Chapter Twenty
Asher
T he gardens were bright and full and perfect. As was everything in this horrid place.
Though I was eager to leave and not see the golden palace looming above or around me, I still found myself walking the path. Truly, it was because I missed Bellamy. I made it to the bench where I had sat with him that first night and nearly wept. Grazing my fingers across the gold-painted concrete bench, I thought of how his lips had felt against mine. How he had told me of his desire to be more than what the world had demanded he be.
Too much. The memories were too much. I fell to my knees, gasping for air as I reminded myself how real it had all been. There was no way I could have made the rest of it up. Not that sort of love.
“You keep doing this, convincing yourself it was real,” Wrath said as he appeared to my right. “Yes, you shared a wonderful moment with the Fire here. But the rest of it was a lie. Did you even go to that market with him? Or had you dreamt that up and convinced yourself it was reality? What do you think Eternity’s price is for your power, Asher? A lost mind maybe?”
“Why are you doing this, Wrath? Why not just leave me alone?” I asked despite knowing what he would say. His chilling smile of sharp teeth conveyed the fact that he was aware of my understanding too.
“I do what you wish me to do. What that insanity that plagues you wishes I do.” His tail swished slowly behind him as he sat and stared at me. Eerie. Far less cute than he had been in life. Finally, I understood Henry’s distaste for Wrath.
“You are—” I cut myself off, my eye catching on a flower beneath the bench that was not quite the same soft purple as the lavender plants that grew here. No, this was a deeper purple, like an unripe plum. Bending down further, I was also able to catch sight of berries. Nearly black in color. “Belladonna.”
I remembered the plant only because Nicola had been so interested in it.
“A berry that tastes sweet but can kill? What an unsettling and intriguing little plant!” she had said after I told her about what I learned in a Healer class.
Since then, Nicola had become obsessed with it. She even had Mia craft her one that she kept on her windowsill in her chambers within the palace. And it looked just like these.
Sterling had called it nightshade. He had said they were poisoning us with it.
“Or maybe she grew it for your friend and you are using real memories to create fake ones,” Wrath countered with a chuckle.
“Guard!” I shouted, hitting my head on the way up. I was rubbing the sore spot when the guard came running around the corner, her black armor clinking together as she darted my way.
“Your Highness! How can I be of service to you?” Quite frazzled, the fae did not inquire why I was on the ground or why my hands were now slightly purple. Clearly, she was just eager to help me and be on with her day. That was perfect.
“Are you a Fire by any chance?”
“Um…well, yes, I am.”
“Excellent.” Calling to my magic, and begging it would go easy on my already aching head after this, I pushed into her mind. There had been no shield, no fortification, nothing but free access. Hastily, I sat up straighter and lowered my tone to that of The Manipulator. “Burn these flowers. Burn every flower in this garden and then forget you ever left your post.”
Then I stood, walking away to the sweet smell of cruelty alight and a horrid ache in my head. They were still poisoning me somehow. I had not eaten again since being in Sterling’s chambers, so it must have been a different way. Wrath followed silently at my side, weaving through my legs here and there. When the path ended, I cut through the grass and made my way to the far docks where we would depart.
I had always dreamed of seeing the realm I was raised to lead. But now, even though I knew Nicola was plotting something, I felt as if it were sullied. Ruined. My feet dragged, dirt probably staining my shoes. I was meant to take the carriage, but my desire for solitude and fresh air outweighed the ache in my legs.
“It will take you hours to get there,” Wrath huffed. He never said we.
“Well then, I hope you have more entertaining things to say than calling me crazy. Perhaps a song?”
***
By the time I arrived at the docks, the pain in my head had become piercing and my feet felt as if they might fall off. The sun was high in the sky, bright and fierce. Still summer, I had learned. I had been asleep mere days rather than months.
“You are late,” Sterling chided from where he leaned against a wooden pole upon the dock. His curls were perfectly coiled atop his head, his body clad in the vibrant gold of royal fae. A gold band twin to my own that now burned in the gardens was once more on his finger. Mia had insisted.
The ship loomed behind him, far out into the water and much larger than it needed to be for a voyage from isle to isle. They were not so far apart that we required something so exquisite. But of course the royals would request this.
“If this is when I got here then everyone else is early,” I said. Sterling laughed, tossing his head back, and I found it impossible not to join in.
“Then why can you not just be happy with this male, Strange One?” Wrath asked as Sterling reached out a hand, the prince’s eyes snagging on my ringless finger. My heart lurched to a stop at the insinuation the dalistori was making.
“You go ahead, I want to stay on solid land for as long as I can.” A smile graced my face, I could feel it, but inside my mind, thoughts—memories—fluttered like butterflies.
Sterling seemed hesitant to board the small boat that would take us to the ship, his nose scrunched and lips pursed. Eventually he nodded and turned.
“You know why,” I whispered to Wrath. We watched as a guard rowed Sterling out, and then the prince was climbing a rope ladder. He made it up quickly, approaching who must have been the captain. His smile was exuberant even in the distance, his soul ready to adventure once more. “He is not Bellamy.”
“Yes, your imaginary lover. Do tell me how that goes for the rest of your unfortunately long life.”
“I could not have imagined him. He is far better than I ever deserved. Especially after Sipho. You think me more creative than I am.”
“Yet here you stand, speaking to a talking cat that no one else sees.” My mouth opened, prepared to deliver a retort, but nothing came out.
He was right.
Wrath disappeared after that, my mind done playing games for now.
I waited on the docks for a few more minutes, trying to imagine what Bellamy was doing at that moment.
“You will be okay, Asher.” Nicola’s appearance scared me enough that I jumped slightly to the right. Gripping my chest, I looked over to her and grimaced. She was wearing a thin and simple dress the same shade of purple as the belladonna berries, her thick curls twisting down her back. She smiled in a way that made me wonder if whatever was in store for me was terribly bleak and she just did not want to admit it.
“Will you?” I asked quietly, stepping back towards her. “Be okay, I mean.”
“Yes. Kafele is waiting for me. We live in the Warden’s estate in the Yesterday Lands now. You will see us soon. I doubt they will let you be on each isle for more than a day or two.” She came closer, grabbing me by the shoulders and tucking me into a hug. I felt her lips briefly graze my ear just before she whispered, “Remember who you are while away. Remember who you have vowed to save.”
And then she pulled away, smiling softly and gripping my hand before walking away. I tightened my fist as I watched her head down the dock, prepared to board a much smaller vessel and go home to her husband. Her life she had made in my absence.
Remember who I had vowed to save.
By the time I made it to the deck of the ship, my hand was aching. I walked all the way to the front, stopping at the railing and looking at the vast ocean. Isle Shifter loomed somewhere out there, ready to greet us.
Finally, I grew the courage and looked down at my open hand. There in my palm sat a small amethyst.
“Well that is pretty. Reminds me of your old necklace.” Xavier’s voice startled me, my skin crawling at the nearness of him. He had burned me, cut me, broke me. Now, he stood mere feet from me, his smile so full it showed his dimple through his barely-there facial hair. His dark waves were loose, reaching just past his shoulders. As always, he wore head-to-toe gold and his crown of gilded flames. “Sorry, Ash. I did not mean to scare you.”
“Odd that torturing me is perfectly fine but scaring me by accident is not,” I hissed, closing my fist tightly and hiding the crystal. There was a sense of foreboding as I looked at him. As if this moment would change fate itself.
Xavier seemed unusually still as he contemplated what I said. I wondered if my words struck him somewhere deeper than they normally did; if, perhaps, he felt remorse. Still, I knew it would not be enough.
“I am sorry that we were tough on you when you were younger. We just needed you to be ready for this world—for this crown. Your power, it is dangerous and unpredictable. At least, it was. But now look at you.” He gestured towards me with both hands, like a farmer showing his prized pig. The one they would later slaughter. “You are a queen, Ash. We are so proud.”
Gods they were convincing. Just as my golden gown and my tiara were. It felt like being back in the palace last year, waiting for and then basking in his approval. If only I had known then just how different real love was. Love was not punishing someone for things they could not change. It did not come with limits or rules. It was unconditional.
“You can pretend like you did not imprison me and that everything is normal, but I know the truth, Xavier. You are not on my side unless I am useful to you, and I promise I never will be again,” I vowed. His eyes went wide, darting quickly to the stairs that led below deck before zeroing in on me again. “Remember that the next time you want to have a sweet little conversation about our past and future.”
With that, I pushed off the railing and turned, heading towards the rooms I knew they would have for me. The only thing worse than being cornered by Xavier would be running into Mia, but I needed to be alone and escape the suffocating presence of lies.
But of course, Xavier would not allow me that peace.
“Play a game of chess with me.” His tone was nearly pleading, a grim sense of desperation pouring from him. Though I knew better than to believe in his false love, my own once unflinching admiration for him flickered like a fading fire somewhere deep in my chest. “It has been far too long since I taught you a lesson in strategy.”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, looking over my shoulder to glare his way.
Xavier’s entreating eyes squinted slightly, a returning glare forming as he breathed in the defiant air around me. “You have the choice to say yes or for me to make you.”
“Fine.”
“Excellent, I have already set it up in my rooms.”
Of course he had.
We moved silently down the hall of doors, me fuming and him smiling broadly—mood much improved by my submission. Stabbing him would be so wonderfully rewarding. Sadly, all I could do was walk through the door as he held it open and take my seat at the small wooden table. The floors creaked below our feet and chairs as we got comfortable. His bed was small and modest, the quilt a deep gold and the dresser a faded cherry wood. The cramped space felt as if it might suffocate me, damp air not quite filling my lungs before it was fleeing my body.
“As always, white first,” Xavier said, pointing a finger at me. I nodded silently, wishing more than anything to have this game over so I could be alone and free of his clutches. I made my move, eyes darting up to his.
“In chess, the player who makes the first move has a higher chance of success. Why is that, Ash?” he inquired as he too moved a piece. In my youth, I had eagerly looked forward to these lessons. Xavier’s time and presence had been worth more than gold to me. Strange how times change.
“Because they set the tone. To make the first move is to choose the stakes. If chess were an orchestra, white would be the conductor,” I answered, eyeing the board as we continued to battle. He was not going easy on me, but I was also not willing to give in without a fight.
“Interesting.”
“Are you saying I am wrong?”
He did not answer me for a while, instead choosing to mercilessly attack.
“I think you gave the answer most would.” Xavier took another piece as he spoke, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. As if he had won already.
“And that is somehow not the correct one?” I hissed, moving next.
“I agree that there is an advantage to making the first move. I also think it creates a false sense of security. That those who go into a battle thinking they have won are often too short-sighted to truly do so. Even worse, those who believe they will lose often do.” Another of my pieces done. Xavier was moving too quickly, and I was out of practice. “Life is a game of strategy, just as chess is. Your mind is your greatest strength and your heart is your greatest weakness.”
“So you think it is psychological?“ I asked, my eyes darting across the board, trying to see a way free of the place he had backed me into.
“I think that I have beaten you with the black pieces enough to know that anyone can win. There is no such thing as a guaranteed victory. If your enemy is smart, then there is no such thing as an advantage either.” With that Xavier moved again, and I was trapped. “Checkmate.”