Chapter 10
10
The great house was nestled near the summit of Mount Makiling, tucked away inside the verdant green jungle of the Paulanan Mountains. The path there was narrow and overgrown, curtained in vines and orchids, and the wildlife didn’t seem frightened by us moving through the trees. Macaques and great colorful cuckoos watched us from branches overhead, curious about where we were going. Bugs buzzed and frogs croaked from invisible spots in the dense jungle, which made the mountain feel alive as we made our way two by two.
After a few hours, when we turned down one of the narrow ledges spiraling its way up the mountainside, we got our first glimpse of the manor. It jutted out from the treetops, like a large salakot, on the highest peak. A waterfall cascaded below it, curtaining the summit in a white mist that billowed in the wind, making it appear as if the manor were floating on a cloud.
I imagined that my father and ancestors had made this same journey many times before me and had seen the manor from this very spot, too, and I felt more connected to them than I ever had.
We still had a way to go, and the path took us deeper into the jungle. My butt ached from the constant bump and bustle of my horse, and I readjusted myself for what felt like the hundredth time. Qian, on the other hand, didn’t look bothered at all, even though we’d been riding for the same amount of time. If he was sore, he didn’t show it, but I doubted he was. He was a royal, born and bred, so he was no doubt used to riding for long hours by now. Being a hunter, he was probably accustomed to long treks into the forest, searching for his monsters.
He must have noticed I was looking at him, because his gaze slid toward me, and I turned away, pretending I hadn’t been. I hadn’t meant to stare, but Jinky was right—he was easy to look at.
“How are you faring, Your Majesty?” he asked.
No way would I tell him that my butt ached so much, I doubted I’d be able to walk straight after this. I lifted my chin and said, “It’s no big deal.”
The corner of Qian’s lip quirked up just before Heng rode to meet us, pulling back slightly on the reins to match our speed.
“No sign of trouble, my liege,” he said.
“Of course not,” Qian said. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
Heng’s stare was as cold as a blade. “I am always alert.” He didn’t answer my question. To Qian, he said, “I will remain vigilant until we are safely at our destination.”
He left, returning to the rear of the caravan to make his rounds.
“What’s his deal?” I asked Qian.
“Heng is always on the lookout for anything that might want to attack us. You know what they say about these mountains. He’s wary of the stories, even if they are commoners’ folktales. Can’t be caught unawares.”
I furrowed my brow. “Folktales?”
“You don’t know?” Qian looked genuinely surprised. “I would have thought that, since this is your land, you’d have heard the stories. They’re so pervasive, they’ve even reached our land.”
A prickle of embarrassment made my nose itch. “Forgive my ignorance.”
Another voice spoke up. It was Lucas. “They say that Mount Makiling is haunted.” Lucas had ridden up behind us, casually swaying with the stride of his horse, and he glanced at the abundant green all around us.
I almost forgot my rancor, my curiosity winning over. “How can a mountain be haunted?”
“They say a spirit named Maria Makiling, the lady of the mountain, lives in the jungle. She protects the land, imbues it with abundance, and makes unlucky men disappear.”
Qian smiled at him. “Exactly right! I didn’t think you were one for superstitions, Sir Lucas.”
“I grew up in these mountains, heard the legends, too. People in nearby villages claim to see the lady wandering the forests, dressed all in white, gathering fruits to bring back to her hidden cave. They say she’s beautiful, with flowing dark hair and skin like golden honey. Though any man who tries to approach her is never seen again. Perhaps it’s a story to keep people away from the royal house, but I’m not sure. If it’s not a ghost, then history haunts this land.”
“That’s poetry,” Qian said, a layer of teasing in his tone.
“How come no one told me about this?” I asked Lucas.
Qian answered, his tone bordering on condescending. “Perhaps because it’s not true.”
“You believe in mythical monsters,” I said. “You hunt them, don’t you? What’s the difference?”
“Monsters are real. Ghosts are not.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain, Prince Qian,” Lucas said. “History and legend are connected in ways even encantos don’t understand. Anything can live up in these mountains. Especially beings that don’t want to be found.”
“I never took you for one to believe in ghosts,” I said.
Lucas shrugged. “I like to keep an open mind about the unknown.”
Qian huffed a laugh, doubtful. “I’m more worried about the creatures of the material plane.”
“Why does she take men, though? The lady of the mountain?” I asked Lucas. I wanted to know more about her.
Lucas shrugged again. “Some say she falls in love with them and steals them back to her house to be wed. Others say it’s because she’s a spurned lover jealous of other people’s happiness.”
A pang of sympathy resonated in my aching muscles. I lifted my chin. “Maybe she makes men disappear after they’ve done something to anger her,” I said.
Lucas’s gaze pierced mine. I wished he would look at me longer, but when he turned away, I felt like I could breathe again.
“Yes,” he said. “I could imagine so.”
In the midafternoon, we arrived at the front gates of the grounds. A stout encanto wearing a butler’s sash stood at attention, flanked on both sides by rows of housekeepers and servants, dutifully waiting for our arrival. The man, a light-skinned encanto with a thin mouth, a thinner mustache, and a bald head, bowed when we approached. His precise movements and the small round spectacles that perched on the end of his nose gave him the appearance of a bird of prey.
“My queen, Mahalina Jazreel,” he said. “I am Edgardo Ignacia, your butler. Welcome to the great house.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner to meet you.”
“Not at all, Your Majesty. It’s my pleasure to keep your home well looked after. And we welcome any and all guests of Her Royal Highness,” he said, addressing the rest of the party.
Qian had dismounted from his horse, which was already being led away by an attendant. He smiled and took in the house with bright eyes.
“I could get used to this view,” he said, turning to face me.
I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, but he was right. The manor was breathtaking. It was reminiscent of a tree house, but that description would be doing it a disservice. It was easily the size of my old school in San Diego. The palm trees had grown in such a way that they wove together like a basket forming the main structure, merging with natural stone in the cliffs and allowing for fresh flowers and vines to crawl up to the grass roof that loomed tall like the mountains around us. Large glass windows and balconies stretched around three stories, no doubt meant to capture the beauty of the outdoors, where hammocks were already strung up and shaded with parasols.
“Wow,” I said to Edgardo. “This is perfect. You’ve kept my family’s manor in fantastic condition.”
“You have not seen everything yet, Your Majesty,” Edgardo said, tipping his head in acknowledgment and stepping aside to let me walk into the house.
He was right. I’d spoken too soon. The main foyer had high ceilings and a mahogany floor, and I felt like I’d walked into a dream. Real palm trees grew out of small indoor gardens like pillars all around us, and colorful birds swooped from one branch to another, calling out to one another. Natural archways lined the entrance, leading to the wings of the house. The air smelled like rain, vines crawled up and down the limestone walls, and a burbling fountain stood in the middle of the hall. The structure of the fountain itself was seemingly made out of mist, too. The statue in its center depicted a strikingly beautiful woman with flowing hair and a heart-shaped face, her palms up and her eyes raised toward the ceiling as if she were catching the water that fell around her.
“The lady of the mountain,” Edgardo said. “She watches over us here.”
“She’s real?” I asked.
“She is the mountain,” he said. “And the mountain is as real as you and me. We believe all things in the material universe have a spirit. The old ways are strong here.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucas give Qian a sidelong glance, but Qian simply put his hand on his sword and did a slow circle around the entrance hall.
“My staff and I have fully prepared for your every want and need,” Edgardo continued. “There are one hundred twenty-five acres of jungle and lakes for every outdoor activity you can possibly imagine. The residence has sixty rooms, including a library, a morning room, a billiards room, a breakfast room, a dining room, a fully stocked wine cellar, sporting pitches, and an indoor hot spring. You will be without want here.”
My jaw hung loose for a long moment as I took everything in. All this was mine?
Nix nudged me in the side, noticing that I’d gotten caught up in the luxury of it all, and I closed my mouth. Right. I had to act like this wasn’t a novelty. I could barely think about where to start.
“It’s magnificent,” I said. Edgardo smiled, knowing it was true.
Amador was busy directing staff to carry her luggage. “Where is my room?” she asked impatiently.
“Allow my staff to show you,” Edgardo said. A couple handmaids appeared and whisked Amador and her wardrobe away. Lucas followed obediently.
“Forgive my short notice,” I said. “I didn’t expect to have such an entourage. But Prince Qian and his men are my guests. Please see to it that they’re comfortable. He’s mentioned he went hunting with his father as a pastime. Is that something that can be arranged?”
“Hunting? I’ve never had such a request, but…I don’t see why we can’t make an exception.”
“An exception?”
“Your Highness, forgive me. We are cautious with the wildlife here. Every living thing on Mount Makiling is under the lady’s protection, and we don’t want to upset her.”
“Of course, you’re right.” I’d have to find some other way to occupy Qian’s time, get him to relax and be more friendly.
Edgardo introduced me to the handmaids in charge of my suite, three encanto girls who were a little older than me. The one in charge and the eldest was Clarissa.
Clarissa wore her blond hair in a braid running down the length of her back. She barely spoke while she led us through the great house, taking Nix and me to our rooms. The great house was in actuality several houses connected to one another by covered walkways, sheltered on either side by the lush rattans and curling vines. No wonder royals before me came here for rest and relaxation. I was starting to feel better already. Around seemingly every corner was a new thing to take my breath away. It was as if the building had grown out of the jungle itself. Hundreds—maybe thousands—of butterflies hung from the rafters in a reading room; in another room, a waterfall flowed down from a hole in the ceiling to create an indoor pool; another room was completely made of salt, lit only by sunlight that filtered through the thin places carved out of the rock in intricate, swirling designs.
Everything was so amazing, I almost forgot what we’d come here to do. Nix, too, seemed enraptured by the house; all the worry that had creased her brow these past few days had disappeared.
“Do you like it?” I asked Nix.
She looked at me, her eyes huge. “Like it? Can we live here forever?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “How was your ride with Amador?”
Nix craned her neck to look around the corner at the dining room, already being prepped for dinner. “It was great.”
“Really? I half expected you to throw yourself out of the calesa rather than be stuck with her all day.”
Nix blinked rapidly and fumbled over her words. “Right! She was motion-sick most of the ride, so she didn’t talk too much. She barely acknowledged my existence, so I’ll take what I can get. It’s the little victories, right?” She smiled a little too tightly.
“Your room, Princess Nix,” Clarissa said, gesturing to a door at the end of one of the covered walkways.
“Thank you!” Nix said, and dashed for the door. “I’m totally beat. I think I’m going to skip dinner and go to bed early if that’s okay. Maybe being around Amador took more out of me than I realized.”
“You don’t have to ask me for permission,” I said. “You can do whatever you want here.”
Nix nodded. “You should get some rest, too.”
I desperately wished I could. My eyes felt puffy, and all I wanted was to close them and bury myself under a pile of blankets, but I just smiled and said, “I’ve got some things to do first. See you later.”
Clarissa continued leading me deeper into the house, but I felt Nix’s eyes still on me as I followed. When I heard her door close, I let out a breath of relief. I hoped she didn’t sense my nerves. Maybe the energy I was giving off seemed more like exhaustion than anxiety. I just had to get through tonight.
My room was on the top floor, the farthest away from everyone else’s, which was yet another relief. Everything in my chamber was mostly wood, from the floor to the ceiling, and it was furnished with rattan chairs and a large four-poster bed draped with a mosquito net. A huge tree trunk grew straight through the middle of the room and into the ceiling, exactly the kind of tree house I had dreamt about having when I was a kid. Moving around so much with my mom meant that was impossible, but being in one now made my heart leap with joy.
My things had already been delivered to the master suite, stacked neatly near a wardrobe and privacy screen. The balcony in my room overlooked the hot spring, and beyond that, I had a spectacular view of the waterfall and the surrounding rainforest. Separating us from the rest of the mountain was a fluffy white cloud that moved like waves. In the distance, I could see the ocean. It felt like a world away.
“Thank you, Clarissa,” I said to her as she waited patiently by the door.
She bowed. “Shall I collect you for dinner, Your Majesty?”
“No,” I said, trying to smile. “I’ll see myself down. I want this trip to be as casual as possible. No schedules, no formality.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I’m serious about the formality thing. I’m never formal with my ladies-in-waiting. You can start calling me MJ.” Clarissa winced, and I added, “Unless that makes you uncomfortable.”
“It may be a hard habit to break, Your Majesty. If you are interested in health and restorative programs, I can arrange for a number of massages and skin routines to ensure you have the most relaxing and pleasurable time here. Or I can request a spiritual healing and a guided meditation, if that is what you need.”
I perked up. “A spiritual healing?”
“Yes, but…these healers aren’t exactly…” She trailed off, trying to find the right words. “They’re called manghuhulas—spiritual healers whose practices aren’t always understood. Some deal in spirit magic, exorcisms, even necromancy, but some have been known to be curse breakers.”
My eyes widened. Would that help me? Maybe they would know how to fix me, but would I want to risk letting a stranger know about what was happening? But Clarissa must have mistaken my silence for disapproval.
“Please forgive me,” she said. “They are distantly related to mambabarangs. I understand the crown has exiled their kind ever since your father’s assassination, but—”
“No! It’s okay!” I said, easing her with an outstretched hand. “I truly don’t mind. I didn’t know such a job existed. So, yes! Please! That would be amazing. A meeting with a manghuhula sounds like I could right some wrongs on that front as well.”
Clarissa’s smile twitched, but she seemed relieved that I wasn’t mad. “Okay, I’ll see to it.”
“Thank you.” I ached all over. While I had the meeting with the manghuhula to look forward to, the talks with Qian still loomed like a shadow over my mind, but I knew that if I didn’t get ready for tonight, I might regret it later. “I’m a little tired, though, Clarissa. So I think I, too, will go to sleep early. I would request not to be disturbed at all while the door is closed, please. And don’t worry about waking me up tomorrow. I’ll manage on my own.”
“Very good, Your Majes—MJ.”
I smiled as Clarissa closed the door behind her.
Once she was gone, I checked the door. Since this was the master suite, it was outfitted with an intricate locking system that was supposed to stop outside attackers from getting in. But what about something trying to get out?
I traced my fingers on the magically enhanced latch, feeling its power humming like a live wire, and I locked the door.
I did the same to the French doors leading to the balcony. But what if my screams carried across the grounds? Was any of this good enough?
I opened my rucksack and took out a pair of the iron shackles I had tucked away in there. Two iron cuffs were connected by a short iron chain. Romulo had told me they were magical, that the chain would elongate to fit around whatever it needed to in order to anchor the person in place. Not only that, but they locked with a secret word. All I had to do was say “magkandado,” and they would stay fastened around my wrists until sunrise.
I wrapped the chain between the two cuffs around the tree in the middle of my room, and like Romulo had said, the chain magically grew long enough to accommodate it. I just had to make sure that none of the servants saw any of this tomorrow morning. Too many questions—let alone the rumors—would only make things more complicated for me. Until the manghuhula arrived, I had to do everything I could to protect people from me.
There was a knock on the door, and I instinctively hid the manacles behind my back. I’d told Clarissa not to disturb me, but it could have been Edgardo or one of the other staff members who hadn’t been informed yet.
Heart pounding, I stuffed the shackles under a blanket, then went to the door and opened it. The last person I had expected was standing there, smiling at me.
“Qian!” I said. “Wha…what are you doing here?”
Qian glanced around, eyebrows raised. “Is this too presumptuous of me to knock on your door?” When he looked at me again, he had a boyish glint in his eye that was remarkably charming.
“No, I just…It’s a nice surprise.”
“I promise, I am not here with unsavory intentions. I wanted to bring you something, as a token of appreciation.”
In his hand was a bouquet of gorgeous plumeria flowers, as blue as sapphires.
“They reminded me of your eyes,” he said, holding it out to me.
My face felt hot when I stared at the flowers and then at Qian. He had thought of me, even when we had been apart, and that was more flattering than I had realized.
I took the flowers from him, but he plucked one from the middle and took it back. “This one, though,” he said, holding it up to his nose, “is for me.”
My brain had gone fuzzy, and it was hard for me to find any words. I couldn’t even think to say thank you. He turned and walked back down the hall, leaving me standing in the doorway, but glanced over his shoulder once to smile at me, flower still in his hand.
My heart skipped into my throat, and I closed the door quickly, locking it once more.
Did this mean…? Did Qian like me?
The last time anyone had brought me flowers was Lucas. He’d picked a whole bouquet of them just for me, and then we had kissed. The memory of that night still sent a rush down my spine.
And now Qian had done the same—hand-delivering flowers for no other reason than to see me. Was this real, or was this some sort of political maneuver to get me to send Nix back to Jade Mountain? Why would he like me? Why would anyone like me? I was a monster.
I was so tired, it hurt to think about it. In fact, I was having a hard time thinking about anything at all, aware only of the citrusy scent of the plumeria.
I put the flowers to my nose and went to the window overlooking the grounds. Outside, I spotted two people standing at the tree line separating the grounds from the jungle. They were hard to make out since the shadows were growing darker, but I knew they were Lucas and Amador. They were talking to each other, too far away for me to hear, but I could tell they were arguing. Lucas paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair, while Amador gestured at him, her posture tense.
After a moment, Lucas dropped his hands to his sides and took her hand. He held it tight in his own and said something to her that made her take a deep breath. He kept holding on to her hand, gazing at her with such tenderness, and I remembered how he’d looked at me like that.
Watching them made something sour and bitter rise in my throat. Jealousy dug its ugly claws into me, and my heart lurched. I wanted him to look at me that way. I remembered how safe I’d felt when he did, how strong I’d been knowing that he was there with me. And now it was over.
I knew I needed to let it go. I had to get over it. I hated myself for feeling this way, and it was slowly eating me alive. But I couldn’t stop the longing in my heart for something I couldn’t have.
I put the flowers to my nose again and inhaled, closing my eyes. Qian’s gift consumed my thoughts, and by the time I opened my eyes again, Lucas and Amador were gone. They’d disappeared behind the house, but the sludge inside my gut seemed to spread. Like oil, it coated my stomach, making me sick.
When I turned back to face my room, the world tipped under me. I stumbled to catch my balance, but I was too dizzy. Nausea rolled over me like a sea wave, and the flowers slipped from my hand and fell to my feet.
“What…? No…”
The room spun like I was on a Tilt-A-Whirl. I turned around to the window again to see that the sun was starting to set, casting the room in an orange glow. I hadn’t noticed it earlier; I was too focused on Lucas and Amador. Long shadows stretched out toward me, and darkness filled my vision. I shook my head. I could feel it. The darkness spread inside me.
I was changing, and I couldn’t stop it. I was running out of time. I needed to get the iron…
I stumbled for the manacles, but my knees gave out, and I hit the floor. My blood roared in my ears, drowning everything out, and I tasted bile.
The manacles lay inches away from me. I grabbed for them but missed with clumsy fingers.
I barely managed to slide the manacles over my wrists, though I couldn’t clasp them. I didn’t have control of my hands anymore; they’d gone numb.
“Magkandado,” I gasped, desperate, but I knew it wouldn’t work. The manacles weren’t secure. They wouldn’t lock. “Magkandado,” I said again, even as darkness gripped me in its claws and dragged me under.