Chapter 54
Chapter Fifty-Four
BELLAMY
I decided to visit Soloman tonight. I hadn’t seen him in a few days and wanted to check on him. I kept the setting of his dream where he seemed most comfortable—by the pond in the jungle near Kairoth’s castle.
He sat on edge of the pond, dipping his toes in, pants rolled up to his calves and arms wound around his legs. Moonlight bounced off the water, giving it an ethereal glow.
I sat next to him and nudged him with my shoulder. “Hey,” I said softly. “I’ve got five sweaters knitted now. I’m so close, Soloman.”
He stared out at the pond. “Good,” he said, voice monotone. “That’s good, Bell.”
My stomach dropped. “What’s wrong?”
He picked up a rock and threw it. It skittered over the surface of the pond. “Sometimes I wonder if I even want to be human again. I’m so used to this swan form, to being able to fly, to feeling wild and free. It’s hard to think about being confined to this again.” He gestured to his body.
My own body went cold at his words, and I grabbed his hands. “I know that might be how you’re feeling, but it’s because you’ve been trapped for almost sixty years. It’s confusing you. Confusing everyone.”
“Perhaps,” he murmured, then turned to me, peering at me with his deep brown eyes that always seemed to full of wisdom. “Have you heard from Father at all? From our stepmother?”
I stiffened at the mention of them. I’d avoided the topic of Father with my brothers, not wanting to upset them with the truth. I needed them focused on getting through this curse.
“What are you not telling me?” Soloman asked. “Killian and Klaus both said they brought it up with you, and you changed the subject.”
Soloman would be persistent. I wouldn’t be able to dodge his questions, not like I had with Killian and Klaus. “Father disappeared after all of you were cursed,” I admitted. “Which I assume you knew because you were there with me the whole time in the Wilds.”
“But what about now? Have you heard from him?”
I thought back to what I’d learned after I escaped the Wilds. “Father is alive,” I said.
Soloman’s shoulders slumped in relief.
“I haven’t seen him.” I took off my boots and dipped my toes in the warm water. “But from what I’ve heard he’s not well. He’s not in his right mind.”
Driscoll had told me that part. That he’d been incoherent, blubbering, a mess. It broke my heart thinking about my strong, intelligent father in that kind of state.
“Why haven’t you tried to visit his dreams?” Soloman asked, jaw tight. “You could see him, try and sort his mind out.”
It was a good question. I’d spent many nights over the years searching for my father, unable to find him, assuming he was dead. Now I knew where he was. Or, at least, I thought I knew. He’d last been seen at the star castle. I’d known for three months, and still, I hadn’t gone to him.
“I’m angry with him,” I said finally.
If I admitted that to Jorah or Ryder, they’d likely reprimand me. Killian and Klaus would make light of it. Phoenix would try and teach me some lesson about familial loyalty. Marcello, who’d been the most sensitive of everyone so far, would probably start to cry. But not Soloman. Out of all my brothers, he was the one I could admit this to.
His gaze softened, and he patted my hand.
“You understand?” I asked.
He nodded. “He brought that woman into our lives. He let her treat us horribly. He let her manipulate him. So I get it. Part of me blames him too. You know, he was a really good father before she arrived.”
“I know,” I said.
I still remembered sitting on his lap as he read me stories, tickled me. He’d tuck me in every night and make us breakfast every morning. I almost hadn’t even felt like I needed a mother because he’d done both roles so well.
Until he met her.
“I know I should reach out.” I picked at a loose strand on my dress. “He’s probably alone and confused and missing us.”
“You don’t have to, Bell.” Soloman put his arm around me and I lay my head on his shoulder. “You already have a mother who denounced you. I don’t want you to have a father who does the same.”
My throat went dry. He struck right at the heart of the issue. Even if I’d never let myself admit it before this point, Soloman was right. What if Father didn’t recognize me? Or worse, what if his mind had been so twisted that he hated me now? Hated all of us? I didn’t think I could handle it. So I’d stayed away, hoping that I could break this curse, and then me and all of my brothers could find my father together.
I grabbed Soloman’s hand. “Let’s just focus on breaking this curse. I will break it, Sol. And you will get used to being human again. I promise.”
He gave me a sad smile that splintered my heart. Smoke twined through the air. Soloman tilted his head, studying it as it wove between us.
“What is that doing here?” he asked.
I sniffed the air, the smell of ash and burning wood filling my nostrils.
“I’m not doing that...” I said, then jolted upward. “Something is wrong.”
“Go.” Soloman stood and gave me a tight hug. “And Bellamy? Be careful. If you get hurt again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to convince our brothers to let you keep doing this a second time.”
I nodded, pulling myself from his dream and back into my room.
Smoke filled the space, so thick I couldn’t see through it. I took a breath, then immediately regretted it. My throat, nose, and lungs burned.
Fire. My room was on fire. And I’d been laying here in my bed as it almost consumed me. I stood on my mattress, but flames surrounded me on all sides, growing higher and higher, nearly reaching the ceiling. I gritted my teeth and ripped the sheets off the bed, wrapping them around as much of my body as possible. I took another deep breath, then leaped through the wall of flames and landed hard on the floor.
I was close to the balcony now. I had a clear shot, but then my gaze caught on the wardrobe in the opposite corner. The wardrobe where I kept my brothers’ sweaters.
The hair on the nape of my neck lifted. No.
I reached for the wardrobe right as a shower of sparks blasted toward me, the canopy on the bed collapsing down.
I shielded my face, but sparks flew up in my face, the spots where they landed blistering. This couldn’t be happening. I fell to my knees, watching helplessly as the flames consumed my room, curling around the wardrobe, blackening the wood. Soon the fire would reach those sweaters and all would truly be lost. My brothers were losing more of themselves every day. It had already taken me so long to knit the sweaters I had. Plus, I didn’t know if Kairoth would be able to find more nettle weed.
Tears streamed down my face as I thought about my conversation with Soloman.
He’d been so sad, so distant. He’d been close to giving up. My brothers had always been strong for me. I had to be strong for them. If they saw this, if they knew the sweaters were being destroyed, they’d make me give up. They would give up. I couldn’t allow that.
Gritting my teeth, I got to my feet and clenched my fists. I looked down at the burned sheet, then back at my bed. The fire had reached the posters but not the mattress. An idea took form. A stupid one. But it was the only one I had.
I wrapped myself in the now-cool sheet, then launched myself through the flames and back toward the bed.
My skin burned and blistered, but I ignored the pain. I was used to ignoring pain by this point. I could do this. I would do this. Spots dotted my vision, and I shook them away.
I ripped the bottom sheet off the bed and wrapped it around my hands, then gripped the mattress and pulled with all my might. The feather-filled mattress slid off the bed, and I propped it up on its side.
Flames popped and sparked at my back, catching onto my clothes. I quickly whirled around, letting the mattress act as my shield.
I took a deep breath and pushed the mattress through the flames and toward the wardrobe in the corner. Smoke filled the room, and I squeezed my eyes shut, pushing and pushing through the fire until my mattress hit something solid that I hoped was the wardrobe.
The mattress was bulky and heavy, but I attempted to maneuver it back to its side. It fell over, right into the fire closing in on me. The flames consumed it, but I had no time to think about the loss of my shield. The wardrobe sat in front of me, blackened and breaking apart.
The fire had eaten through the doors, leaving jagged, sharp edges. There inside lay the sweaters. One of them had caught fire, but the rest were okay.
I nearly let out a cry of relief but stopped myself and reached for the sweaters. Heat hit my arm like a wall, and I hissed, hesitating for just a second before pushing through the overwhelming hot air and snatching the sweaters.
I stuffed the sweaters down my nightgown, then grabbed the last one. Embers sparked from it, the fire already burning the arm of the sweater away. My hand blistered the moment it touched the sweater. The heat branded my skin, melting it away, but I couldn’t let this sweater go. I couldn’t let it just burn to ash. I dropped it to the floor and stomped out the fire, then grabbed the burnt remains and stuffed it under my shirt along with the rest.
The fire seeped out toward this last corner of the room. Flames surrounded me, and I had no options at this point. No shield. No escape.
My heart pounded, and despite the heat, an icy cold crept over me. I needed to figure a way out of this. I had to. I backed against the wall, then jumped from it as it seared my back. The entire room was like an oven. The smoke made my eyes water, and I couldn’t stop coughing. I could barely breathe. Barely see.
This had been stupid. I could hear Kairoth’s voice in my head.
“What good are you to your brothers if you’re dead?”
I’d been so determined to get these sweaters, I hadn’t fully thought this through, and now I would suffer the consequences.
I swallowed, bile rising in my gut at the thought that this might actually be my end. I couldn’t see anything at this point, the room completely filled by smoke and red, angry flames.
Suddenly, water blasted into the room. It poured over the flames and doused the heavy smoke with a hiss. I shrank away from it, not wanting to risk getting the sweaters wet and ruining them. The water continued to flow in a steady stream, shooting into the flames and fighting them with a vengeance. As the water slowly edged out the fire, the door to my room crystallized through the smoke. Someone had broken it down.
Leoni stepped through the frame, hands out, commanding the water. Driscoll trailed her, gaze locking on me as he grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the room and into the hallway, which remained untouched by the fire. The only evidence that there had been a fire in my room were the faint burn marks that had bled through the walls, barely visible under the black stone.
“What in the bloody spirits happened?” Driscoll lifted my arm, staring at all the burn marks and blisters in horror. My vision swayed, and I stumbled, but Driscoll kept hold of me.
I shrugged helplessly, tears filling my eyes. I’d been so close to losing my life, so close to losing everything. I reached into my shirt and dug out all the sweaters. Driscoll took them one by one. I gripped the last one tight, staring at the burnt arm. It would have to be replaced, but in the end, I was so incredibly thankful it hadn’t been worse.
“Bellamy,” a voice said. I whirled, and Kairoth stood there, his shadows whirling around him with fury, his eyes flashing red behind them. He strode toward us.
The agitated shadows moved and shifted until they’d formed into the beast, their jaws snapping. I’d never been so relieved to see a monster in my life. My monster.
I ran into his arms, and Kairoth folded me into him as I sobbed, shoulders shaking, tears blurring my vision.
“It’s going to be okay,” Kairoth murmured in my ear. “I’m here now, and everything will be okay.”
I wanted to believe him, but despite the fact that I’d saved the sweaters, I couldn’t help but feel this fire hadn’t been an accident. That someone had set it. Which meant someone wanted me dead, and I had no idea who it could be.