Chapter Three

Nightshade couldn’t sleep which was surprising after how exhausted she felt. Morana had given her the highest room in the tower so Nightshade spent a fair chunk of the night gazing out of the window at the moon and the stars as they poked their tiny heads out of the infinite darkness. She could clearly see that Allard hadn’t walked far. He was simply stood at the bottom of the Hill as though trying to decide whether it was even worth going back home. Nightshade found herself wondering what that would be like... having a home to go back to. Suddenly the man glanced over his shoulder, this time Nightshade didn’t look away and stared back till his shadowy form walked back into the village. Nightshade brought her knees up to her chest and rested her head against the window. Eventually she began to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

She was so startled by her slamming door the next morning that she almost fell off the roomy windowsill. Morana threw a dress wordlessly into the woman’s hands and didn’t give Nightshade long enough to object as she walked out. The dress had short sleeves and the skirt was just above the knees. The front of the dress dove into a V shape and she grimaced, trying to hold back her anger and tears. Any woman would die to wear such a fashionable dress and she imagined that Morana always did but to Nightshade it became even more obvious why she didn’t wear them. The deep blue colour of the dress complimented her hair and her skin tone and the shape of her supple body. She pulled her gloves up as high as she could but they still did not cover enough skin. She walked back down to the bottom of the tower to see Morana packing up a wagon with supplies.

‘I can’t wear this.’ She began but Morana waved the worry away.

‘You look lovely, dear.’ Morana commented though she wasn’t really paying attention as she counted vials and potions into the wagon.

‘Where’s my cloak?’

‘I gave it away to be washed.’ Morana replied quickly, loading another box.

‘You did what!’’

Morana gestured vaguely to a small cottage at the bottom of the Hill muttering about the washerwoman. Thought hesitant Nightshade left Morana’s side to seek out her beloved cloak. It was the only piece of clothing that travelled with her that covered her from top to toe, she could not lose it. She walked down the Hill quickly, her leather boots still making her feet sore from the extent of walking she had done over the last few days. A little bell jingled as Nightshade pushed the door open to the washerwoman. Her eyes flickered up to the bell and like a child she reached up to make it ring out a second time then a third.

‘Please don’t break the bell.’ Came an aggravated sigh and Nightshade turned to see the washerwoman stood with her hands on her hips. Nightshade adjusted her stance to stand up tall and imposing. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Yes, Morana brought my cloak in. I would like it back.’

‘Well I’m afraid that’s not possible unless you are willing to pay for the extra cost.’

Nightshade opened her mouth to realise that in fact she had just given the last of her life savings to Morana and the motley crew of misfits. A hand reached out paying the washerwoman handsomely.

‘Please get the woman’s cloak.’

The washerwoman stuck her nose in the air and walked off as Nightshade turned to argue. Allard was staring back at her with a small smile and Nightshade must have frowned because he laughed.

‘No need to thank me.’

She found herself smiling back. A little half-smile then she looked away.

‘Thank you.’ She murmured, she stared at her feet so intently that she could see Allard’s smirk and felt the need to point it out. ‘Why are you laughing at me!’ She demanded angrily, her cheeks burning. I’m blushing now? Why?

‘No reason.’ He replied, glancing at her with a smile. Nightshade crossed her gloved arms. After spending so long with her serious, overprotective brother it might make a change to have someone with a sense of humour. ‘I know we didn’t get much of an introduction before. Morana has a tendency to cut someone’s character to shreds with a mere few words.’

‘So you don’t torture?’ Nightshade saw Allard wince at that comment.

‘Not anymore.’

‘Or not unless she forces you.’ Nightshade suggested. Allard glanced at her with surprise so she explained. ‘Morana seems to have a power over people.’

Before Allard could answer her the washerwoman returned with the cloak. Nightshade took it immediately from her, pulling it around her body. Out of the corner of her eyes, Nightshade saw the washerwoman hand a bag over to Allard. Nightshade’s eyes wandered around the shop for a moment and they ended up staring back at Allard. He threw the bag over his shoulder then walked back towards her.

‘Are you ok?’ He asked her gently, concern on his features.

‘Yes... I didn’t get much sleep, that’s all.’ She saw him yawn as she mentioned this.
‘Seems you didn’t either.’ She noted with a laugh as they left the shop. The sunlight caught in Allard’s hair making its dark tinge brighten to a rich brown. Nightshade snatched her gaze away but not before Allard noticed.

‘What are you looking at me for?’

‘I wasn’t.’ Nightshade protested as they continued to walk up the Hill. He glanced to his right, giving Nightshade a chance to observe him more closely but still keeping her distance from him. He was different from the other men that Nightshade had been around. He was tall, towering over Nightshade with his strong body. His eyes were very deep green, perhaps even a blue tinge, and his face was pale in complexion. His muscles were obvious underneath his sleeves but he did not overstate them. Nightshade pulled herself back out of her thoughts to see Allard was watching at her intently.

‘You’re staring at me again.’

Nightshade bit her lip and looked away. She could already feel it... the feeling... deep in the depths of her soul.

‘Can I ask a question, Nightshade?’ Allard spoke through the awkward silence and she looked up at him expectantly. ‘How far would you go to end your curse?’

‘To the end of the world. To my death. I’d give my soul to end it.’ Nightshade told him confidently. Allard looked away from her into the distance for a long time before he replied.

‘Don’t promise your soul to anyone, Nightshade.’ His tone was serious and sombre, his green eyes turning back to watch her. ‘Especially not to Morana. Don’t trust her.’

‘If I can’t trust her, I can’t trust you.’

Allard gave a gentle laugh.

‘Yes. That is true.’

Nightshade suddenly felt a pull at her heart again and took a few steps further away. Don’t you dare! She cried to herself. Don’t you dare start being attracted to another man, Nightshade! Allard reached into his bag for a green apple and bit into it. Her eyes gazed away, forcing herself to calm. She wasn’t attracted to him... it was just... he was likeable. That’s it! Likeable. Nothing more. Allard gave a soft chuckle.

‘Just likeable?’ He asked casually, taking another bite of his apple with a cheeky grin.

Nightshade gave a startled shriek and stopped dead. Her magick flickered across the boundaries of her mind, putting up its defences.

‘How dare you... I swear... you... how could you...’

‘A full sentence would be nice, Nightshade.’

Nightshade gaped at him, threw him a furious glare then marched off.

*

Allard watched as the woman strolled off in an embarrassment fuelled rage. He wondered whether he really was that likeable. He threw his apple into the nearby woods. He felt slightly guilty for probing inside the powered-beings mind but it helped quench his curiousness over the woman and her fight with her curse. No attraction. No lust. No love. That was not an existence that Allard had ever wanted to venture but he was intrigued by the young woman. When he reached Morana, Nightshade was standing to one side so Allard walked over to her. She turned her face away from him.

‘I’m sorry.’ He whispered in an undertone so that Morana wouldn’t hear. She didn’t answer but her dark eyes stared into his and he felt his breath catch in his throat. ‘I meant what I said, Nightshade. Don’t trust Morana. Another friendly piece of advise...’ He paused and she nodded for him to continue. ‘Watch out for Raven.’

‘Some friendly advise for you, Allard.’ Nightshade began with an angry voice. ‘Stay away from me.’

Allard stared at her for a long moment, he inclined his head gently then turned on his heel to help Morana pack the rest of the supplies.