Chapter Seven. In Which the Pair Encounters Far Too Much Singing
CHAPTER SEVEN
In Which the Pair Encounters Far Too Much Singing
A kaleidoscope of light played across Risa’s closed eyelids. A faint, warm breeze stirred the hairs at the back of her neck. She was aware of something warm pillowing against her cheek, a wetness at the corner of her mouth.
She sat up in a blur. While the rest of her long limbs had been fanned out every which way, her face had been smooshed against the prince’s arm, a line of drool running down her jaw. She wiped it with the back of her hand as she glanced behind her.
The Bosque had transformed from nightmare into whimsical daydream. The trees no longer swayed ominously; instead, the leaves rustled with inviting cheer, almost beckoning. A small group of chittering woodland critters gathered a few feet away, observing her with curious wide eyes.
Across the stream, the rain had subsided, and peace had descended over the clearing. An idyllic town glistened with morning dew. Patches of grass swayed beneath the breeze. Vibrant, red-tiled roofs jutted over the sparse treetops.
Prince Javi slept on. Where moonlight had painted a tragic scene of a beautiful prince in the throes of pain, the sun softened his features into rosy cheeks, a plush red mouth parted by silent puffs of air, the straight slope of an elegant wide nose.
Risa had never seen someone so unguarded like this, so unafraid of what terrible thing awaited them the next day.
Eyes still closed, he spoke. “Like what you see?”
“Not really.”
His lashes fluttered, and she was greeted by his amber-gold gaze. Dew clung to his dark curls and to the gold diadem nestled in his hair. “Are you sure this isn’t the start of a budding romance?”
Heat rose to her cheeks. With a huff, she rolled her eyes. “How did it happen?” She cast him a sidelong glance, then clarified when she saw his arched eyebrow. “Your back.”
“One of my brothers pushed me down a flight of stairs.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She’d expected something to do with the foolish attempt of a boy trying to prove himself. Too much time spent sparring. Challenging giants to bouts of arm wrestling. Playing contact sports without proper safety equipment.
Not a brother.
“I don’t think you’re annoying enough to warrant a reaction like that,” she whispered, unsure what else to say.
Kindness didn’t come easily to her. She didn’t know how to be helpful or soothing.
So she did the next best thing and told him, “I’m going to find someone to help you,” then jabbed him with her elbow.
He groaned, his glare impressive.
It was the least she could do after she had put her foot in her mouth and had put the two of them in this predicament. If nothing else, she would head into town and find him a healer. Knowing her luck, everyone in the village would have been struck down by some mysterious illness the night before.
Risa stood and was readying herself when she noticed that beside her rucksack sat a black cat.
It was a hideous thing, eyes a sickly yellow that flashed black as it tilted its head. It had a midnight-black coat with gray streaks, long whiskers fanning a somewhat flat face, a snaggletoothed canine, and mottled fur tufts sticking out of its ears at odd angles.
Risa watched its tail swish back and forth like a metronome as it watched her in turn. She felt sure that she and the cat were waging a silent war that she was losing. But eventually, the cat lost interest in her and sauntered up to Prince Javi, who scrunched his nose in disgust.
The cat sat at his feet, eyes glinting as a cloud floated lazily overhead. The two regarded each other with thinly veiled disdain, until Prince Javi broke the stalemate by looking at Risa.
“I’m deathly allergic to cats.”
The creature continued to watch him. Prince Javi gulped and, with great effort (and a groan), turned onto his side. As he curled up, the cat decided to stomp along the line of his body until it reached the dip of his neck, where it sat in bored contemplation.
The prince froze, the cat’s tail flicking at his face.
“Get it away from me,” he said, voice demanding. The effect was lost when he sneezed in succession three times and the cat didn’t even flinch.
Risa shook a finger at him. “I didn’t hear please.”
He groaned again. “I’m allergic.” The tip of his nose was turning a peculiar shade of mauve; his eyes began to water.
“Deathly, I’ve heard.”
When she didn’t move, he groaned even more. “Please.”
She didn’t know what he expected her to do. She and the cats back home had reached a mutual understanding that they would avoid one another, lest the townspeople start pointing accusatory fingers at her when something happened to their affordable pest control.
Hands outstretched, Risa crept toward the cat. It placed one ratty paw between Prince Javi’s shoulder blades, and she froze.
“Shoo,” she tried.
Prince Javi glared at her over his shoulder. So did the cat, its yellow-black eyes narrowed.
“Thank you,” the prince said deadpan. “You’re my hero.”
Risa took another step forward, ignoring the way the cat’s tail had stopped swishing and turned as straight as an arrow. The ugly cat blinked at her and raised a paw in the air, claws drawn.
And then it swatted at Prince Javi’s back.
The prince shot up with a high-pitched squeal. The cat leaped and settled a few feet away to lick the underside of its paw.
Prince Javi rubbed at his sore spot with a grumble before his face brightened. “I’m healed!” He stretched his arms over his head, bent down to touch his toes.
Risa found she was unable to tear her gaze from the Itranian velvet straining over his shoulders.
“I guess I should thank the cat,” he said, catching Risa’s gaze. There was a calculating glint in the ocher pools of his eyes, the veil of vapidity pulled back for a moment to reveal a flash of unexpected cunning.
“Maybe it was me,” she suggested, hoping he couldn’t hear the thundering of her heart.
If Prince Javi didn’t believe her, he said nothing.
Once recovered, Prince Javi could not get the cat to leave him alone. This brought Risa great joy, especially when the cat decided to lay claim to one of the prince’s shoulders and perch there.
“Are you really going to let this creature assault me?” he asked when he tried to remove said creature with little success, its claws threatening to rip up his very nice doublet.
“What an awful little cat,” Risa cooed, ignoring him. “Let’s call it Brunie.”
The cat, which Risa determined was a boy based on no scientific measures whatsoever, seemed unperturbed by the name, though he seemed unperturbed by almost everything, including Prince Javi’s poor attempts at removing him.
The cat didn’t care to be petted, ignored Risa’s venture at friendly bribery with a blade of grass, and was unruffled by incessant sneezing.
He only bothered reacting when they reached a bridge they hadn’t noticed before that connected the Bosque to the town across the stream.
Hopping off the prince’s shoulder, the cat leaped to the middle of the bridge and sat glaring at them.
Distant singing floated over the stream. The folksy song nagged at Risa’s memories with the familiarity of a lullaby, but she couldn’t recall the words. Something about it made her stomach churn, and dread prickled the back of her neck.
That feeling slithered into her veins, ice-cold. Risa froze with one foot on the cobbled path of the stone bridge, caught between wanting to run and being compelled forward.
Prince Javi stopped beside her. She opened her mouth in warning, though she had no idea what to say.
I have a bad feeling wasn’t a persuasive argument against seeking the safety of a town after a night spent running from murderous individuals in a cursed forest. The words wilted on her tongue at the sight of the faint smile playing on his lips.
His chin tilted upward as the song washed over him like a balm.
Brunie the cat hissed in warning, body curving into an arch, fur standing on end. Prince Javi took no heed. He strode past, barreling ahead.
The effect was immediate. Something snagged around Risa’s heart, urging her to follow him. Revulsion worked its way beneath her skin, made her dig her heels in and fight the sensation.
The town unfurled like flowers in spring—first in small bursts, then en masse.
Enormous trees dotted a dirt path that turned into a town square packed with people.
A fountain made of bright gold bloomed at its center, the statue a sentry to all that surrounded it.
Flowers lined the basin and spilled out along cobbled roads that meandered through the town.
Houses and buildings sporting pointy red roofs overlooked the square, their shutters wide open in greeting.
The townspeople knelt on the ground, mouths open and tipped toward the clear sky in adulation. A single, resonant note warbled in the air, until a new melody was strummed, and the singing started again.
Everything inside Risa screamed for her to turn and run.
The ice in her veins sent a violent shiver trembling through her entire body, a warning that something was very wrong.
The dread continued to prickle at the back of her neck, insistent, but she was more concerned with how her feet seemed unwilling to listen to her demands to escape.
The prince waltzed on, moving deeper into the belly of the beast.
Brunie, at least, seemed as alarmed as she was. He scampered after Prince Javi while the townspeople leaped into a choreographed dance that made the hairs on the back of Risa’s neck stand on end.
The song was simple and infantile, like something out of a children’s play. Not that Barrow ever had any of those. Or, if it did, Risa and her family had lost their invitations in the mail.
“Good morning!”
“Good morning!”
“What a wonderful morning!”