I couldn't respond – the words wouldn't come, not yet. I nodded.
'Come then, we'll get you downstairs in front of the fire, tend your wounds and feed you.' She arched an eyebrow. 'But not before we wash you. You stink!'
It was then I realised I was covered in filth – grease, sawdust and strings of vomit. I glanced over her shoulder at the floor. 'I was sick.'
'I can see that,' said the woman. 'With everything you've been through today, I'm not surprised. You need care and rest – lots of it!' The woman looked me up and down, the gentlest of smiles on her lips. 'So, you're called Tallow?' The woman looked at me so boldly, unafraid, relaxed even. It took my breath away.
'Y– yes.'
Before I could move out of reach, she ran a finger down my arm. My nerves were aflame. She lifted it to the light, examining the grey fat and grit that coated the tip. 'How appropriate,' she said. 'Unoriginal, but appropriate.' She smiled again and I found my lips curling until the split on my lip tightened; I winced, my hand rushing to my mouth to prevent any sound escaping. 'Come on,' said the woman, frowning, but not in anger. 'Your wounds won't heal themselves. Not yet, anyway. The old bitch has seen to that.'
Wrapping an arm around my waist, she practically carried me down the stairs. While I wanted to focus on the feel of her body next to mine, her warmth and strength, I couldn't move past what she'd called Quinn. I didn't know whether to discourage or cheer her. I was dumbfounded by the turn of events. For some reason, this miserable night had brought a champion to my room. But I decided that I would keep my counsel, at least until I knew why this woman was here.
'By the way, my name's Katina,' said the woman as we reached the kitchen. She pulled a chair closer to the fire and sat me in it. She kneeled beside me. She was so tall that our faces were level. I immediately lowered my head and dropped my eyes, but my heart fluttered. Katina placed a strong finger under my chin and forced it up. 'Look at me,' she whispered. 'Don't be afraid.'
I grew hot and then cold. My pulse pounded in my ears. But something within me began to respond to Katina's coaxing. Against my better judgement, against all that I'd had drummed into me my entire life, I threw aside caution and slowly returned her earnest gaze.
There was a sharp intake of breath. 'By the gods!' said Katina, staring. 'I thought I was right when I saw you at the taverna, but I never expected ... What the legend says is true. The child with mirror eyes.' She placed her warm palms on either side of my face and gave a long, heartfelt sigh. 'Do you know how much trouble you've put me through, young lady?'
'I'm no lady ... I'm a –'
Katina cut me off. 'You can stop that particular pretence right now, my girl. I know exactly what you are and so do you. It's time at least to think of yourself as female. You owe yourself that.'
I wanted to leap from my seat and run into the night. I wanted to put as much distance between me and this woman's treacherous words as I possibly could. My mind raced, my body tingled. I wanted to deny her, accuse her, most of all escape her. But another part of me whispered of liberation. Somewhere, deep in my heart, something unlocked. I allowed myself, for the first time in memory, to feel – not only my body, but my real self. The me I'd kept buried and hidden my whole life. It was not Katina I needed to fight, it was myself.
I screwed up my eyes as my lips began to tremble. I slowly raised my hands until they covered Katina's. She gave a soft gasp and with great care slipped them out from under mine until my own flesh rested against my battered face.
Tears spilled and trickled over the back of my hands. I followed their course with my fingers, ignoring their sting. A huge sigh escaped me and I opened my eyes. It was over. My masquerade was finished.
'You're right. I ... I'm a girl.' The idea was strange, foreign. I wasn't even sure I liked it very much.
'Come then, we'll get you downstairs in front of the fire, tend your wounds and feed you.' She arched an eyebrow. 'But not before we wash you. You stink!'
It was then I realised I was covered in filth – grease, sawdust and strings of vomit. I glanced over her shoulder at the floor. 'I was sick.'
'I can see that,' said the woman. 'With everything you've been through today, I'm not surprised. You need care and rest – lots of it!' The woman looked me up and down, the gentlest of smiles on her lips. 'So, you're called Tallow?' The woman looked at me so boldly, unafraid, relaxed even. It took my breath away.
'Y– yes.'
Before I could move out of reach, she ran a finger down my arm. My nerves were aflame. She lifted it to the light, examining the grey fat and grit that coated the tip. 'How appropriate,' she said. 'Unoriginal, but appropriate.' She smiled again and I found my lips curling until the split on my lip tightened; I winced, my hand rushing to my mouth to prevent any sound escaping. 'Come on,' said the woman, frowning, but not in anger. 'Your wounds won't heal themselves. Not yet, anyway. The old bitch has seen to that.'
Wrapping an arm around my waist, she practically carried me down the stairs. While I wanted to focus on the feel of her body next to mine, her warmth and strength, I couldn't move past what she'd called Quinn. I didn't know whether to discourage or cheer her. I was dumbfounded by the turn of events. For some reason, this miserable night had brought a champion to my room. But I decided that I would keep my counsel, at least until I knew why this woman was here.
'By the way, my name's Katina,' said the woman as we reached the kitchen. She pulled a chair closer to the fire and sat me in it. She kneeled beside me. She was so tall that our faces were level. I immediately lowered my head and dropped my eyes, but my heart fluttered. Katina placed a strong finger under my chin and forced it up. 'Look at me,' she whispered. 'Don't be afraid.'
I grew hot and then cold. My pulse pounded in my ears. But something within me began to respond to Katina's coaxing. Against my better judgement, against all that I'd had drummed into me my entire life, I threw aside caution and slowly returned her earnest gaze.
There was a sharp intake of breath. 'By the gods!' said Katina, staring. 'I thought I was right when I saw you at the taverna, but I never expected ... What the legend says is true. The child with mirror eyes.' She placed her warm palms on either side of my face and gave a long, heartfelt sigh. 'Do you know how much trouble you've put me through, young lady?'
'I'm no lady ... I'm a –'
Katina cut me off. 'You can stop that particular pretence right now, my girl. I know exactly what you are and so do you. It's time at least to think of yourself as female. You owe yourself that.'
I wanted to leap from my seat and run into the night. I wanted to put as much distance between me and this woman's treacherous words as I possibly could. My mind raced, my body tingled. I wanted to deny her, accuse her, most of all escape her. But another part of me whispered of liberation. Somewhere, deep in my heart, something unlocked. I allowed myself, for the first time in memory, to feel – not only my body, but my real self. The me I'd kept buried and hidden my whole life. It was not Katina I needed to fight, it was myself.
I screwed up my eyes as my lips began to tremble. I slowly raised my hands until they covered Katina's. She gave a soft gasp and with great care slipped them out from under mine until my own flesh rested against my battered face.
Tears spilled and trickled over the back of my hands. I followed their course with my fingers, ignoring their sting. A huge sigh escaped me and I opened my eyes. It was over. My masquerade was finished.
'You're right. I ... I'm a girl.' The idea was strange, foreign. I wasn't even sure I liked it very much.
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