he cut me off and I sucked in both lips and bit them at the harsh look on his face. “I will protect you, keep you safe from harm, keep you alive as I vowed to do as your husband and because your sister holds a place in my heart. But for no other reason. You cannot carry logs and cook meat and make me think you sweet. I know you. I know this is not you. What I also know is that the only energy you will expend is to connive and maneuver to take best care of yourself. Don’t make the mistake of thinking me a fool.”

I swallowed then began, “I –”

“Planned it from the beginning,” he finished for me. “Hunting,” he went on, “gave me time to think. You took me because you had no choice but also because you could not have Dash but it meant you could have what I could give you, your home, your life lazy as you like it. But you schemed the whole time knowing that you couldn’t have Dash but not wanting Rosa to have him either. So you got what you could from the arrangement but made sure your sister didn’t get what she wanted most in this world.”

Wow. That hurt. And, obviously, it was totally untrue.

“That’s not true,” I whispered.

“I am no fool.”

“It isn’t true.”

“It’s pure you.”

I held his eyes and he stared into mine, his handsome, scarred face a cold, blank mask.

There was no way I was going to convince him. Apparently, the Cora of this world wasn’t all that great.

And I didn’t like being her.

This whole thing sucked, like a lot, but now it sucked even more.

I broke eye contact, started turning the handle again and used the gathered juices to baste the rabbits.

I looked at him again when he rose.

“Call me when they’re done,” he ordered, turned on his boot, strode to the opening, shoved the hides aside and disappeared.

I stared back at the fire and I told myself it was the smoke that made my eyes wet.

But it wasn’t.