“Don’t talk, Isabel.” Rowena searched the room for water. A bucket lay on its side, empty. “I’m going to find you some water.” Rowena took the bucket and rushed back to Selene’s cell, where she had seen a half-full bucket. Selene allowed Rowena to take half of her own water and Rowena bolted back to Isobel. Rowena cupped her hands and filled them with water but Isobel was too weak to move. Rowena managed to drizzle some water into Isobel’s mouth and wet her split lips. When she brought the torch closer, she drew back in horror. Isabel’s beaten body was covered with dry blood, crusted over gaping wounds the size of apples. Most of Isabel’s right breast had been torn away leaving a black festering wound taking up most of her chest. Her left hand had been crushed, leaving her fingers short red stumps with flat ends. She had holes on her feet similar to the ones found on the dead woman in the first cell she opened. The realization that Isabel would not live through the night hit Rowena hard, sending her into deep hysterical sobs. Isabel’s face was contorted with pain rippling throughout her tiny body. Her eyes began to dart back and forth and she shook wildly. Rowena took the pouch that hung around her neck out from under her gown and pulled out the moonstone, which was glowing. She placed the blue stone in Isabel’s uncrushed hand and wrapped her fingers around the stone, then encased her hand with her own hands. With closed eyes, Rowena prayed. “Dearest Goddess. Remove the fear from Isabel’s heart and the pain from her body this night. Bring her peace and shelter her with your love and take her safely to the summer land. So mote it be.”
Rowena opened her eyes, feeling the moonstone begin to pulse in their hands. To her amazement, tiny wisps of blue light shot out of the stone and landed on Isabel’s chest disappearing into her pain-ridden body.
The distorted expression on Isabel’s face turned into a relieved smile as more blue light poured into her body. Her eyes flew open, revealing her usual bright blue eyes. She looked at Rowena gratefully and smiled widely. “Thank you, Rowena, my dear friend. I’m going home… Finally, I’m going home,” she whispered. Her delicate voice came to a close. Rowena smiled bravely for Isabel’s sake but couldn’t stop her tears from falling.
She rocked gently, holding Isabel’s body tightly in her arms as she passed over, safe and warm in Rowena’s arms. She had a peaceful smile on her lips when she closed her eyes for the last time.
Rowena lowered her head onto Isabel’s shoulder and cried until the tears stopped flowing. She lifted her head and kissed Isobel’s forehead, taking one last look at her friend’s beautiful face. She gently removed the moonstone from Isabel’s hand, placing it back in the pouch and hiding it under her gown.
She forced herself up, unable to feel her legs as they had gone numb from bending for so long. This didn’t worry her too much as she limped her way to the doorway. The moldy bread fell onto the floor making a thumping sound as she tipped the baskets upside down leaving the bread for the rats to gnaw. Then she picked up the wicker baskets and rang the brass bell. She wiped her tear-streaked face with her sleeve and tried her best to look neutral, wondering how she was going to keep her mounting anger from showing.
Chapter Twelve
Oakwoods Now
Brenna sat up in bed, her cheeks tacky with tears. She didn’t know what had woken her but she was glad. If she’d had to witness any more of that memory, she’d need an anti-depressant to get out of bed. She glanced at the bright alarm clock and waited for her eyes to adjust before she could read the numbers which look liked blurry neon lights. Three in the morning. Warily, she rubbed her eyes and lay her head back down on the pillow. Hoping that she wouldn’t have any more dreams she drifted back to sleep.
There was no sign of the sun when Brenna finally woke up, refreshed after a peaceful, dreamless sleep. She turned over in the warm bed, stretching her arms out in front of her. The rain continued bucketing down on the roof, filling the room with tranquil tinkling. She hopped out of bed and walked toward the window. Did the sun not come out today at all? Puzzled, she checked the time. Expecting to see around seven a.m., her eyes boggled when she looked at the alarm clock finding that it was closer to seven p.m.
“Shit!” If she didn’t butt into gear, she would miss dinner with Ronan. Did her heart just flutter at the thought of him? Surely not.
Water blasted out of the shower as Brenna turned it onto full power. Her mind raced. What on earth she was going to wear? She scoffed. Like Ronan was going to notice what she was wearing. There were far more important matters. Still, she hadn’t packed with dates with good looking men in mind. Not that it was a date. Deciding that she would pick her outfit after her shower she jumped into the steamy cubicle and washed quickly. Then she quickly toweled off before brushing her teeth.
After trying five different shades of lipstick she settled on a shimmery peach shade that complimented her hair. It wasn’t because she wanted to impress Ronan. What was it Oprah used to say? ‘Get cute for you!’ Okay, so she spent quite a bit longer on her makeup than usual. Than ever actually. Bundling her hair onto her head, she set it in place with hairclips leaving a few strands to frame her face.
She looked into the mirror studying herself closely. Satisfied with her make-up, she opened her suitcase. Clothes flung through the air as she searched for something decent. Why did she pack such sensible garments? Feeling like a fool for acting like a sixteen-year-old going out on a first date, she sighed. She’d mainly packed jeans and t-shirts. Settling on the lacy black dress she had worn to the diner with Jeff, she slipped it over her head and paired it with the pair of black high heeled shoes she was glad she had packed.
Tapping her foot on the soft carpet, she kept her eyes on the clock, waiting for it to turn eight. A knock on the door made Brenna startle. She straightened her dress and smacked her lips together ensuring her lipstick was even. Checking her hair was secure with one hand she walked towards the door with wobbly legs and turned the handle.
Ronan stood in the doorway holding a bunch of white frangipanes wrapped in purple tissue. Rain poured down onto his head but he didn’t seem to mind. “How did you know they were my favorite?” she asked as he passed her the flowers.
“I know a lot about you, Brenna,” he smiled. A nervous laugh escaped from Brenna’s lip. On a normal day, she might find that comment a bit stalker-like, but considering the circumstances, she let it go. His dark probing eyes zeroed in on hers, sending hot tingles sizzling down her spine. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy made her feel this giddy. If ever.
“Well, I’ll uh, just find these some water.”
She scurried into the bathroom and dumped her toothbrush out of its holder and filled it with water. She arranged the flowers in the makeshift vase as best she could and left them sitting on the TV. Knowing her luck, they would tumble over as soon as she left.
Ronan held out his arm for her to take. She held up a finger signaling for him to wait, and scoured the room for her handbag. When she found it sticking out from under the bed, she decided the big black woven sack didn’t go with her outfit, so she stuffed her keys inside her wallet. Ronan entwined his arm with hers, and escorted her to the balcony, shutting the hotel door behind them. His firm arm was warm and comforting. She had to ignore an urge to squeeze his considerable bicep. They descended the creaky staircase.