Into the Dim (Into the Dim, #1)(46)

“Collum” was all I could manage to say.

He stepped out onto the stoop, arms folded across his chest. His normal irritated demeanor seemed like play time at Chuck E. Cheese compared with this. He squinted, glaring at me. “Where,” he asked through stiff lips and clenched jaw, “the bloody f*ck have you been?”

My head reared back as if he’d slapped me. Before I could respond, before the angry words could leave my lips, he reached out and snatched me to him. Strong arms wrapped me up, pressing me against his chest as he rocked me back and forth, murmuring into my hair. Shocked into an exhausted, melty state, I sighed and let my bruised head rest against him.

As if the embrace caught him by surprise, his arms dropped abruptly to his sides and he stepped back. “Get inside,” he said, his eyes scanning the street beyond the gate.

Inside a low-beamed front entrance hall, Collum’s eyes lingered on the bandage wrapped around my head. Some of the anger that raged in his eyes softened. “What happened?”

I tried to explain, but the words jumbled on my tongue.

When I swayed, he scooped me up, carrying me like a child past a set of stairs that led up to a second level, and into a larger room where he deposited me in a high-backed chair near a central fire pit. “Jesus, you’re a right mess.” He thrust a pewter goblet into my hands. “Drink.”

Firelight flickered off moldering tapestries. Cobwebby beams disappeared into the shadows above as the swirl of alcohol, cinnamon, and cloves rose up to envelop my face. I clenched the cup, letting the heat soak into my frozen fingers.

“Do you need a doctor?”

“No.” My voice came out raspy. “I’m okay. I just—”

We both looked up at the sound of feet pounding down the steps. Before I could blink, Phoebe flung herself at me so hard, I nearly dropped the cup.

“Great fuzzy sheep balls, Hope! We feared you were dead.” On her knees at my feet, she looked up into my face. “We looked and looked for you. Collum just got back from searching. I stayed here the last hour, hoping you’d show.”

“That’s enough,” Collum interjected. “She’s here now. Give the girl some air.”

Phoebe gave my legs another painful squeeze before she stood. Though Collum still looked disgruntled, I grinned up at both of them, feeling stupidly grateful to have real friends for the first time in my life.

When I took a huge gulp, the spicy, pungent liquid scalded my throat.

Phoebe chuckled at my expression. “Mulled wine.” She plucked the goblet from my fingers and refilled it from the pitcher warming on a flat stone near the fire. “With cinnamon and cloves. There’s beer, but”—she made a face—“it’s sore bitter. And when I asked Hilde for some boiled water, she looked at me like I was mental. Told me I could keep the bath water when I was done washing if I liked.”

“Who’s Hilde?”

“Housekeeper. Comes with the place. Wait till you meet her. Gah, she’s a piece of work, that one. And just get your knickers out of that twist, Collum MacPherson. Hope’ll tell us what happened when she’s ready. Gads, what happened to your head? Oh! You must be starving. Come on.”

She tugged me to my feet, chattering as we walked across the flagstone floor toward a wide doorway. I noticed Collum staring at me, his normal dour expression returned.

“Don’t mind him,” Phoebe said. “He was worried witless, and don’t let him tell you different. I knew you’d find your way, though, with that epic brain of yours. But Collum insisted on searching. Kept yammering, ‘No man left behind.’”

I giggled at her spot-on impression.

“Tell you true, we were both scared. Almost as bad as when this horrible Spanish Inquisitor bloke tried to arrest Gran for heresy.” She patted my hand. “Now, let’s get you something to eat. You look fair dreadful.”

“Gee, thanks.” My hand went to the bandage. My hair poofed over it like a mushroom cap.

Thank God the mirror isn’t common yet.

Collum followed at our heels, grumbling under his breath as we passed into a room with a long, ornately carved dining table. Another central pit blazed, sending out tendrils of heat.

Weariness pulled on me like gravity. My feet tangled in my skirts. Stumbling, I caught myself on one of the massive, faded wall tapestries. I looked up to see an ancient ship being dragged down by an enormous kraken while the tiny figures on board screamed in terror.

I knew exactly how they felt.

“Sit. Sit.” Phoebe guided me into one of the two carved armchairs near the fire and bustled to a chunky buffet near the far side of the room. The pain was back, and my eyeballs now pulsed with each boom of my heartbeat.

“Here you go.” Phoebe handed me a fresh cup of wine, sloshing a few drops of thick red liquid onto my lap. “Tell us, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” I managed a wobbly smile. “Just a headache.”

I slumped against the high back of the chair and studied the smoke curling up from the crackling flames. It slithered over blackened beams that crisscrossed the low ceiling, before finding its way out a hole in the roof.

Phoebe pushed open a door near the back of the room and called, “Hilde? Can you bring some food in for my sister?”

The next few swallows went down way better than the first. Warmth spread out from my gut, and I started talking, leaving nothing out. When it was over, I slumped deeper in my chair.