Bitterburn (Gothic Fairytales #1) - Ann Aguirre Page 0,63

inward. A feather tick takes up most of the floor with a few wooden toys and rag dolls scattered about the edges. My father made the wooden toys and I sewed the dolls, more than I had at their age. I shouldn’t be bitter about it; there’s no point in dwelling on facts that can’t be changed.

Millie edges toward me and tugs at my sleeve. I tousle her hair and settle next to Tillie, propping her on pillows to resume my role as a nursemaid. It’s frightening how thin and she frail she looks. How long has it been since she ate anything? I understand Da’s desperation now, even if his indifference still hurts me.

“You’ve been giving everyone a hard time?” I say gently, blowing on the spoon.

Tillie sniffs and wipes her nose on her sleeve. “It doesn’t taste the same. And nobody else sings the song.”

In response, I sing the first line and feed her the first bite. Tillie brightens immediately, and she falls back into our old routine humming as she eats. In time the whole bowl disappears, and I get the tea into her too. If only the fever could be conquered so easily—with one bowl of soup and a cup of tea.

“Will you get me a cup of water?” I whisper to Millie.

They both look as if they’ve hardly bathed since I left. I can’t fix that while Tillie is sick, but I can do cool compresses. Millie scampers off and returns with water and a clean cloth. With practiced hands I dip and wring, set the compress on Tillie’s brow until it warms from the fever, then repeat. Eventually, Millie settles onto the pallet to sleep a little more, though it will be light soon.

Da and Catherine are still brewing ale with the supplies we have left, though the tap house closed last year. We couldn’t afford the rent, and before I left, we’d been subsisting on the bottles we sold. The accounts were overdue at various shops, and they’d been muttering about taking what little of value we possessed to pay for ingredients Da had ordered.

I don’t know what the situation is now, though I did notice that the larder was nearly bare when I was in the kitchen. Finally, Tillie drifts off to sleep and I head down to wash the dishes and get more cold water from the well. Silently Catherine feeds Millie a scant breakfast of porridge, no eggs or bread. Not even a glass of milk, just a weak herbal brew that makes Millie wrinkle up her nose.

“Why haven’t you heated water for her bath?” I ask Catherine pointedly.

She’s younger than my mother, strong enough to haul water and fill the tub in the kitchen. Normally I wash the two girls together, but even with Tillie sick, the other little one deserves care. Just looking at Catherine, she seems more worn down than usual, her narrow face pale, eyes dark shadowed. Everyone looks this way in Bitterburn town—downtrodden, hungry, and a bit desperate—but I’ve been gone for a while, living where I have enough to eat and less physical issues to worry about.

To my surprise, Catherine silently fetches the bucket and heads out to the well at the center of the village while I settle Millie in the kitchen with a few toys. Then I head back upstairs to check on her sister.

For the next two days, this becomes my new routine. Cook, tend to Tillie, bathe her face and hands, and repeat. I don’t eat much or sleep myself, partly for fearing that Tillie will get worse—that this time I can’t save her—and partly for worrying about what’s happening back at the keep.

Was Njål fearfully hurt when he read my note? Is he bothering to fix his own meals? He said before that before my arrival, he mostly starved since hunger can’t end his life.

Is he lonely right now?

It’s surprising how much I miss him, how much I want to get back to my life with him, even if it’s a strange one.

But I must save my sister first.

Then I’ll go home and keep my promise. I just wish it didn’t feel strangely as if I’m running out of time.

Deep the third night on toward dawn, Tillie’s fever breaks, leaving her clammy and weak, but from what I can tell there’s no fluid in her lungs and she’s breathing well. The main issue is that there’s little to eat so she can regain her strength. I wish I had

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