Chapter 36
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Behold, women love lore.
Castor
There is no place in all the realms more dreadful than a bookstore.
Merely stepping within the building of Page Turner sends a chill down my spine.
Books, knowledge, power. The scent and swirl of magical possibilities clog my nostrils, hinting at spells yet untouched, imagination yet uncovered, worlds yet unfound.
Sick to my stomach already, I dodge a young human on her way out the door. She’s so happy to have new books and probably wouldn’t have seen me even if I hadn’t shrouded myself in glamour for this harrowing occasion.
I shudder.
At the front counter, Alice resides—unassuming, dull, all dry airs around whatever she has chosen to look like these days.
To my memory, her hair was dark and her figure slight, but I’ve scarcely seen her, because she scares me.
I, frankly, have never wanted to learn whether or not she is immune to my power because of the pure overwhelming force of hers.
Pretending that maybe she wouldn’t be immune brings me some small bit of comfort. So long as she’s not immune, I might be able to protect myself against her.
Should the need arise.
But hopefully it never will.
“Come again,” she drawls at the human who has entirely left by now. Flipping open a magazine as the bell on the door rings itself back to silence, she mutters, “Or don’t.”
Always a peach, Alice.
Acting oblivious to my presence, she continues her perusal of the magazine even when I stop right in front of her counter, looming, alone in this independent bookstore.
The quiet shop rests around us—perfectly empty.
Yet she ignores me. As though any level of glamour could ever work on a being like her.
Lungs tight, I say, “Alice.”
She keeps ignoring me.
My fists clench at my sides, nails biting into my skin. It takes every scrap of restraint in me to maintain my composure. It takes every ounce of discipline to remain patient.
Finally, Alice closes her magazine, moves, and gets a different book—something heavier, though that’s all I can make out without sight—before saying, “Camilla Evergreen. Ever heard of her…Castor?”
The power in my name on her lips alone crushes my cells and atoms. “No, I haven’t.”
“What about Storm Sterling?”
Storm? Like Danielle Storm?
“No, not like your Danielle Storm.” Alice chuckles, responding to my thoughts. “Or, perhaps, a little bit like that.” She smiles, delighted. “But who can say for sure?”
You can. I clench my jaw. You can say for sure. And also, get out of my head. I’m liable to be very rude in here.
Alice sighs. “I’ll be shocked if you aren’t rude everywhere, Castor.” With a slight motion, the lock on the door clicks behind me and what I assume to be an open sign flips to closed.
I force my hands to relax and my fingers to stretch. “What about this Camilla and this other Storm?” I ask.
“Oh, nothing about them. They don’t exactly exist here. So there’s no reason for you to have heard of them. I’m merely making enjoyable conversation.”
My teeth grit. “Are you dabbling in the multiverse again?”
“Constantly, darling.” Inexplicably, her voice takes on a British lilt. “Quite recently, I even plucked someone from this world and dropped them in another. For funsies.”
“Alice.”
“Hush.”
My mouth sews itself shut, and breath seethes from my nose.
“She’s in a much better place now. Lots more shoulder for her to love.
” Rising, Alice slips from behind the counter, and the universe bends around whatever book she was holding—causing it to leave this plane of existence.
The air her voice takes on next digs nails through my brain with its drifting, distant, pondering edges.
“We’re all just stories in someone’s library… you know that, don’t you?”
If what she means is we’re all just playthings for those more powerful than us, sure.
Alice sighs again. “I’m in a benevolent mood.
Make your plea so I can get back to my very important business developing an otome game to pair with the anime and graphic novels I’ve had circulating for a minute…
or perhaps I’ll return to that giant otter shifter series idea…
hm, then again, mothman has waited oh so long…
” Her attention slips from the present, then snaps back. “Well?”
“You already know why I’m here,” I say.
“Yes, I do. But don’t you think, given your general character traits, that you should practice communication skills whenever possible? Humility, too. Ask for what you want.”
What a polite way to say I want to hear you beg. “Alice,” I mutter through gritted teeth, “I don’t want to be a weapon anymore. Please. Is there, or is there not, a cure for my eyes?”
Floating laughter leaves the sadist. “A cure for what you are, Castor? Oh, you amuse me so. Is there a cure for Alana’s depression, or Alexios’s ARFID, or the poor werepups’ compulsive distraction, or perhaps Willow’s and Pollux’s social ineptitude?
Is there, perchance, a cure for yours?” Cold, she approaches, and her fingers dance up across my cheek, linking in my blindfold.
“You felt it last night, didn’t you? At Willow’s.
A distinct otherness.” She pulls my blindfold free.
I keep my eyes closed even as more light finds its way through the skin of my eyelids and burns.
“You think changing what you are will let you slot seamlessly in place with them?”
“No,” I whisper, voice raw. “I don’t hope that I’ll ever feel like I’ve been accepted. I just want to see my mate. I want to be safe for her to be around.”
“Helpless. You want to be helpless.”
Air stings my lungs. “If that’s what it takes.”
“Ohh.” Alice’s tone darkens. “Interesting. Interesting, interesting, interesting…” she practically purrs. “What marvelous character growth you’ve been going through. You’d accept helplessness for her sake?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Not an ounce of hesitation. Tell me, then, would you become human? Frail and weak and momentary? Would you give up ages with those you love so that you might see them in the minutes before you rot away?”
Magic weighs in the air around me, suffocating, and I know the weight of my words when they tangle with this woman’s.
She is something more rare, more powerful, more dangerous than even a sandwoman. Limitations here, simply, do not exist.
I say, “No, I wouldn’t become human. As I am, Danielle accepts me.
And I would not give up time with her even if I never get to see her face.
She trusts that I won’t hurt her. She doesn’t fear this curse.
I won’t be stupid enough to place everything I am upon ridding myself of it.
If there is no cure, I would ask for a way to blind myself completely. Forever.”
“How excellent the way your resolve has matured. A different question, then, would you remain fae but sell your power for this cure? I’d leave you the ability to turn into a snake…
but I wouldn’t even let you keep your fangs, and no other magic would be yours to command any longer.
Would you take that deal, Castor darling? ”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Who would protect your mate if you become powerless?”
“She is far from powerless already. She can protect herself, and those who have recently pledged their loyalty to us would die for her safety.”
A deep chuckle exits the frightening woman. “To think that you would reach such a breaking point that giving up your illusion of control became an option…”
“I love her, Alice. I…” The warmth of last night scalds my flesh.
“I think…I love them. I have come a long way to learn that the thing I have least been able to control is myself. If I hurt others when I am in control, then I do not need to be. No matter how terrifying that is, I will choose to love and be scared if that is what it takes.”
“And if I tell you that Cael would be her enemy? Would you not hold tight to your ability to shield her with a power that could stop him?” Alice lays my blindfold over my shoulder.
“Your world is not one that the powerless thrive in. Danielle is young, and so are the rest of your growing brood. There are enemies they do not have the skill to oppose. Your kingdom is weak. It would not survive against many other domains should the fancy to overthrow it strike. Your power is a cornerstone. What you need isn’t to give up control.
You have already done so. You were born into this world with little restraint and large emotions.
You gave those emotions your control and let them propel you from one thing to the next.
Even now, though they are kinder, you are letting your emotions rule in this decision.
You want a cure, Castor?” Her hand lays flat against my chest, over the irregular hammering beat of my heart.
“Let go of your anger and your self-loathing. Forgive yourself, and free others from your resentment. Pila already gave you the answer you need. You just have to truly choose it.”
“Love?” I hiss. “How can you ever expect me to look upon someone I love, knowing I could kill them? Taking such a risk in itself would invalidate the emotion. Love is sacrifice, caution, care.”
“Trust.”
I bite my tongue.
“You must trust yourself, Castor. Trust yourself, and ask yourself… Did Pila really survive because of what she is? Or because you did not want to hurt her? There is a great difference between being unafraid in front of someone because you fearlessly love anyone you encounter and negating a magic. Being made of love does not mean a magic blade would not cut her.”
I remember the moments after I met Pila’s eyes.
I remember them well. I…broke. I crumpled into terror, panic, heartbreak.
I thought I’d killed someone else, someone undeserving, someone I’d heard laugh in Willow’s cottage, someone so kind.
I shake my head. “This is not a control issue. I have turned people I have not wanted to before.”
“Have you?”