I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
Edgar Allan Poe—A Dream Within A Dream
When Julianne first spots the sea her initial instinct is to run straight into the water and to hell with everything else. Dustfinger catches her by the back of her dress and hauls her back to him like a disobedient cat. She'd love to fight against that hold and dive into the sea, feel the water wash over her, but she knows doing that would make Dustfinger hurt more than he already does. His leg is bleeding again from the strenuous walk here, but he doesn't voice any complaints. "Is that the castle?" Meggie's somber voice pushes all thoughts of cool water out of Julianne's mind, dragging her gaze to the bald mountain cresting the forest. The castle sits atop the mountain, made of black stone and crowned in silver. More lines of it snake over the walls like the remnants of a snail trail and all the excitement in Julianne's heart turns to ash.
"The Castle of Night," Julianne recites," a dark growth by the sea, every stone of it polished with screams, its walls slippery with tears and blood."
"Is that how the old man described it in his book," Dustfinger asks. She nods, unable to tear her gaze away from the ugly thing up on the hill. "Thank God that it's not nearly as close as it seems."
"Are the towers really pure silver," Farid asks.
"Oh yes. That silver was dug up from the mountains, this one and others. Roast fowls, young women, fertile land, and silver. The Adderhead has a hearty appetite for many things." Julianne shivers, remembering the lizard-like way the Adderhead observed the people around him. He's a holy terror to be certain, but it's nothing like the cold ruthlessness of Capricorn. You never forget your first villain, she thinks hysterically.
"Let's get inside," Julianne murmurs, grasping Dustfinger's shirtsleeve. "I feel exposed out here." He leads them over to the sand-colored wall shielding a building from them. There's a wooden door set into the wall, weathered by time and salt spray, the bell above it covered in rust. "Do you really think we'll be safe this close to the Adder's nest?"
"As safe as we can hope. At any rate, there's no finer physician in either kingdom." He stands for a moment, listening for any sign of danger, before he rings the bell. At first Julianne thinks that they'll be forced to sleep on the beach tonight, but then she can hear a soft patter of fast approaching footsteps. The door opens a crack, just enough for an old woman to poke her head through.
"By all good spirits," she gasps, opening the door the rest of the way and beckoning them inside. She's a thin little thing, almost seeming to be made up of wrinkles. Dustfinger isn't tense around her and that tells Julianne all she needs to know. This woman, whoever she is, can be trusted. "He knew it was you! He said you were the only one that could get fire to obey you so well as to burn the mill. You wait and see, Bella, he said. What's the matter with your leg?"
"A little war wound is all," he says. He's smiling despite all his attempts not to and Julianne remembers that he'd basically grown up here. This is where he went after Basta carved up his face, where Roxane found him and helped him to the fairies. "Could you take us to the Barn Owl?"
"Is that marten in your pack? Don't you go letting him out."
"Of course not." He's careful not to mention the new marten fast asleep in Farid's pack, slipping inside with the others following after him.
"It's a good thing you came in through the back," Bella says as she leads them down a dark colonnade. She takes small steps, but they're as fast as her voice and Julianne struggles a little to keep pace on her sore feet. "The Adderhead has ears even here now, but he doesn't pay them enough for them to chance their luck in the infectious wing. I hope you gave those three enough leaves."
"I did." Julianne scrunches her nose up at the memory, ten minutes away from this place he had them all choking down bitter leaves. Five each, and she'd nearly puked them back up at his feet.
"Good." They pass a series of closed doors and then a courtyard that the colonnade wraps around, a group of sickly people sunning themselves. Farid brings a hand to his mouth, as though he could catch whatever these people have just by observing them. Meggie puts her hand in his despite the way her own cheeks lose their color. Dustfinger's gone pale, too, his scars standing out slightly against his pallor. It seems Julianne is the only one unaffected by the sight of the ill, growing used to it while working alongside Roxane for the better part of two years.
"Don't look as though you're about to fall down dead," Dustfinger admonishes in a whisper.
"Are you the kettle or the pot in this scenario," Julianne asks.
"The kettle, of course." She snorts but doesn't add anything else. With the way these three are looking around them it won't surprise her if a stiff wind blows them over. "Phobias haunting my every moment or not, our wounds will be well tended here and we'll be relatively safe." She wants to point out that he's already said this, but she bites the words back. He's flustered and scared of catching his death when he's just gotten his family back. Julianne can't judge him for that.
"He's right," Bella says. "If there's one thing the Adderhead fears it's death and the diseases that lead to it. All the same, you shouldn't let anyone else here see more of you than they must. If there's one sure lesson I've learned in life it's that you shouldn't trust much of anyone. Except for the Barn Owl, of course."
"What about me, Bella?" It's weird enough hearing him tease Julianne, but to hear him tease someone else is downright bizarre. Julianne's honestly starting to wonder if she might have fallen into an episode of the Twilight Zone.
"You least of all!" Bella sighs and pauses in her fast walk to glance at the sunning figures again. "It really is too bad that you have such an unmistakable face. Our patients could have done with a show."
"I could sing for them," Julianne offers, but Bella shakes her head.
"Even this far from Ombra, people have heard about a young woman matching your description. The Silver Prince's grandson is a picky child and news spreads fast when someone comes along who can wrangle him into something like obedience for more than a month or two." Bella starts walking again, just a couple of feet to a plain wooden door that she raps on with one arthritic knuckle. She nods at the door and raises a brow when no one moves, pushing it open and stepping aside.
The room on the other side of the door is dark, the lone window half-hidden behind a tall stack of books. Books cover every available surface of the room, stacked higher than Julianne, big and small and every kind of book in between. It smells of old paper, a perfume she's come to associate with a feeling of being home. If she closed her eyes and breathed deep, she could almost pretend she was back in the farmhouse where Dustfinger had found them.
"I knew it," a man shouts, jumping up from his seat when he spots them. "I knew you were back!" He hurries over to where they've stopped, embracing Dustfinger like a son. The real surprise is how Dustfinger relaxes into the touch, closing his eyes and letting out a soft breath. He pulls back after a moment to really study Dustfinger, looking much like Mo had once upon a time when Julianne had gone to explore the castle near Elinor's house for the first time. Julianne takes the chance to study the Barn Owl; a short man with gray hair and broad hands, resembling a mole with how he squints in the dim lighting. "Well, you look pretty good for a dead man," he states after a moment, clapping a hand against Dustfinger's shoulder. "How'd you hurt your leg? An accident at the mill?"
"How much do you know about what happened at the mill," Dustfinger asks.
"One of my best women healers was summoned to the castle to tend to two men bitten by fire. She brought back a strange tale about an ambush and a horned marten that spits fire. Basta seemed angrier than normal, hissing about a bird he planned to cage." Julianne closes her eyes for a moment, feeling sick to her stomach.
"Did she see the prisoners," Meggie asks hopefully. "They should be there by now, men and women. My parents are there." Meggie pauses long enough to take Julianne's hand in hers, nearly the same size now. "Our parents." The Barn Owl turns his gaze to them and Julianne is really getting tired of feeling like a bug under a microscope.
"You must be the girls the Black Prince's men told me of. Your father's the one they think is the Bluejay."
"Such bad luck tends to stick to their family," Dustfinger says dryly.
"Your family now, buckaroo," Julianne reminds him with an unimpressed look. "Our poor kid doesn't stand a chance." She's secretly hoping her bad luck and Dustfinger's will cancel each other out so that Dustin can have a shot at a good life. They have to catch a break sometime, so why shouldn't their son enjoy the perks?
"You," the Barn Owl starts, gesturing between Dustfinger and Julianne. "You two have a child together? I thought you were head over heels in love with Roxane."
"Did you react like this when Roxane gave birth to Jaime's son," Dustfinger asks, an edge of amusement to his words.
"I did after I made sure Jehan was healthy." Meggie clears her throat loudly, reminding them all of her question. Julianne feels sick to her stomach, the anxiety bubbling until she feels like she'll go crazy if she doesn't learn that her parents are okay. The Barn Owl looks ready to answer when a girl opens the door enough to poke her head inside. "What is it, Carla?"
"I was sent to ask if we have any eyebright left," she says, a nervous mumble. Carla is eying the strangers with some alarm and something else that Julianne doesn't like. Perhaps she's just growing paranoid the longer she's away from her son.
"Bella will get you some. Run along and ask her." Carla gives a hasty nod and leaves them alone, not bothering to close the door back. The Barn Owl gives a quiet grumble, shutting the door and bolting it to avoid any more interruptions. "Where were we?"
"The prisoners," Meggie reminds him, her fingers worrying the loose fabric of her dress. The Barn Owl nods his head and, for just a split second, Julianne thinks of Danny DeVito and nearly bursts into nervous laughter.
"Yes, the prisoners. Well, the physician responsible for people kept in the dungeons is a hack who I wouldn't entrust my worst enemy with. He's about as useful at healing as a newborn, but no one else could stand to be in that dungeon for very long. Luckily enough, they're not letting him anywhere near your father. My best woman healer goes up there everyday to tend to him."
"And how is he?" Her voice shakes and tears have gathered again, but Julianne is no better. She feels like a little girl again, doing her best to wake up from a nightmare and screaming for Mo. Mo is supposed to be big and brave to keep the boogeyman away, but who's going to be big and brave for him now?
"He's been badly wounded and he's lost a great deal of blood, but he's doing well. Much better, anyway, than we're letting the Adderhead know." Dustfinger is quick to wrap an arm around Julianne's waist when she starts to sway, her vision swimming with tears. "My healer has advised your father to not let anyone realize how much better he is so that we have more time. At the moment, there's nothing for you kids to worry about."
"He's going to be alright," Dustfinger whispers, stroking his fingers through her hair. "And we're going to get him back." She nods, the relief making her lightheaded.
"I have to ask about the weapon that wounded your father or else I'll go crazy." The Barn Owl pauses and gives them all a dry smile that's so reassuring Julianne nearly hugs him. "Well, crazier at any rate. Is the weapon something the Adderhead's armorers are creating in secret?"
"No, that weapon comes from a very different place. Not even the Adderhead with his long grasp can reach it." The Barn Owl relaxes slightly at the news, scratching at his chin. The thought of the Adderhead armed with a rifle is enough to make Julianne want to scream. He's awful enough as it is.
"My father would love this room," Meggie says, drawing them all out of nightmarish thoughts of modern weapons in the Adderhead's hands. There's a small smile that makes things seem a little less terrible, a faint glow to Meggie's cheeks.
"I was thinking that, too," Julianne says with her own smile. "And that sign on his workshop door that we used to read together." Meggie had run her small fingers over the carved letters, pronouncing each one as if they were precious gems tumbling past her teeth.
"Some books should be tasted, some devoured, but only a few should be chewed and digested thoroughly." Meggie nods and her hands drop to her sides as she relaxes a fraction. Books are a thing of comfort for the Folchart girls, audio or otherwise makes no difference as long as they're nearby. "Our father would probably spend hours in this room, gushing over the books, telling you that some of them won't last much longer if you don't do something about the beetles that are eating them."
"The Bluejay loves books," the Barn Owl asks. "That's unusual for a robber." He picks one of them up and caresses the pages lovingly, reminding Julianne of all the times she's seen Mo do the exact same thing.
"He's not a robber, he's a doctor like you. His patients are sick books."
"Then it really is true that the Adderhead has captured the wrong man." He makes a considering sound, a low hum that rumbles from his chest. He's nodding and muttering, finally meeting Meggie's stare again. His gaze flicks between the sisters, like he's trying to get a read on them. "So I suppose the rumors that he killed Capricorn are wrong as well."
"Oh no," Dustfinger says," that rumor is true." He glances out the window that's half covered by books, eyes glazing over as he pictures that scene. Julianne doesn't think she'll ever forget it, a few wondrous words from Mo and then the Shadow turning on its master like an ill-trained dog. "All he needed to do it was his voice. You ought to get him or Meggie to read for you sometime. Afterward, I'm sure you'll see your books in a different light."
"Really? And what about you, Songbird? Do you have a magic voice?"
"Only when I sing," she says, glancing down at the ragged remains of her shoes. "At least, well enough for my own family." Well enough for my own people, she thinks and has to suppress another laugh. God, she's starting to feel more and more like Pippin as the story progresses. Another knock on the door keeps the Barn Owl from probing any further.
"Will you be coming, master," a man's voice calls through the wood. "We've got everything prepared, but it'll be better if you make the first incision." The color drains out of Farid's cheeks faster than water out of a sink, the boy swaying slightly on his feet.
"I'll be there in a moment," the Barn Owl calls back. There's a faint sound of retreating footsteps and then he's glancing between the girls again with a deep-rooted sympathy in his eyes. "I truly hope the pair of you will return here with your father someday." Then his gaze flicks to Dustfinger, waiting patiently for the other man to look at him. "Does the Black Prince have any plans for the prisoners?"
"Not quite yet, I think," Dustfinger answers. "Have you heard anything about the other prisoners? The girls' mother is among them." Julianne feels shame slam into her like a punch to the gut. How could she not have asked about Resa? She had a smug argument about bad luck and not once did Resa cross her mind.
"I haven't heard anything about the others. You must excuse me, I'm teaching my apprentices how to cut off a foot without killing the man it's attached to." He makes it halfway to the door before he pauses again to look back at the group. "Did Bella tell you to stay on this side of the building?"
"She did and she explained why. I wouldn't have come here and put you all in danger if not for the incident at the mill. We'll be gone as soon as possible."
"Nonsense, you'll stay until your leg and the boy's fingers are better." He turns to look at Farid, who's looking more and more ready to faint dead away. It seems that ghosts aren't the only thing he fears. "Did you know that Dustfinger's never had an apprentice before? I was always pestering him to take someone under his wing and teach them how to work with fire, but he wouldn't listen to me. You must be someone special, young man." Farid can't manage a full blush as the Barn Owl leaves them, turning his worried gaze to Dustfinger.
"What is it?"
"He's cutting off feet," Farid whimpers.
"Yes, he's quite good at it, but I'm sure we'll all be allowed to leave with our fingers and toes attached."
"I think I need to sit down." Meggie helps him to a chair, brushing his hair back from his forehead. She doesn't kiss him, but she does keep a hand pressed against his cheek. I used to do that whenever she got a fever. Meggie had been a sick child, always coming down with something at the last minute. Julianne and Mo had spent hours tending to her until she was back to the giggling whirlwind they knew and loved.
The light is just starting to fade again when Bella rejoins them, tending to Farid's blisters and Dustfinger's leg. She reprimands the both of them for being careless enough to get hurt and Julianne thinks it's comedy gold until that shrewd gaze is fixed on her. Bella doesn't have to say anything, shut the hell up is implied by the arch of her brows and twist to her lips. When she's done playing doctor, she leads them back along the colonnade and to a room near the door they came in through.
"You'll be safe in here," she tells them, patting a wrinkled hand against Dustfinger's scarred cheek. "I'll bring you some food after you've had some rest." She leaves them to study their new quarters and Julianne lets out a pathetic sound when she spots the mattress.
"Juli, are you crying," Dustfinger asks, shocked.
"Look," she says, pointing," a mattress." It's a ratty old thing that's stuffed with straw and has definitely seen better days, but it looks like Heaven after so long of sleeping on grass and in trees. She flops onto it without ceremony, rubbing her cheek against the scratchy fabric and letting out a content sigh. Dustfinger drops down beside her, tugging and pulling until she's half-sprawled over his chest.
"Can we sleep on the beach tonight," Farid asks, pacing the room. Julianne's feet throb in time with each step and she's fairly certain they'll fall off if she's expected to move again. "I'll bet the sand is soft enough."
"It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere." Meggie snorts, dropping down on the other side of Julianne and snuggling close.
"Please, Dustfinger?"
"Tomorrow, perhaps. For now, let me sleep or I won't show you what I promised tomorrow night."
"Why not tonight?" Julianne's eyes have slipped closed, but she doesn't need to see the boy to know that he's getting indignant. It's all fake bravado to make up for the near fainting spell earlier.
"Because it's too windy tonight and my damn leg hurts. Do you need any more reasons? I'm sure I could make a list of them." There's a faint grumbling and some shuffled footsteps, then a new weight is joining them on the mattress. Dustfinger reaches out with one hand to make Farid join their puppy pile with a grumble of his own.
The scent of lavender and the feeling of family around her follows Julianne into a peaceful slumber.