10. Oh, the Impossibilities
10
OH, THE IMPOSSIBILITIES
*Blanca*
I awake sometime in the middle of the night. When I first got back to my room, I took a long shower and scrubbed my flesh raw. Then, I got dressed in as many layers as I could and fell into bed, exhausted. My mind had gone crazy, even in my dreams, trying to sort out everything that had happened.
I’d lied to my parents.
Father asked me if I’d found my mate, and I’d said no. Even as I’d spoken the words, the mark Kieran had left in my flesh began to throb. My wolf, my soul, seemed to want to claim him, even though it made absolutely no sense.
Curled up on my bed, I stare out the window, trying to ascertain what time it is. Judging by the placement of the stars, I guess it’s around 2:00 in the morning, which means I essentially slept for sixteen hours. I don’t want to get out of bed. I just want to go back to sleep and will this all away.
None of it makes sense to me, and lying here isn’t going to fix that. I have to figure out how this happened.
When I consider who might be able to help me, only one person comes to mind.
I take a deep breath and pull myself up to a sitting position. I’ve been forbidden from going down to the dungeon for years, but that’s never stopped me before. Still, after what happened last time, with the bird, I’m hesitant to do it again. I have a feeling I’ll get more than a beating if my parents discover that I had something to do with that bird flying into Kieran’s eye.
Nevertheless, thinking of the bird reminds me that there are other reasons for me to seek out Mr. Blake. With a deep breath, I stand and slip on my shoes before padding over to the door only to find it locked.
“Seriously?” I murmur. Why would my parents lock me in here again? It’s not like the Haze is still going on. I don’t know why they locked me in to begin with, but I did notice they were both relieved when I told them I hadn’t found a mate.
Why didn’t they want me to find him? Were they afraid I’d let someone know about how abusive they are? Or do they just not want me to leave the castle ever?
“Surely, they had no idea–”
I stop the thought before it can be articulated on my tongue. There’s no way my parents ever would’ve considered that what did happen was a possibility.
With a sigh, I bang my head on the door, not hard enough to hurt. “Hey guys?” I say, but I’m not talking to any guards that might be standing outside. I’m sure there are none. I turn to find my mice friends observing me. “A little help?”
They squeak amongst themselves and then crawl under the door, but rather than climbing the wall as they have before, they just stand there in confusion. I can see their tiny feet from the crack beneath the door as I lie on my belly.
The key isn’t there.
“Shit,” I murmur. “Okay, I bet the queen has it. Do you think you can go to her room and fetch it?” I don’t know for sure that my mother has the key, but it’s my best guess. My father is usually too busy to put up with my “nonsense” which means I become the ward of the queen.
My mice friends squeak again and then disappear down the hallway. I lie there for a while before realizing they’re not going to be back any time soon. My parents’ rooms are far away. Finally, I sit up and wait until I hear the mice coming. It’s taken them a while, but they’re back, and I can hear the clank of metal on metal.
They’ve retrieved the keyring.
It’s heavy, and they are tired, but they manage to get it to me. I unlock the door and thank them, placing the key in my pocket. I think I’ll try to hold onto it this time, maybe hide it somewhere in my room. Mother will probably think she misplaced it.
I start to head down the hallway, but then I have an idea. “You guys wanna come?”
Zelda tilts her head to the side and peers up at me before squeaking again and nodding.
“Great. Bring your friends–all of them.”
Ralph and Harry exchange a look before making some more noise that sounds like chatter, and the next thing I know mice are pouring out of the walls. I laugh as we head down the hallway together toward the dungeon.
Before we round the final corner that descends to the prison cells below, I tell them, “You guys wait here. Let me see if you’re needed.” With more confidence than I’ve felt in a while, thanks to my back-up, I approach the guards snoozing in two chairs on either side of the door.
As soon as I reach for the doorknob, the one on the right hops up. “Hey! You can’t go down there.”
“Sure I can,” I tell him. “I’m the princess. I can do whatever I want.”
“No, you can’t.” The one on the left is up now, too. “We have it on strict authority from the king himself not to let you down there no more, princess or no.”
I stare at him for a moment before I decide I need to get through this door, no matter what happens when they tell my father. “Are you sure about that?”
As he opens his mouth to speak, I use my mind to call upon the mice, knowing somehow that they can hear my wishes. Immediately, they stream from around the corner. The guards don’t notice them at first, not until dozens of my little buddies start to crawl up their pant legs.
Both guards shout, dancing around, kicking their feet, trying to get the mice out of their trousers. I stifle a laugh as I pull the door open, though I do hope that none of my friends get hurt while helping me. Some of them are so little.
I fly down the stairs into the darkness, not needing a light to know where I’m going. I’m not surprised at all when I reach the bottom of the stairs to see another guard there. This one is wide awake. He scowls at me and folds his arm across his muscular chest. “They let you down here? That’s a no-no.”
“They’re busy,” I tell him. It’s not a lie. “And you will be, too, if you don’t let me through.”
He chuckles, a deep throaty sound. He’s scruffy, with dirt on his face, and he smells like body odor. “How’s that now?”
With a sigh, I summon the best help I can get down here. A half a dozen fat rats scurry from inside the closest cell, making their way over to the guard. When they ascend his pant legs, he screams in pain. Apparently, rats’ claws are sharper than mices’. Either that, or they are biting him.
I rush past him and down the row of cells until I reach Mr. Blake. He’s standing at the front of his cell, his hands wrapped around the bars. “You shouldn’t have come, Little Raven.” He shakes his head.
“I have to talk to you,” I explain. “I know I don’t have much time, but listen–the Haze. Is there someone powerful enough to mess with it? A wizard or a magician or… anyone?”
He swallows hard, his brow creasing. “What happened?” I hear the concern in his voice. “Did they actually let you go?”
I shake my head. “No. I snuck out.” Why am I surprised that he knows my parents this well? He was, once upon a time, my father’s greatest enemy, or so I’ve heard.
“How?” he wants to know.
I take a deep breath. Will it make sense to him if I tell him? “Uhm… I had some help. From… mice.”
Mr. Blake’s mouth drops open. “Raven…” he murmurs. “You know you have powers, then?”
Blowing out a breath, I say, “I know I have something. But I’m not strong enough to mess with the Haze, right?” Kieran accused me of such. What if I had somehow done it?
“Of course not,” he says quickly. “No one is strong enough to do that. No, you didn’t mess with the Haze. Did the Haze mess with you?”
All I can do is nod.
Slowly, he shakes his head. “I was afraid of this. It’s almost time, Little Raven. You’re going to discover everything, and when you do, there won’t be anything anyone can do to stop you.”
“What are you talking about?” I hear more guards coming and am too distracted to call upon the animals to help me.
“Which do you prefer, Raven? A world where the impossible is possible or one where the possible is impossible?”
“I don’t understand.” The guards are getting closer.
“If it’s not possible for anyone to mess with the Haze, then that means that whatever happens during the Haze is true, and you must accept that as reality first. Then, everything else can fall into place.”
“What?” I stare at him as the guards reach me.
“Hey! You can’t be down here. What the fuck did you do to the guys?” the first one shouts as he reaches for my arm.
I dodge away from him just as a huge owl comes swooping between the bars of Mr. Blake’s cage, aiming right for the man’s head. I know I didn’t do that, but I use it to my advantage, slipping between the guards who are now shouting and fighting the bird.
I head upstairs thinking I have more questions than answers.