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.