Maria was still debating trying to climb up the now-clear slope to go look for her saber– it was still a gift from the king after all– when the armed mob of villagers, led by Larna Smith, arrived. They stared in horrified awe at the enormous corpse lying half-sunk in the water, its head lying several feet away. In death, it had fallen in a rather ungainly position, limbs flopping all over like a puppet with its strings cut or a ragdoll carelessly kicked about.
Someone looked at all the burning trees and started organizing a fire fighting brigade, sending people to go back for buckets, pumps and hoses. People moved at it with surprising efficiency. But then, according to Rafael this area had Flame Butterflies. They were probably used to dealing with spontaneous fires at all hours.
"Oh, good," Larna Smith said as people, with only occasional gawking at the beast, started doing what they could to put out fires, wetting shirts to slap them on burning trees. "When the dome of fog vanished, Rafael said you'd still be alive, but I wasn't sure. Glad to see you're all right."
"'All right' might be an overstatement," Maria said, quickly scanning the mob, but none exhibited any dark smoke from their heads. "The one responsible for this managed to escape. I was too occupied to be able to pursue her."
Larna Smith looked at the dead beast. "Yes, I suppose you were," she said. "I've had her description passed around, and Rafael is talking to the Ministry. Since things like that don't just come out of nowhere," she nodded at the corpse, "the Royal Guard is sending wyvern riders, in case this is the Abyss or the Flame of Chaos manifesting. It isn't, but it looks enough like one to warrant a response. You need to get back to the inn."
Maria frowned. "I need to recover my weapon," she said. "And–"
"Maria," Larna Smith interrupted. "Get to your mother and make sure she's all right."
Maria blinked. Then she was gone, accelerating towards the town.
Maria spotted Rafael on a rooftop, holding the magic tool very high above his head for height and talking loudly at it. Many people were milling about, staring towards the lake and fires the beast had started. The beast's corpse was just barely visible as a dark shape in the water. Someone had brought out braziers, and people were huddling around them for warmth and light.
She passed all this by, heading for the inn they were staying at. She was pleased to note her carriage was standing outside it, the horses looking unharmed from their excursion. People were giving it a wide berth. She took them inside and had the inn's grooms take care of them before she went upstairs to one of the rooms they'd taken.
Her mother was lying on the bed there, looking– and smelling– properly bathed, and wearing a simple dress that seemed a bit tight around the chest. Likely Miss Shelley's. Miss Shelley herself was sitting next to her on the bed, legs curled up beneath her. She had also changed, shedding the dress she had been wearing on the rescue, which had been soiled, stained and muddied in many ways.
At Maria's entrance, she looked up. "The bath is ready," she said. "You might want to change. You wouldn't want her to wake to the smell of blood."
For a moment, Maria just stood there. Then, with an internalized snarl as she couldn't really deny the good advice, she turned and entered the bath, stripping out of her admittedly muddy, filthy, sooty and blood-covered hunter's garb.
The water was tepid, but she washed quickly and slightly haphazardly, like a child rushing through dinner to get out of the dining hall before the ravishing started. She went back still toweling herself dry, to be met with a long man's shirt.
"With vice-director's compliments," Miss Shelley said. "You will be wishing to sleep close to your mother, will you not? If she wakes up, your preferred sleepwear would be awkward."
For the first time in her life, Maria was envious of Katarina Claes. She really, really wanted a personal maid this capable!
"Thank you Miss Shelley," Maria said in lieu of trying to tempt the woman away from her current mistress with an outlandish hiring offer. She put on the shirt over her nakedness.
Then, because she wasn't a child, but a mature, educated woman, she checked over her mother's vitals. Her temperature was down to normal, but some of her ribs still felt damaged. Still, Rafael had clearly done what she could.
Her legs curled up beneath her, sitting opposite Miss Shelley, Maria called her eldritch light and began systematically healing her mother…
They were in Hinderstap for three more days, mostly because Maria's mother needed clothes and she needed some laundry done. During the time, wyverns carrying knights of the Abyss Watch arrived to secure the corpse of the beast and to delve into the caverns under the demolished cabin for signs of the Abyss.
They found none, just some violent dark spirits, a giant insane rat, and a nest of giant spiders. The knights took care of the former and burned the latter, as no one wanted giant spiders about. They even agreed to help trim down the numbers of ogres in the area, who had all been moved from their home ranges because of Dark Magic and were now wandering around being a danger to everyone.
All this time, Maria's mother slept. Fortunately, they managed to get some food down her throat, and Maria and Larna were eventually able to fashion an intravenous drip to keep her fed if it lasted for much longer, so her life was physically not at risk.
Yet it left the fear that she would never wake, for the Dark Magic wielder's words haunted Maria.
The woman's probably hollowed by now, every memory and feeling drained away, an empty shell…
Was her mortal shell all that remained? Or would Maria's mother become a hollow out of myth, attacking those with souls to feed the emptiness within her?
In the end, they arranged to carry her, still sleeping, on the carriage. They cushioned her head and neck with a pillow, and Miss Shelley, being the taller of the two of them, sat next to her so she could adjust Maria's mother's weight and balance as needed.
The two of them traveled back alone, as Larna Smith and Rafael had to stay in Hinderstap to deal with the aftermath of what happened. The remains of the hidden chambers underground would be confiscated and documented, as they pertained both to Rafael's Vengeance and Dark Magic research.
Larna was able to find Maria's sword before they left and returned it to her. Fortunately, it hadn't broken– which would have been expensive to fix– but it would likely need the attentions of a blacksmith to repair the wear and tear on it.
Fortunately, she had other weapons in case they were accosted.
Given it started raining as soon as she, Miss Shelley, and her mother left the vicinity of the lake to return to her manor, she was unlikely to have the need. It would take a truly desperate highwayman to waylay them in this raging downpour.
"Stand and deliver! Choose, your money or your life?"
Maria gave the highwayman pointing a crossbow at her through the window an unamused stare. "Take care of mother," she said to Miss Shelley, who nodded, looking equally unamused and annoyed.
Maria stepped down.
"Well look here lads. Looks like we won't be lone– CHOSEN LORD, MY ARM! SHE BROKE MY ARM!"
After breaking several bones and beating the desperate highwaypersons– of the five, two were women– with their own clubs and dragging them behind the carriage until they reached the next town, Maria had to concede that perhaps there were some people willing to waylay them in this downpour.
They were two days into the journey back to her lands when Maria's mother finally roused.
It was only briefly, which Maria missed as she was negotiating a new blanket for her mother to sleep on in the carriage, but anne had been present at her side, as she had always been.
Anne's gaze had never left Alice's face as the maid sat vigil in the latest inn room they had taken for the night, and so saw the small fluttering of her eyelids, the first since she had been rescued.
"Alice?" Anne said softly, hopefully. "Alice, I'm here… "
Her eyelids rose slowly, like waves on a rising tide, constantly wavering, every crest seeming to sink, but eventually, those eyes opened, and Anne was looking at beautiful, if bleary, blue eyes.
"… Anne…?" came the slightly slurred, quiet words.
"I'm here, my warm ember," Anne said softly. "I'm here…"
"… is this a dream…?" Alice asked dazedly, seeming to look through her.
"No, it's real. I'm real," Anne said, gently squeezing Alice's hand. "Your daughter saved you. You're safe."
"…M…ria…?" Alice said, sounding confused.
"Safe," Anne said. "Alice, does it hurt anywhere? How do you feel?"
But her eyes had fluttered closed again, and her breathing softened even more as she drifted back to sleep.
Anne released a sigh of relief she hadn't known she was holding. So, not hollowed, as the legends described it. No trying to feed on the souls of others by killing them. That was something, right? Perhaps she was just really tired and recovering. One could recover from anything, with enough rest and care…
Anne hoped this was a sign of improvement. Perhaps she would wake properly soon…
