His Luna's Forgotten Scars novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Fox Song

Rowena eases Jory's lungs with her own hands and Lorna helps. Jory says she left him, and Garrick says the whole pack saw her go.

Jory's room was on the second floor, with a window that faced the creek.

I carried him up the stairs myself, and nobody stopped me.

Garrick walked behind us with his jaw tight.

Ewan stood at the foot of the stairs with two Ironwood guards in front of him.

"Let him come up," I said.

"He stays down," Garrick said.

"Then I stay down," I said, and I turned back.

Garrick looked at me for a long, ugly second.

Then he nodded to his guards, and Ewan came up the steps three at a time.

The bed was small, with a quilt of faded blue wolves.

I laid Jory on it, and he was burning.

His breath rattled, and his lips had gone the color of slate.

"I need hot water," I said. "A clean cloth, yarrow if you have it, and mullein, and honey."

I hadn't thought about it.

The words came out of my mouth in the right order.

"Lorna," Garrick said over his shoulder.

A woman was already in the doorway with a kettle in her hand.

She was about thirty, with straight blonde hair tied back and a healer's apron, and a kind, worried face.

"I heard him from the kitchen," she said. "Oh, thank the Moon. Tell me what you need, Rowena, I'll do anything."

She knew my name, and her voice shook with relief.

I almost cried at how glad she sounded.

"This is Lorna," Garrick said. "She has kept him breathing since you left."

"Barely," Lorna said, and bit her lip. "I've done all I know."

She set the kettle on the stove in the corner and handed me honey, mullein, and a cloth without being asked twice.

She had a little tin tucked into her apron pocket, and she touched it twice as she worked.

I didn't think anything of it.

I steeped the mullein with my own hands, and I rubbed warm honey and yarrow onto Jory's chest.

I tipped a spoon of tea between his lips.

Ewan stood against the wall and said nothing, his arms crossed.

The cough eased at the third spoonful.

His breath started to come in long, soft pulls.

The grey went out of his lips.

Lorna put her hand over her mouth.

"I couldn't get it to do that," she whispered. "Not once. It's you. It has always been you."

I kept stroking Jory's hair.

His eyes opened a crack, grey and glassy.

He looked at me.

For a heartbeat, his whole small face softened, and he said, "Mama?"

Then he remembered.

I watched it happen.

His mouth pressed flat, and he turned his head toward the wall.

"You left," he said.

"Jory."

"You left in the night, and you didn't even come say bye." His voice was thick. "Father said you didn't want us. He said you'd never come."

My throat burned.

"I don't remember leaving," I said. "I don't remember anything, sweetheart. But I'm here now."

"That's a lie."

"I crossed the creek for you today."

He was quiet for a while.

Then, in a very small voice, he said, "Sing the fox song."

"I don't know it."

"You do. You made it up."

He closed his eyes, and he waited.

I opened my mouth with no idea what would come out.

A tune came.

It was slow and low and silly, about a fox who stole a lantern to see his own tail.

I had never sung it in my life, and I sang every word.

Jory's breathing slowed, and his fingers curled into the quilt.

Behind me, I heard Ewan make a sound.

It was soft, like something had hit him in the chest.

I didn't turn around.

When Jory slept, I tucked the quilt under his chin and stood.

My knees almost gave out.

Lorna touched my elbow. "Sit, Rowena. I'll watch him."

"I can stay," I said.

"You've done what I couldn't." Her smile was warm and tired. "Go and rest. I'll sit up."

Garrick was waiting in the hall.

He had his back to the wall and his arms folded, and he didn't look angry any longer.

He looked tired, and that was worse.

"Thank you," he said, stiffly.

"Don't."

"You can't leave him," he said. "The cough started the night you walked out. It comes every night, and it stops only when you're in the house."

"That's not how lungs work."

"Then tell me how they work. You taught my healer."

I looked at Ewan.

He didn't speak.

I took a breath, and I looked back at Garrick.

"I'll come back tomorrow," I said. "At noon. I'll look at him, and I'll bring my own herbs."

"And tonight?"

"Tonight I'm going home."

Behind the closed door, at the end of the hall, Jory began to cough again.

It was only a small dry cough, but it went through me.

Garrick didn't turn toward the sound.

"Lorna says his lungs will not last until the full moon," he said. "That is eleven days."

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