13. Chapter Thirteen
13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ELODIE
T he harsh rap of a knock jolted me awake in a haze of sleep-addled confusion, my sore eyes wearily blinking as shapes of an unfamiliar room slowly came into focus. It only took a moment for the flickering forms of my dreams to fade into the forgotten reaches of my mind and just one more for it to catch up with what my eyes could see.
The knock came again with a persistence suggesting I was apparently supposed to answer—which made little sense given my current state of captivity. I had presumed they would barge in whenever they felt like it. Knocking at the door like I had any choice, like they were expected visitors, was an odd development.
How polite of my kidnappers to be so considerate.
Judging by the brightness outside, I had only been asleep a short while. Muscles stiff, I climbed off the bed still drowning in the crumpled black jumper. The faint smell of charcoal lingered in its material, conjuring an image of a bonfire—flames leaping to stroke the stars—that was so real I could almost feel its warmth against my skin.
Another loud rap sounded on the wood, and I shook it off, willing myself to stay in the present.
Was this the part where they took me to the real dungeons?
Would the door even open? It hadn’t last night. Why would they now allow a captive the freedom of an unlocked door?
Part of me was hoping it would be Marcellus on the other side. I gripped the handle that had been so painfully unmovable the last time I touched it. As I pressed down, the latch unlocked with an unexpected click.
It wasn’t Marcellus, though a guard had indeed been posted outside, standing stoically to the side dressed in a grey uniform with the hint of gold thread woven through the material. He wore a long, navy-blue scabbard strapped to his hip, and the golden hilt of a sword was visible, inlaid with a blue gem dancing in the light from the flames along the wall.
He hadn’t knocked though; he was facing ahead as if the bare wall opposite him was the most interesting thing he had seen in his life.
The person who had knocked was a tall woman with blonde hair cut to her chin. Small lines marked the edges of her brown eyes that were crinkled by a soft smile. Cautiously I met her eyes, ready to pull away should she suddenly be bludgeoned by her ex-husband or drop down dead from an aneurism. When nothing happened, I relaxed a fraction.
Maybe that’s over now.
She wore a long dress of in layers of black and reds, the hems rough and unfinished. If I looked too hard, they almost smouldered as she moved. Like coals that had been left to their own devices. Tangles of round black beads roped around her neck and wrists.
Her eyes swept over me, assessing me head to toe, as she held out a tray in offering with hands that were decorated with intricate flaming tattoos that started from her blackened nails and disappeared under her sleeves. The scent of charred wood and oils drifted from the fabric as it shifted around her wrists.
“Have you slept?” her voice held a melodic lilt that soothed a little of the knot formed in my chest.
When all I managed was a weak nod, she pressed the tray into my hands. “Eat.”
Hesitantly, I took itfrom her, once in my hands, she touched a finger to the door, and it began to close. I stepped out of its way as it cut me off from the outside, sealing me inside again.
The tray was heavy in my hands as I struggled to make sense of an interaction that had taken place under the bleariness of an unfulfilling sleep.
My mind caught up in time to press my ear to the door before she could have got far, straining yet unable to hear a single thing through the solid wood. I wondered if I would be able to take on that guard and make my escape, before deciding it was best to not go rushing to my death just yet.
I couldn’t shake the need to try, and after transferring the weight of the tray to one hand, I tested the handle again. The knowledge it wouldn’t move even a fraction was unsurprising yet no less frustrating.
Was that how my time here was going to be spent, locked in a room with food tossed my way?
Sitting at the wooden table, I slid the tray onto it, my leg bouncing as I eyed the food I had been given. White rolls with a selection of cheese, cut meat, and some dark red berries I had never seen before. Folded neatly next to it was a bundle of clothes. I was immediately disappointed at the lack of coffee.
Unsure of when I last ate, which was highlighted by my growling stomach, I pushed back a sleeve and poked a sceptical finger at the food—what that would really achieve I wasn’t sure. There were no clocks in the room, and I wasn’t old school enough to be able to tell the time by the sun.
Nanna probably could of.
Soon she would realise I was missing when I didn’t turn up for breakfast with her and Briar, and that was if Titan hadn’t already alerted her. My heart ached at the thought of her going through that. I had no idea how she would go about finding me, but I knew she would try everything she could. The guilt was almost crushing as I imagined the anguish she would go through not knowing where I was. I despised that I had wound up here partly because I had thrown myself into my kidnappers’ arms.
It was either that or be eaten by a floating black blob; there had been no Plan C.
At least this way I was alive, as long as the cheese wasn't full of poison.
I inspected the food again, my stomach making itself known, attempting to convince me that it made no sense for them to poison me. There had been plenty of opportunities to do me in without resorting to messing with my food, and if I was going to get out of here, I needed the energy to do so. I couldn’t live on adrenaline and my sparkling personality alone.
Sniffing at the food as far as I could tell smelt fine, but I was hardly a poison expert.
Nibbling the corner of a roll, I dropped it back on the plate, forcing myself to count out ten minutes, just in case.
My self-allotted time to not drop dead passed by, and I deemed it safe to eat, moving the pile of clothes off the tray.
I groaned in the relief that only satiating an empty stomach could provide, tearing into the still-warm rolls, soft and fluffy inside. I consumed two before leaving one to the side; I didn’t know when I was going to get another meal. The unfamiliar berries were surprisingly sweet, juice popping over my tongue as I contemplated the pitcher in the centre of the table that was filled with water.
Fuck it, I’m ninety percent sure they aren’t planning to poison me.
Filling a cup, I drained it in one go before portioning the cheese and meat, saving some with the last roll for later. I sat back, studying the only decoration in this drab, grey box. The painting of the fruit bowl, plump peaches huddled against a bunch of bananas and a whole bushel of apples. I counted the grapes as I picked at the food on the tray until I’d finished, stomach comfortably full.
I knew the first thing to figure out was where the hell I was. I’d barely been able to see a thing from the moment I face-planted the freezing ground. While also having absolutely no idea what these people wanted with me, I felt like nailing down a destination was the best place to start. All things considered, I didn’t feel I was in danger right now, which almost felt more dangerous. I wasn’t planning on hanging around if I got the chance to run for it.
Wiping my hands down Big Man’s jumper, I went to the unbarred window that was my only other means of escape. Ignoring the broken chair from yesterday’s misguided attempts, I hoped to gauge what part of the castle I was in. An ultimately pointless endeavour considering I knew nothing about the castle or grounds anyway.
Running my hands around the edges, I felt for a latch. I was a few floors up but that was only a problem if I could get the window open. Finding nothing, I braced both hands on the glass, pushing slightly to test its durability. It wouldn’t break; the wooden fragments that I was carefully avoiding were proof of that, but if I could somehow remove the whole window in one piece—quietly—I could edge my way down the building.
Maybe… possibly…
Unlikely, but here we are.
Not ready to quit before I’d even tried, I considered magik. It would require more than I had ever tried to use, and considering I was both physically and mentally drained, I didn’t think it would get me far. Still, closing my eyes in concentration, hands steady on the cold panes I pushed as much energy into them as I could. My arms were straining with the effort and despite the new edge my magik had taken, it came to nothing. The frame didn’t even rattle.
With no choice but to accept defeat for now, my hands fisted in the mess of my hair, tugging in frustration at having to abandon my doomed escape plan. Stepping away, the warm floor soothed the ache in my soles from my barefoot sprinting session the day before, and as the sleeves of the borrowed jumper I was wearing fell once again past my wrists, I remembered the clothing on the table.
Back at the table, I let the soft cream material unfold and two more items dropped out. I’d been given a short-sleeved top with matching shorts and giant white knickers that I cringed at the idea of wearing. Not that I was in any position to complain. The fire was still blazing, the room heated enough that in here I would be fine, but considering I was still barefoot, I wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
During yesterday’s panic, I hadn’t even had time to thank the gods I had been gifted a fully functioning bathroom, and as I pushed the door open, fresh clothes in hand, I sent out a little prayer of how thankful I was that I wasn’t going to be pissing in a bucket.
It wasn’t much but a small shower, sink, and an actual toilet were more than enough. There was no lock, but beggars can’t be choosers A mirror hung above the sink and I was unable to avoid my reflection in the small space. My usually tanned skin was tinted an unhealthy grey, untold strands of straggling white hair had fallen loose from the bun I had thrown it in last night, curling around my head.
Not all of me looked as bedraggled—my eyes were clearer, brighter. Tired, yes, but more alive than I’d ever seen. The dark-brown irises sparkling with colours I had never noticed before.
Stripping out of my dirty clothes, my eyes dipped to the empty hollow in my neck where my pendant should lay. It felt empty without its comfortable weightagainst my skin. I hated the thought of Nanna finding it broken and me gone, but there was nothing I could do about that now. I ran my fingers over the gold bangles that wrapped around my wrists. At least I still had this piece of home with me.
Carefully pulling the hair tie from my bun—one that I doubted would be replaced if I broke it—set it on the sink next to a fresh bar of soap that smelled faintly of pinecones.
My hair didn’t move, didn’t fall gracefully down my back. Instead, it stayed locked in a tangled ball on my head. I groaned as a quick glance confirmed that their hospitality hadn’t extended to a hairbrush and set about awkwardly finger-combing the tangles until my arms began to ache, and I grimaced at the still-knotted strands in the mirror.
Not great, but it would do for now.
Soap in hand, I stepped into the shower. There was only a single button, and I pressed it wearily. It responded to my touch, hot water pouring over me as the heat seeped into my aching muscles.It was pure bliss.
I stood for a long time, letting the water cascade down my body before I made any move to wash, and while my one bar of soap wasn’t the best shampoo I’d ever used, it did the job. I shut the water off before wrapping the single towel that hung from the door around myself, leaving my dirty clothes in a heap on the floor.
I dressed in the clothes I’d been given, drying my hair with the towel before hanging it back on the door. The soft fabric skimmed over my skin like the silken touch of a rose petal, and I couldn’t stop myself from running my hands over it again and again.
While the shower had been a welcome distraction, I knew there was nothing else for me to do but get better acquainted with my temporary accommodation.
There wasn’t much left to look at that I hadn’t already. I eyed the TV—if it worked, that would be a bonus, though I couldn’t see a remote anywhere. Running my fingers along the edge in search of a switch, I hit a small bump and it flickered on, static fuzz filling the screen. Disappointed but not completely surprised, I turned it off, the screen turning black once more. I opened and closed every drawer, finding nothing but an old, broken pencil.
A glance at the selection of books stacked on the dresser told me there were none I recognised. I picked up a small cloth-bound volume, its slightly faded title reading One Hundred Tales of the Fae of Old . As I flicked through the pages, noting the sweet illustrations that accompanied every story, it felt comfortable in my hand.
Fast having run out of things to look at, I put the book down onto the bed, moving to the window. I couldn’t see the way I’d walked to get here, and though I could see the boundary wall circling in the distance, I couldn’t make out the giant one we had first entered through.
Spread below were gardens covered in bright, neat rows of flower beds, the patches of red and white like a chess board of blossoms. Cobbled paths wound through them while low stone walls marked out the pathways. Iron benches were dotted around and tall statues—similar but not quite as large as the one in the fountain I had seen—stood surrounded by dark, trimmed hedges. Beyond the neatly curated garden was an area walled off with twisting golden gates.
Further out, sweeping across the horizon, a sea of green and brown stretched up towards the sky, leafy branches competing with each other for the gentle touch of the sun. At the beginning of the tree line, branches had been woven together to create a living archway that led into their depths. My heart yearned for the coolness of their cover, to walk between their trunks and feel the dappled sunlight falling across my skin. I always felt at peace within the trees and these ones called to me like my woods at home. The frost that marked the edges put me off just a little.
Even if I made it out of this room, there was still an entire palace to navigate. Not to mention at least two heavily manned battlements to get through. I stood in silent resignation, watching the treetops ripple in a breeze that I wasn’t sure would next touch my skin. I closed my eyes on a sigh with the thoughts of home heavy on my heart.
I was back within the trees, cool, crisp air wrapping around me me in a caress reminiscent of home, yet distinctly different at the same time. Sunlight, soft and welcoming, streamed down through the branches, beams cutting to the ground intersecting the darkness. Birds sang from high in their trees, lilting songs unfamiliar to my ears, but I lost myself in their melodies nonetheless. Small bursts of light fell through the patches of sun, their bright orbs floating above the dark earth before fading out again.
Magik hummed through my veins as I stepped towards them, cold dirt beneath my bare feet. Forcing my eyes from the lights I looked down at myself. I was wearing the soft set of clothing I’d been handed with my food. I turned, noticing the runes carved into the trunks of the trees that wept trails of sap.
“Elodie.”
Deep and familiar, the voice echoed through the gloom as my heart tugged. I whirled, suddenly desperate to be united with the source of that voice. The world darkened like the sun had hastened its descent below the horizon, the tiny orbs of light continuing their fall to earth to light the way. I reached out into the shadows, the sparks fell to my fingers ?—
The second knock of the day interrupted my daydream, and I blinked away the lingering light in my eyes. How long had I been standing here? I was supposed to be putting together an escape plan, not staring aimlessly out the window.
The handle moved with ease under my palm, as I opened the door again to find the tall lady with another tray of food.
“Why—" I began, seeing the only opportunity I’d had since I was put in here to get some answers, but she cut me off before I could finish.
“I don’t have your answers. Take the food.” It wasn’t unkind yet it didn’t broker room for conversation, and wordlessly I took the tray as she shut the door in my face for a second time.
The room was dim now, the sunlight I had been standing in moments ago fading with every minute I stood facing the door to my cage.
I’d lost time. Lost it staring out at the vast expanse between me and home.
Unease slid through me as I sat at the table, and absently poked at the thick brown liquid within the bowl I had been given. Spoon loose in my grip, steam curled into the air, rising in white swirls as the smell of herbs and meat filled the room. I took a bite, not bothering to pretend I knew how to check for poison. My stomach was grateful despite me being sure I'd eaten not long ago. I ate slowly, knowing there wouldn’t be much to do once the meal was finished except sit with my thoughts. I could only manage half as I stared out at the darkness that had fallen, the view from the window all but disappearing.
I was glad of the tiredness that crept over me. I needed to rest. I need to find the energy to get out of here.
I needed a fucking plan.
Standing slowly, I eyed the flames dotted around the room. I considered checking for an off switch, but didn’t give it much thought as I climbed into bed. Pulling the sheets back I slipped in between the covers, picking up the small book I’d left on the bed earlier. I turned the pages as my body sunk into the mattress, skimming the unfamiliar tales as my eyes grew heavy, the book slipping from my fingers as sleep pulled me under.