23. The Prince Is A Prick
For the first time in my life, I wished my brain would just stop. I wished it would stop analysing, looking for ways I might have done better. Ways I could improve. I didn’t want to know, not this time. I didn’t want to remember it all. Yet, I could think of nothing else as we trudged silently through the woods.
It was fully dark by the time we reached the border of Tir o Haf. Thousands of stars winked overhead, and the moonlight gilding the wildflowers made them look like a shimmering sea of silver, rippling in the balmy breeze. I marvelled briefly that beauty could still exist, even after the events of the evening. Even with the dead witch still clutched in the prince’s arms. Idris carried his burden without a word of complaint. He hadn’t slowed, or faltered, or asked to rest. An alien bubble of admiration had lodged itself in my chest, and my darkly swirling emotions were unable to burst it. I’d doubted him, mistrusted him, but he’d wordlessly knelt in the dirt beside me and tried to save a life. Maybe carrying Hyacinth was the punishment he inflicted on himself for what he saw as his failure. I wanted to tell him that none of it was his fault, but finding such words would mean absolving myself of my own crushing failure, and I wasn’t ready to free myself of it just yet.
Instead, I chose to walk at his back as we crossed the sleeping meadow, my silent show of support. Of shared guilt. Whatever he felt, it could be nothing to my own failure. I knew that Hyacinth’s cause had been hopeless from the moment I’d seen the blood gushing from her thigh, but that didn’t ease the weight of my guilt. Of how useless I had been, when it mattered most.
I couldn’t summon surprise, or even relief, when we reached the border unhindered, and Sage pulled out the same dark void of a crystal she had used to take me from her cottage to Nairsgarth. When she muttered the incantation, and the crystal turned into a swirling black hole, sucking in the silver of the night bathed meadow, I found no awe to spare.
“The princes first,” Sage insisted, standing back to make way, “then Aliza.”
I kept my eyes on Idris’ back until he vanished into the void, and I followed him as though the portal was nothing but an ordinary door.
The all-engulfing darkness was nothing compared to that inside me.
Pansy was gone.
No sooner had she spilt out of the portal onto the castle floor, than the witch had staggered to her feet and fled the room. Nobody had followed her. I’d wanted to, but Sage had dragged me through the corridors to meet with Granny.
Now I slumped in an armchair staring at my hands draped limply in my lap while Sage relayed the whole sorry tale to the High Priestess. I hadn’t even been given time to scrub Hyacinth’s blood from my skin. It stained my cuticles almost black, clinging to the crevices of my knuckles.
Sage’s voice hummed in my ears, barely making sense. As far as I knew or cared, she was giving the old bat a blow-by-blow account of our journey to the tower. Prince Anwir was standing at her side, filling in the details of what had occurred after his waking. Idris had disappeared almost as quickly as Pansy. What had become of Hyacinth’s body, I didn’t know. I couldn’t care about any of it. I was numb, inside and out. The only part of me with any feeling was my palms, where I could still feel Hyacinth’s sternum. Feel the lack of a heartbeat.
I flexed my finger. Dry, powdery blood flaked free, drifting to my lap in a gruesome cloud. An unbidden, shuddering breath sucked into my chest, and before I could stop them, tears rolled down my cheeks.
Hyacinth was dead. I had failed to save her. It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t a people doctor, and I’d done everything possible given the circumstances. That didn’t change the fact that Hyacinth would still be alive if I’d stayed on my side of the rift. Pansy would still have a mother.
My vision blurred but I didn’t dare wipe my eyes with blood-stained hands. I gave myself over to my guilt, letting it manifest as ugly sobs and sniffs and unchecked tears.
Warm hands closed around mine. I tried to shift away, conscious of the blood, but whoever it was held on, squeezing gently. That small comfort, that show of support, opened the floodgates, and I wept until I had nothing left to give, and then some more.
When my tears finally ran dry, I found Anwir crouched before me, clasping my hands in his. This close, his eyes were stunning. Pale apple with little flares of gold around the pupil, all framed in lashes as dark as his raven hair.
“Are you well, Aliza?” he asked, his voice as soft as velvet.
I shook my head. “I’ve never lost a person before.”
Who did I think I was? Of course I hadn’t lost a person before, I was a vet, or near enough. I’d witnessed countless lives ending, and I’d spend the rest of my life easing the passing of others. It was my job. My duty. My heartbreaking honour to bring peace when no cure could be found. But no matter how painful all of that had been, no matter how many evenings I’d gone home and cried into my pillow, this was worse. I’d lost a person. My friend”s mother. I’d been helpless. I had failed.
“Hyacinth knew the risk.”
I blinked, searching, and sure enough, I found Sage watching me impassively. Did she feel nothing? Had she already buried the death of her friend beneath a marble smooth surface?
“She chose to support you on this quest, knowing full well it might mean her death.”
“You did all you could,” Anwir offered his own, rather more effective brand of comfort. “Look at you. You have no magic. You are so young, and yet, you did what none of us could do. You tried.”
I nodded, swallowing. He was right. I knew it well enough, just as I knew that, eventually, time would soothe my emotions, and bolster the logic that was all too easy to ignore tonight. I’d done all I could. Even in the human world, with paramedics and doctors and surgeons on hand, Hyacinth’s injuries would have been critical. Nobody could have done more given the circumstances. But for now, it hurt. I would let it hurt, and eventually, I would let it heal.
Sliding my hands out of Anwir’s grasp, I rose to my feet. I needed a bath, and maybe even some sleep, if my brain would allow it, before…
“I’d like to go to the rift tomorrow.”
Sage betrayed not a flicker of emotion, but her eyes darted to Anwir. Mine followed, finding the prince frowning up at me from where he crouched.
“Why?” He stood, his eyes still fixed on me.
Oh, God. Not now.
I sighed. I didn’t have the energy or the headspace to justify my choices again. Was he actually expecting me to claim my prize by marrying him? If only I’d kept my mouth shut.
“Aliza does not wish to be queen.” There was the faintest hint of mockery in Sage’s voice.
“I beg your pardon?” Granny interjected, stomping her stick from where she lounged in her throne-like chair.
“I want to go home,” I said flatly. I felt like a parrot, doomed to repeat the same phrases for all of time. “I never wanted any of this.”
“Nonsense!” The old bat said the word like it closed the matter. “You are the Human Queen. You broke the curse. It’s expected.”
“I don’t care what’s expected,” I snapped. “I never wanted to come here. It was an accident. I never wanted to marry a prince, or rule a kingdom, or even live forever.” Though, admittedly, that particular reward was pretty tempting. “I never wanted to break a curse that had nothing to do with me. Everything I’ve done has been so I can go home.”
“You won’t marry me?” Anwir sounded… hurt.
I almost rolled my eyes. Had he been expecting my love? Had his efforts at kindness, at friendship, been forced, all because he believed in some prophecy nonsense? Had it been an obligation?
“Of course I won’t. No offence, but I don’t even know you. I have a life of my own. Family, friends, a job. I won’t give that up for someone I just met.”
“But… you broke the curse.”
“Yes.” My tone oozed impatience. I was sick to death of everything and everyone. “So the rifts would open and I could go home.”
“That is no manner in which to address a prince,” Granny decreed indignantly, but Anwir held up a placating hand.
“I never expected—”
“What?” From somewhere, deep inside, I managed to pull a sardonic smirk. “You never expected a woman would refuse you? A prince? We’re not all desperate for a husband anymore, Your Highness. We have our own minds. Our own lives. Freedom. We don’t rely on men anymore.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I only thought to say… the thing is, Aliza, queen or not, I need you. Your role didn’t end when I awoke.”
Oh great. That did not sound promising.
“Even before my uncle cursed me, for thousands of years in fact, there have been whispers of a prophecy. The first fae queen saw a great evil befalling her line. The only way to scourge it is with the Human Queen. I don’t know exactly what that means, nobody does, but you are the key to me taking back this kingdom. I cannot do it without you at my side.”
“No.” I was sick of this. Sick of being used. “I will not marry you.”
“I’m not asking you to,” he insisted. “I have no wish for a wife who holds me in such disdain, but would you not consider staying a little longer? Pretending? The people will want you at my side. I need their support. I need yours. I can’t win back my kingdom without it.”
I turned my glare on Sage. A faint smile played at the corners of her mouth.
“You knew.” I barely recognised my low, hate-filled voice. “You knew and lied, every step of the way. You swore I could go home.”
“I swore nothing.”
“And you!” I turned my anger on the undeserving prince. “If you can’t take back your kingdom without my help, then maybe you’re no king at all.”
I didn’t give Anwir a chance to reply. Following Pansy and Idris’ lead, I stormed from the room, slamming the heavy door as hard as I could.
My walk through the castle and into the surrounding grounds revealed one thing. Everybody was surprised to see me alive. Shocked faces turned in my direction, whispers and exclamations following me like the smell of a rabbit hutch. They all wanted to know if it was done, if the curse was broken. I ignored them all. As far as I could see, the curse was very much intact.
Sage was a lying bitch, but I was angry at myself. I should have known better than to trust her. I’d known she was using me. Maybe even Jacques was in this elaborate deceit. Why hadn’t I heeded my doubts about the rifts? I’d bet my life they’d never been sealed at all. All this time wasted, and now the princes were awake, and King Maelgwyn would be hunting me. There was no way I’d make it to the rift alone.
I’d missed my chance.
I hesitated in the gardens, staring down the long path I’d walked down not days ago on my journey to find the princes. It seemed like a different life, not mine at all. In the distance, the castle walls rose in a protective circle, only they looked more like prison walls from this side of the curse. If I made for the gate, would anyone stop me? And if they didn’t, how long would I last out there in that terrible world? An hour? A day?
Sighing, I veered off the path and stomped towards a little copse of trees, and the glittering lake beyond. With every step, a little of my anger leaked out of me. Maybe I was too tired to hold on to it, or maybe it was just that the lake looked so pretty, glinting silver in the moonlight with a rainbow of fairies scattered amongst the reeds. Either way, I felt slightly less murderous as I ducked under a low branch and wove through the trees.
I was not alone.
As I neared the lake edge, a pair of bare feet, crossed at the ankle, appeared behind a tree. I fell still, and in the absence of my footsteps, a faint scratching drifted to me.
“I know you’re there, human.” Idris’ voice was bored. “You walk with all the grace of a rampaging dragon.”
I continued my stomping, and the prince came into view. He sat leaned against a broad tree trunk, a pencil in one hand and a small, battered leather-bound book in the other. As I passed, he angled the book carefully, hiding it from me, but didn’t bother to look up from its pages.
Fine. What did I care what he was up to?
Pebbles shifted and crunched underfoot as I made my way to the water’s edge. Maybe I’d dip my feet in the cool water. They’d been stuffed inside hiking boots for far too long. I focused on the starlit ripples gliding across the lake. I snatched up a pebble and hurled it at the tranquil pool. It plunked beneath the surface and sank like a house brick.
“If you were trying to skip stones, that was abysmal.”
Ignoring his remark with all the dignity I could muster, I sat on the lumpy ground, hugging my knees to my chest. Idris could go and boil his head for all I cared. Gone was my former admiration. Well, no, I couldn’t fault him for his efforts, or his actions tonight, but the fact remained that he’d been nothing but an arse since the moment he’d opened his eyes. He had none of Anwir’s manners, and though I was still furious with the latter, I couldn’t help but compare him favourably to his sulking, bad tempered twin.
“What do you want?” The prince’s deep, cool voice was edged with impatience, but the low chesty rumble eased some of the tension in my shoulders all the same. It was a pleasant voice, one that I might have enjoyed listening to if every word that had passed his lips so far hadn’t been condescending and downright rude.
“Don’t pretend to care what I want. Nobody else does.” I wanted to cringe at my petulant remark, but I was still too angry. Besides, I was right. The witches and now the prince had made it perfectly clear that I was a pawn, and they would take and take with no regard for me or my feelings.
“I’m not pretending,” Idris said. “I genuinely do not care in the slightest, but as you’re intruding on my space, you could at least explain yourself.”
“I didn’t realise you owned the grounds, Your Royal Highness,” I mocked, my foul mood blooming once more. “And besides, didn’t you want me to ‘shut up’? Why bother speaking to me now?”
The scratch of his pencil resuming was the only answer I got. It mingled with the chirp of insects and the hum of late-night fairies, a rhythm of rapid scratches followed by a pause, repeating. Was he drawing?
I propped my chin on my knees, staring unseeingly over the lake.
“What were you doing earlier,” Idris asked at length, “with the witch’s body?”
I stiffened. I didn’t want to talk about that. The last thing I needed was to end up crying in front of this unfeeling prick. But as ever, I couldn’t resist elaborating. Science and medicine were wonderful things, as good as any magic. Just because it didn’t always yield the desired results, it didn’t take away from my amazement. Maybe it had no place in this world, but knowledge was power, and maybe Idris could learn something from me. The thought almost made me smile.
“CPR,” I offered, keeping the spark of passion in my voice to a minimum. God forbid the prince knew how much of a nerd I was when it came to this stuff. He’d only use it against me somehow. “Cardiopulmonary resuscitation. It’s a lifesaving emergency procedure. Or, at least, it can be… Why?” I twisted to look at him, only to find him studying his drawing. “Don’t you have CPR here?”
“I would have thought you could guess as much from the reaction of the daughter.”
“Yeah, well. I had other things on my mind.”
“Indeed.”
“Anyway, the idea behind CPR is that it keeps oxygenated blood flowing through the body after a cardiac arrest. It’s even been known to restart the heart, or at least keep things moving until a defibrillator can be used.”
Idris finally deigned to look at me. He raised a questioning eyebrow.
“A defibrillator sends an electric shock to the heart. It can restore the rhythm.”
I thought of Hyacinth, bleeding out on the forest floor. A defibrillator would have made no difference, not with that amount of blood loss. I looked at my hands again, still stained red. I scrambled to the water’s edge and dipped them into the lake. I rubbed and twisted, trying to free myself of Hyacinth’s ghost. Who was I trying to fool? It would haunt me until my last breath. I swiped my hands on my trousers. They weren’t clean, but they were better than they had been. I turned to the prince.
“What are you drawing?”
He’d resumed his sketching and didn’t pause or look up at my question. “None of your business.”
“I answered loads of questions.”
“And yet, I asked only two, one of which you failed to answer. You like the sound of your own voice, human.”
“I have a name.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Fine, fae. What are you drawing?”
He snapped the book shut, fixing me with a glare so similar to his brother’s and yet lacking all of his warmth. “Nothing. Not anymore.”
“What are you doing out here?”
“Trying to get away from you.”
I scowled.
“And everyone else,” he conceded, losing some of his waspishness but assuming an air of extreme boredom.
“I’d have thought that after a few centuries sealed in a box you might be glad of company. Especially after tonight.”
“Perhaps I grew fond of the silence.”
I couldn’t relate. He was right about one thing; I did love to talk. Maybe not as much as Pansy, but I enjoyed the company of other people. Most of the time. Except when they were Idris.
“Are you… okay? After what happened?” I dared to ask, bracing myself for a stinging reply.
None came. Instead, he asked, “What are you doing out here?”
I picked up another pebble and threw it at the lake. It did no better than the first. “The witches lied to me.”
I wouldn’t mention Anwir, not to his brother. It probably wouldn’t go down well. But what had Anwir called Idris? Tedious? I snorted. He wasn’t wrong.
“About?”
“About everything, I think.” I heaved a sigh, my shoulders sagging. “Ever since my first day here, all I’ve wanted was to go home. They said the rifts were closed, and that the only way to open them was to wake you two. Is that true?”
“As a victim of said curse, I wasn’t privy to its inner workings.”
“Oh. Well, anyway. Now they’re asking me to stay longer, to pretend I wan—I mean, to pretend I’m going to marry your brother and be this ridiculous Human Queen.”
“You don’t want to be queen?”
“No.”
The scratch of his pencil resumed. “You seemed to be enjoying my brother’s company. Do you mean to tell me you’re not falling over yourself to put on a pretty dress and marry the charming prince?”
I smiled. I actually smiled. For the first time, Idris and I seemed to be on the same page. “Believe it or not, no. I want…” I trailed off, my throat restricting, my eyes stinging. My earlier numbness had long since vanished, and it was only in its absence that I realised what a blessing it had been. There were too many emotions fighting for space inside me. Hope was still there, though it dimmed with every passing day. I missed Mum and Dad, and the cramped house that I’d desperately wanted us to escape from. I missed my friends and the future I’d toiled for and earned with my own sacrifice and determination. A future I could be proud of because I’d forged it myself. Not this one. Not this glittering, magical prophecy. I looked up at the smattering of glimmering stars beyond the canopy of leaves, so beautiful, so vivid, compared to the night skies of the human world. “I want to go home.”
“Anwir will win back his kingdom soon enough. The palace of Tir o Haf is quite something.”
“What?” I turned to give him a questioning look. Was it my imagination, or were his eyes rimmed in red? I couldn’t quite tell in the dark, but the skin around them looked darker. He looked exhausted. I’d never seen such dark shadows hang beneath anyone’s eyes before. “No, I mean, my home. The human world. I want to go back.”
“Oh really?”
He didn’t even look at me, the ignorant prick. He just lounged against the tree trunk, sketching away, his dark hair flopping into his eyes, his long legs crossed at the ankles.
“I know you don’t care, you arrogant, immortal bastard, but you insisted I answer your stupid question. I won’t bother next time.”
He made a small breathy noise as one side of his lips curved, revealing the slightest glimpse of teeth. The nearest thing to a smile I’d seen from him. “It’s not that I don’t care, I just don’t believe you.”
He really was a tit. I should have left him locked away, sleeping off his curse, where he couldn’t sneer at any of us.
“Well, I don’t care what you think,” I retorted, turning my attention back to the lake.
“Snappy.”
I ignored him, and the lick of indignation. I should have turned away the moment I’d spotted his feet sticking out from behind the tree.
“Humans are all the same,” he drawled on. Apparently, talking wasn’t such a chore when it involved assaulting me with an endless stream of snide comments. “They only consider what they can gain from us. The others have told you you’re special, have they not? Not at all like every other desperate mortal woman to crawl through that gate. But they’re lying. You’re no different, no better.”
“I didn’t choose to come here, you know.”
“Perhaps, but you certainly didn’t put up a fight when Sage promised you immortality as a reward for doing the right thing, did you?”
“I begged and begged to go home,” I countered, but he was right.
I hadn’t put up much of a fight. Had I made any real attempts to get home? No. Was it really because I’d wanted to help, or because of the shiny promise of immortality? The worst part was, I could barely remember. Those days seemed to belong to another life already, another person. I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. Surely not the same woman who had slipped on a wet stone and ruined her entire life.
“Then you would have left us to rot in those tombs?”
God, I couldn’t win with him, could I? Whatever I did, whatever I thought, it was wrong.
A pair of pale feet appeared silently on the pebbles beside me. “Isn’t that so?”
To my immense surprise, he bent his knees and sank into a crouch, fixing me with his calculating gaze, so similar to his brother’s, but different somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on it yet. It was like a forgotten word, hovering on the edges of my brain. Infuriating. That wasn’t the answer, but it would do until I figured it out. Yes, the way he looked at me was infuriating. He hadn’t looked in my direction this long since meeting me. I turned away, focusing my attention on the ripples.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I really don’t. What does it matter? You’re awake now.”
He rose gracefully to his feet, and when he spoke, his voice was cold. “Who says I want to be?”
It took a long moment for his words to register. When they finally slogged into my brain, I whipped my head around, my mouth falling open to release a tangled spill of words that never came.
He’d gone.