“Yes,” I croaked.
“We need to clean this,” Sybil said slowly. “It’s going to hurt, but it will help. Do you understand?”
She had to repeat herself a few more times before I managed to nod. I couldn’t imagine anything hurting worse than what I was already experiencing.
But I was wrong.
When Sybil and Peter began their work, pain crashed through me so fiercely that the room blurred. I wanted to scream, but even breathing hurt. Tears welled in my eyes, and Isqueezed them shut. James slipped something between my teeth to bite down on, and Little John took my hands in his.
His grip was steady and I clung to his hand as long as I could. When the rolling waves of blackness came, I welcomed them.
I didn’t want to feel anything anymore.
BARON
So, this was Sherwood Forest.
I had navigated around the perimeter of the forest innumerable times, but I had never actually entered its heart before. This was where Laurel belonged.
After James left with Laurel to take her back to Sherwood Forest, I had returned to Nottingham Castle prepared to quit on the spot. I didn’t care whether or not Prince John suspected me. I didn’t care whether the mission collapsed or whether I ever returned to his service. All I cared about was getting back to Laurel.
But it hadn’t been necessary.
Before I arrived, several soldiers had informed Prince John of my skill as a tracker, and the moment he saw me, he showed me the note and demanded that I go after Robin Hood. I assured him that I would not rest until I found the person responsible for the break in and theft. That, at least, was true.
Once I had traveled into the heart of Sherwood Forest, a teenage boy appeared along the path. For one brief moment, I amused myself by wondering whether he meant to rob unwarytravelers, but he made no such attempt with me. Instead, he looked me over and asked what business I had there.
“I came to see Laurel,” I said.
The boy’s face fell at once. “She ain’t doing too well, me mam says.”
Fear closed around my heart. “Take me to her.”
He turned and trotted off, though trot was perhaps too generous a word. The boy walked with a heavy limp, and I doubted he could move any faster. Still, it took every scrap of restraint I had not to bark at him to hurry. Each step felt too slow.
We passed tidy little huts, small gardens, laundry lines, and cookfires. A training area stood to my right, and I saw a basket full of the same kind of throwing knives I had seen Laurel use so many times. A pang struck deep in my chest. She should have been out there. She should have been laughing, practicing, showing off, and pretending not to enjoy every moment of admiration she earned. She shouldn’t be wasting away on bedrest.
The boy pointed toward a small cabin. “She’s in there.”
Without even a word of thanks, I rushed to the door and flung it open.
The interior was dim, and when my eyes adjusted, I saw Laurel lying on a stuffed straw tick, completely still. Her face was still pale and she looked smaller than she ever had. The hut was empty except for a young man about Laurel’s age sitting beside her with a jar of paste in one hand. He used the other to scoop out bits and smooth them carefully onto her injuries. Laurel’s shirt had been cut short to expose her midriff, and part of her stomach was covered with the brightly colored cream.
The healer looked up sharply. “Who are you?” he asked.
I ignored him and went straight to Laurel’s bedside. The young man shifted as if to block me, and I pushed himaside without much care for his squawk of protest. Laurel was sleeping. I covered her hand with mine, noticing as I did so that her hand was no longer cold, but feverish.
At least she was still breathing.
“You can’t be in here,” the healer hissed from behind me.
I rose slowly. My head nearly brushed the low ceiling overhead as I turned on him. The young man clutched the jar of salve like a weapon. I eyed him. Everything about him was average, from his height and build to his brown hair and eyes. He looked like the sort of man people trusted immediately simply because there was nothing threatening about him.
I didn’t want to wake Laurel, so I plucked the salve from his hand, placed it on the rickety bedside table, and shoved him toward the doorway.
“Hey, stop that,” he said, annoyed.
I ducked beneath the doorframe, stepped outside after him, and closed the door quietly behind us.
