22. Chapter Twenty-Two
22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ELODIE
I needed something to do. I couldn’t sit here throwing myself a pity party and staring out the window, or I would go crazy. It was draining being in a room that was so not me .
I missed my own things. My messy bed and all its pillows, my shelves stuffed with books. I missed pulling a tarot card every morning and eating pizza with Polly. I missed wearing my own fucking clothes and being able to leave a room when I wanted to.
How long had it been since I’d made something?
If only the TV worked I could kill some time, because there was literally nothing to do but contemplate the shitshow my life had become.
My joints groaned as I stood, stiff from disuse, and as I frowned at the sun now dipping low in the sky, close to the horizon, I realised I had somehow lost a large chunk of time. Had I been daydreaming that hard?
Daydreaming. Moments.
I could hear Briar’s laughter at my denial as though she was next to me, but I couldn’t go there right now. I already had enough to sort through.
I needed a way to keep track of everything Kaius told me, then I could figure a way to get home. Or even contact Nanna somehow. There had to be a phone somewhere?
I scanned the room, landing for a second on the fluffy white peony, before finding nothing I hadn’t already looked at a hundred times before. Sighing, I sat on the end of the bed, absently trailing patterns in the blanket and willing myself not to forget a single thing he had told me.
As the only unit—other than the sky—that I had to measure time by pounded at the door for a third time, a prickle of unease crawled down my spine as I realised how much time I had lost. But there was the flicker of possibility I would be getting my hands on some books. With that thought, I flew to the door wrenching at the handle—that now conveniently opened—to see the tall lady, beads clacking gently and a tray held in her hand.
But not one with a book on it.
Frustration rippled through me at the stupid smile on her stupid face, and I grabbed the tray. Kicking the door shut, I slammed it onto the table, liquid spilling from the bowl of soup to splash onto the tray.
One thing, I’d asked for one fucking thing.
Energy swirled within me, feeding an anger that I knew logically was ridiculous. There was no reason to be so mad about not getting a book, but I couldn’t stop it, emotions escalating as my fingers burned with the need to release it. I was fully aware I was behaving like a child but I couldn’t pull myself back.
One book, that was all I wanted.
I gritted my teeth against the onslaught of fury that was entwining with my magik in a relentless circle of rage-fuelled energy that threatened to overwhelm me. I wanted to reject this power that felt like it was digging its claws into my soul.
I couldn’t fight it any longer. My hold broke, magik swirling through me, every nerve igniting as it skimmed along my skin. Groaning at the feelings it elicited, I needed a release. Any release.
Anger turned to something else—a carnal urge that would definitely keep me occupied.
My pebbled nipples pushed at the soft fabric of my jumper, and I moaned as my fingers brushed over them, pulses of energy rippling over my body with every touch. My thighs squeezed together against the aching between them, seeking friction as I reached down my stomach towards my waistband, my fingers dipping below it?—
A loud thud burst my lust-filled bubble, leaving me gasping as the intrusion ensured I lost any grip I had on the magik I had been clutching to, leaving me with nothing but the flush that had crept over my skin.
That sound was beginning to get on my last nerve.
Fuck my life. Why now when I was about to waste time in the best way?
I cringed at the thought of having to face the tall woman. I wasn’t ashamed of finding relief in orgasms, but it would be awkward as fuck and make me look like a psycho if she realised what I’d been up to after slamming the door in her face.
Probably best to ignore it.
Except another knock, louder and more insistent, had me crossing to the door. I wasn’t going to apologise. I wouldn’t slam the door in her face again, but I wasn’t apologising for my anger. Taking a breath, I pulled the door open and stopped short—it wasn’t a tall woman. It was a tall man.
A tall man dressed in a guards uniform. He didn’t quite match Kaius height, but he still towered over me.
Although that wasn’t exactly difficult.
He was plainly good looking. There was nothing special about him, but neither was he ugly. With blue eyes that glinted from under a sweep of dull blond hair, slicked back over his head. They trailed down me with a hungry look that zeroed in on my still-hardened nipples, nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. Suppressing a shudder, I folded my arms tight across my chest. When his lecherous gaze finally landed on my face, his smile was neither warm nor friendly. Warning bells rang through my body, ones I knew better than to ignore as I glanced to the guard still in his spot, facing forward and paying this man no attention.
“You forgot these.” His oily voice rolled over me, as in his hand he held up blue scraps, the dark lace contrasting grossly against his pale fingers.
“Why do you have them?” I was already dressed in the clothes I’d been left this morning, I didn’t need any more.
He thrust them at me, and in my surprise, I scrabbled for them, but he didn’t let go and we were left standing in the doorway both holding on. Though eager to be away from him and not enjoying the fact my underwear was in his hands, I held on tighter.
His widening smile sent revulsion skittering across my skin. I swallowed down my disgust, wanting nothing more than to have the door closed firmly between us.
The creep tugged, and I started forward in alarm before planting my feet, but he let go with a taunting laugh. I hurried to slam the door, but he threw a hand out, halting its progress with a bang. His feet butted against the threshold and, not quite satisfied from earlier, my magik was quick to respond to the anger that sparked to life.
“I can see why they’re hiding you up here.” His leering face was now only inches from mine, hot sour breath blowing across my cheek, and it took everything in me not to turn away.
It took even more restraint not to launch myself forward and crack my skull into his nose. Instead, I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, letting the rush of pain help control my rage at this man invading my space.
“Blue’s my favourite colour.” He smirked.
I reeled back, pushing out a frantic burst of magik that slammed into the door, the wood groaning in protest as in the seconds it took for it to seal shut, I heard his mocking laugh.
That was fucking unpleasant.
I felt strangely safe on this side of the door, reassured that there was no way he could get in.
Throwing the clothes onto the bed, I watched the silky scraps slid to the floor. There was no way I was putting them on. The contents of my lunch churned at thought.
I could add that to the growing list of things I didn’t know. Kicking the offending items under the bed, I pulled down a deep breath as I ran my tongue over the dent in my cheek I had made with my teeth. My eyes bounced around the room scanning for what felt like the hundredth time, willing something— anything —to have changed.
But the painting of fruit was still a painting of fruit, the peony was still in perfect condition, and my face still reflected back to me in the blank TV screen.
Despite the dark canvas I could see how my skin glowed, eyes that, despite the creepy guard, were bright and alive. This place soothed my soul, fed my energy and filled a part of me I didn’t know had been hollow.
Guilt found me then.I should be running home to Nanna, and I wanted to, but part of me was desperate to know more about this kingdom and not just for a way to escape it.
A way to understand it, to understand me.
Kaius thought I was Fae because I could wield magik, but so could Nanna Alba. And so could Briar. Sure, I hadn’t seen them use the amount of power I had in that room with the prince, but if that made me Fae, then it made them one, too?
Did they know? Is that why I grew up immersed in a world of magik and folklore?
To keep the Fae away , Nanna Alba said when she burnt sticks of myrrh.
Was that more than superstition? My mind tripped over itself as it whirled from memory to memory.
The wards we had all studiously erected, the talismans she made constantly, there had been times I’d laughed them off and she had begged me to take it home. I reached for the familiar comfort of the pendant that was no longer around my neck, and I dropped my hand with a sigh.
I desperately needed to organise the information blazing through my mind, needed to find a way to make it make sense. Wrenching open the drawers in front of me, I was certain I'd seen a stub of pencil in one of them. I found the first empty and slammed it shut. A few black buttons rattled in the second as I shoved it back. The third drawer revealed the small, thin pencil rolling around inside, and I laughed in victory. It was blunt, but I could work with that. I needed paper.
I chewed my lip for a moment, eyeing the old books stacked under the TV and considering if I was really going to write all over one.
Fuck it, I’m doing it.
Right now, it was my only option and picking out the most boring looking one— Stein’s Introduction to Fungi —I sat on the bed to flick through the book before realising there were few blank pages.
Without hesitation, I put pencil to paper, scribbling down everything I could remember in every available space, underlining the things I needed to find out more of in a hurried disjointed scrawl that I doubted even I would be able to decipher.
The pencil soon became unusable, and knowing I wasn’t going to find a sharpener hidden in here, I turned to the mostly blunt knife that came with dinner, because who would give a prisoner a pointy object? But it was enough to sharpen make it useable again.
When I had written down all I knew about this place, I moved onto Nanna and the things she had told me as I was growing up. The things she had done.
Flipping to the back of the book, past numerous depictions of mushrooms, I hesitantly wrote about the nightmares that plagued me—nothing in detail, just the basic points. Next, I added the moments with the forest and overhearing the conversation between Bastian and Marcellus, explaining them the best I could.
I would find the answers, I was sure of it.