10. Kiaran
Kiaran
I n all my life, I was sure I’d never wanted to kill and kiss something as badly as I wanted to right now.
For two hundred years, Fern had the power to summon a piece of my home, and she’d made me sleep on a lumpy mattress with a quilt that was more holes than fabric. I’d worn the same few shirts and pants she’d given me every day, and never, not once, had she done anything this kind for me.
I was sure it was more for Amelie than anything.
This was her first time up here, and I’m surprised it took her so long to notice the state of it.
But it didn’t surprise me that this was the one place in the house Fern just so happened to not redo, but still, it dug at me a bit that I wasn’t good enough alone to live in the luxury Amelie was given.
A big difference in Fern’s eyes might be that, according to Amelie’s thoughts, I was a moody bitch, and Amelie was nothing but kind and pure with a touch of crazy.
I felt imprisoned here, but for Amelie it was a sanctuary.
Our reasons for taking up residence in the Forest alone was enough to know the difference between us.
Amelie told Fern I’d be kinder to her in exchange for her sprucing up the attic, but this was too much.
This was something I could never repay Fern for .
So I started with the one thing I’m not sure I’d ever said to her. “Thank you, Fern. This means the world to me.”
She greeted me with a warm hug of wind, and it seemed as good a place as any to call a truce with the sentient cottage.
I sank all of my weight into my soft bed. My massive, perfectly comfortable bed. I wrapped myself in the blanket that still smelled just like my mother’s incense she burned around the house to ward off negative energy. It smelled like home.
Winter Solstice was coming, less than a month and a half away. Amelie’s arrival initially seemed like a gift from my Coven, my way home. But she was mortal. Falling for a mortal wasn’t natural, the High Table wouldn’t mingle the two worlds.
The High Priestesses words plagued my mind,
You are bound to the cottage in the mortal realm, in an enchanted Forest. In order to break your curse you will need to make an impossible sacrifice.
You must offer your Coven something of value to you on Winter Solstice.
You will have one chance, each year to be untethered.
It must be of such value that handing it over to us will cause you unimaginable pain.
If it does not mirror the pain you caused, it will not suffice.
Let the longest night approach and with it, the weight of your choice. Let your mind fill with every other option you think you have and may you find no reprieve. You will spend eternity there, Kiaran McCalmont. Until you feel the curse lock into place, you will be alone.
This would be my two-hundredth attempt and I came up empty once again on what they needed from me.
It was impossible to know what I could sacrifice to them to atone for what I did.
I’d already accepted that nothing would ever meet that level of pain.
My one shot was Amelie, and after our short time together, I wasn’t sure I could ever sacrifice that silly, ethereal woman.
Thankfully, her blood didn’t even make her an option.
Studying the painting, it felt like maybe the curse was only to drive me mad.
To take me away from all that I knew and let the pain of that be my penance.
I wondered what my sister looked like now.
She was an adorable and annoying child. One that I tried to get rid of constantly.
The Black Magic I’d learned came in handy when I wanted to cast a portal and toss her through it.
Knowing now that had she not come back every time, I would’ve missed her terribly.
She was a shy kid. She giggled constantly but would try to stifle it, causing her to snort when she laughed.
I hoped she still had that funny quirk. I imagined her as a radiant beacon in the Coven now.
Someone everyone trusted and loved. Who used her magic to better Avonya.
By now, I hoped that her fated mate had found her and treated her with respect.
Would she be a mother now? She would be the best mom.
She took such care of her dolls and the babies around the village.
My mother and father were still alive, at least. You knew when your parents passed.
A tether to the world as you knew it snapped in your soul.
It’s said to be so painful that some people never recover.
We were lucky to live so long that it didn’t happen often, but I remember those whose parents had passed. They were never the same.
I heard Amelie’s door close at least an hour ago, but I knew she stayed up late reading her books. She often paced back and forth from the desk to the bed in the middle of the night, creaking the floorboards as she did.
Setting the painting against the lantern on the nightstand, I dressed in my new, old pajamas and went downstairs.
I saw the faint flickering of a candle under the door and smelled the caramel from her sleepy time tea. Deciding that the moment we shared earlier was enough for me to impose on her space, I knocked on the door.
“Come in,” she called.
Cracking the door open, I took in what she’d done with my old room. Amelie had the frame with blue water lilies hung on the wall, glowing in all its enchanted glory. The rug was a deep purple color with greens and golds laced in floral patterns around it.
Journals covered her desk, books with dog-eared pages piled one on top of the other sat in the corner. A mug of tea steamed on the nightstand.
She sat with crossed legs on the bed in a short, black sleep dress. It had tiny straps to hold it up, one side threatening to slip off her shoulder. Little slits on the sides showed some of her upper thigh. Much less than I saw of her in the bath, but all the more distracting.
A pen dangled from her lips as she finished reading her notes before those pretty eyes finally looked up at me.
I took a seat on the end of her bed, the farthest away I could be from the beautiful human sitting in her own perfect mess.
Her puffy lips were swollen as if she’d been chewing on them and I couldn’t help the fleeting thought at how they might taste.
Her hair was let loose from her braid and it covered her shoulders like a blanket.
Melted chocolate waves that I considered drowning in. Fucking hell, she was perfect.
“Everything okay?” She dropped the pen on the bed and focused on me. I realized my gaze had been locked on her lips and I didn’t miss the slight twitch at the side of them when she noticed it too. I loved her attention being on me.
“Yeah, no, everything is fine. I just heard you pacing around down here.”
“I’m sorry, I can be quieter,” she replied shyly. I wasn’t sure what my reason was for coming down here, but it wasn’t to tell her to be quiet.
“You’re fine. I just have really good ears. Had me wondering what was so exciting.” I thumbed through the pages of the book closest to me. The girl should be an encyclopedia on all things alchemy at this point. I don’t think she’d read anything else since the library was built.
“Actually, I’ve already read all of these.
But, I was going back through my notes because I remembered something that I wanted to try.
” Intrigued, I slid further back onto the bed and rested my back on the wall.
My legs still hung off the bed, I couldn’t believe I slept in this tiny thing for over half of my life.
No wonder I was such a moody bitch, according to Amelie’s thoughts.
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Veiling,” she said, no humor in her voice at all, but I laughed anyway.
“Don’t you want to try turning a frog into a bug or something first?”
She frowned at my suggestion.“I would never do that to my friends.”
“Your friends with the frogs?”
“Actually, why don’t you leave? I’m busy.” She popped her brows at me.
“I’m sorry, please continue. What are you wanting to veil?”
“I thought I might try to veil your curse. Then I could make up for breaking your hand.”
I stared at her, shocked. Veils of any kind were an incredibly difficult spell to perfect. So many things could go wrong, and with the amount she’d read, I knew she was aware of that.
“Professionals tried to teach us veiling in fundamentals school and I still never successfully made that elixir. While I appreciate the gesture, there’s no need for that. Besides, it’s against the law to interfere with my curse.”
“Well that’s too bad. I’m not under any orders and Fern already helped me gather almost everything I need.
There’s a few things in the clearing I need to grab and then I’ll need some of your spit,” she said it with no room to argue but I did anyway.
“I really appreciate the idea, I do. But tampering with my curse will put a target on your back from my High Priestess. I won’t do that to you. ”
“I have nowhere else to call home now, but you do. If it works, maybe you’d be able to figure out a way to go home.”
She was impossibly stubborn, but her words made my heart jump a little. The High Priestess was the only one who could open the realms to travelers, but the sentiment alone was too pure for me to deserve.
“Make your potions, Amelie, but I won’t be helping sign your death wish.”
As promised, Amelie was out the door first thing in the morning and back before I made my way downstairs for breakfast. Fern positioned a cauldron in a newly built cove off the kitchen.
Amelie was bent over it, stirring like a mad scientist. Shelves were stacked high against the curved wall behind her, empty vials lining them along with an array of ingredients.
“Oh good! You’re here. Come spit in this.” Her tongue hooked around the corner of her mouth in pure determination.