19. And The Oscar Goes to.
19
And The Oscar Goes to...
Aliza
T he sun was fully up by the time I returned to my room, this time with Idris, Sage and Anwir in tow. The dead witch was still curled up beside the wardrobe.
Sage didn’t falter as she strode to the body and crouched, studying her fellow. Anwir watched in silence, but Idris tucked me to his side. I let my head loll against his chest. Too much had happened in too short a space of time. Too much was about to happen. I just wanted to sleep, and his chest was warm and solid, yet comfortable. My eyelids fluttered.
“You’re quite sure she didn’t say anything?” Sage looked up at me, her expression grim.
“She said she was patrolling and saw the light, and then she offered to put the fire out. She said goodnight and then attacked me. That was it.”
“Did she knock before she entered the room?”
I shook my head.
Sage sighed, rising to her feet and dusting her hands over her robe. “Clearly, she hoped to catch you unawares.”
“Why though?” I asked, shrinking closer to Idris. “Why would she want to kill me? ”
I didn’t know her. How could she have such a grudge against someone she’d never spoken to?
Anwir chuckled. “She’s in no state to reveal her secrets now, is she?”
“It’s likely she was working for Maelgwyn,” Idris offered a little more helpfully, his voice dark. “I’m not the only one with spies.”
“I’m afraid you are probably right, Your Highness,” Sage agreed. “The coven has been compromised. Aliza, gather some necessities, and I’ll have another room prepared for you, with protective enchantments and guards at the door. We travel to Tir o Gaeaf this evening, but perhaps you might manage a few hours of sleep before then.”
I seriously doubted it, but I did as I was bid, studiously avoiding looking at the crime scene as I gathered a few items and followed Sage out of my suite. Idris accompanied us, never leaving my side.
Crates and chests lined the corridors. Some were being carried by pairs of witches, staggering under the weight. Was the entire coven moving to Tir o Gaeaf today? Anwir had mentioned the move at lunch yesterday, but that had been before Idris’ revelation. Before the axe hanging over all of our necks. It had only been hours since Idris had delivered his grim news, but plans were already in motion. The urgency had my stomach twisting into knots, driving home the gravity of the situation. One thing was certain, there would be no ball now.
My new room was nowhere near as grand, but it had a bed, and that was all I cared about. When I emerged from the bathroom in clean pyjamas, I found that Idris had dragged an armchair to the bedside, and taken a seat. His swords were propped beside him, within easy reach.
I smiled. “You’re still here.”
“I’m your new guard. ”
Somehow, the news didn’t surprise me, and I crawled gratefully into bed, collapsing into my pillow. The prince watched me with warm eyes.
“I’m shocked that Anwir didn’t have a tantrum about it.”
He grinned, and the sight of his fangs sent a little thrill through me. “Oh, believe me, he will when he finds out. Sage didn’t seem interested in arguing his cause, though, so here I am.”
“Aren’t you tired?” I asked, stifling a yawn.
“No.”
That was a lie. The shadows under his eyes had returned, though they were fainter than they’d been in the human world.
“Get some rest, Aliza. You’re safe.”
I wanted to believe him, but he was wrong. Safety had always been an illusion, and now the mask had been brutally torn away.
That afternoon, groggy from my fitful nap but armed with both of Claudia’s twin daggers, I made my way to Anwir’s suite. None of the harried witches I passed tried to assassinate me, and I made the short journey to the prince’s lodgings unscathed. I rapped my knuckles against the open door as I stepped into his sunlit room.
The prince looked up from a pile of papers scattered over his coffee table, half obscured by a tea tray. His nose was swollen, with green paste smothered under one eye, but he smiled, standing. “Aliza!”
His enthusiasm was obviously for the benefit of the witches hard at work, stowing his many belongings into numerous mahogany chests. He’d certainly accumulated quite a trove in the short time since I’d broken the curse. I barely allowed myself time to wonder where it had all come from and who had paid for it, before I screwed up my face, forcing my wandering thoughts back to the matter at hand. To lies and trickery.
If I was going to do this, I might as well do it right. I forced my lips to curve. “Good morning, Anwir. All set for Tir o Gaeaf?”
“You could say that. I have a small chest packed,” he gestured to an enormous wooden chest set near the door, “but the majority of my luggage will follow behind in carriages when the coven sets out.”
He heaved a sigh, as though the worst part of all of this was leaving behind his fancy jackets. To my dismay, I could relate on some level. Barely a full day after bringing them to Nairsgarth, I already had to part with the clothing I’d been so glad to reunite with. Thank god I’d packed a faux fur coat. I was going to need it in the snowy climate of Tir o Gaeaf.
Silence fell. What would I talk about with him if he wasn’t a complete ballbag?
“Did you manage any sleep?” I asked, flopping into a chair and helping myself to a sliver of frosted cake from the tray. Yeah, that seemed like an ordinary topic of conversation, even if I actually couldn’t care less for the answer.
“Not a wink.” Anwir picked up one of the papers from the table. A list had been written in precise, scrolling handwriting that I assumed belonged to him. Despite the hostility I still nursed toward him, I couldn’t help but admire his elegant penmanship. Was he an artist, like his brother ?
“This is a list of potential allies still residing in Tir o Haf. Making contact will be risky, but it’s vital we reach out.”
Right. That made sense, even if I did feel like an anxious, clueless student on her first day of war class. Some use I was going to be. That didn’t mean I couldn’t play my own hand though. I had a brain, and I was going to use it.
“I’ve been thinking about what Idris told us.”
Anwir raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for me to continue in a convincing show of genuine interest. He was probably humouring me, already prepared to offer me some soothing placation while tossing my idea out of the window and into the sea below.
“We have to do something about the rifts.”
The eyebrows lowered, and a tiny line appeared between them. Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.
Seizing my advantage while he was confused and silent, I pressed on. “I might be different to look at now, but I’m still a human, and those are my people wandering through the rifts. If we’re going to do this, it’s not just for this world. It’s for mine, too. We have to protect them somehow. Apart from Maelgwyn, there are vampires and berghests and giant spiders, and god knows what else. I’ve nearly died a hundred times myself since I came here, and any humans who make it through don’t stand a chance. Something needs to be done.”
Anwir sighed. “I agree, and once Maelgwyn is defeated, I will make it my first priority—”
“No. Now.”
He straightened, blinking at the audacity that I should make demands of him, a prince . Well, if he wanted me to be a queen, he would have to treat me as one .
“Aliza, I understand your frustration, but if Maelgwyn isn’t defeated with all haste, well… you heard Idris with your own ears. All will suffer the consequences, humans included.”
I didn’t doubt him, but the fact remained that I had given everything, even my own life, to this fight that had nothing to do with me, and it wasn't enough. These people always wanted more, and more. It was time I made some demands of my own.
“I’m not asking. I’ve agreed to help you, this is my only condition. Close the rifts, or guard them, or even send out search parties to find the humans before Maelgwyn does. There can’t be that many, but what if it’s a kid who comes through next time? You know well enough that Maelgwyn isn’t the type to spare a child. We have to do something .”
Anwir paled, his eyes widening, and for a second, I felt guilty. He’d lost his nephew the day Idris’ son had been murdered. I didn’t know what relationship Anwir and Taryn had once shared, but I’d never met the boy, and the knowledge of his untimely death was enough to bring tears to my eyes. What must it do to the family who had undoubtedly loved him? But I couldn’t waste time on guilt, not when lives were at stake.
“Very well,” Anwir conceded in clipped tones, and my heart leapt. “I will speak to Sage about sparing some witches to watch the gates for now, until I can assemble forces of my own. Does that appease you, my queen?”
I couldn’t lie, the title was something I could get used to, though hearing it on Anwir’s lips was less appealing, and as for getting my own way? I’d never been denied anything by my parents, but I’d never asked, either. I’d always been too concerned with what I could do for others to stop and think too long about what I wanted. My demand might be for the good of others, but there was a little part of me that purred at finally advocating for myself. I wanted to help those people. A few weeks ago, I would have allowed Anwir to talk me out of it, to set aside my convictions in the face of the greater good, but now?
Fighting down a self-satisfied smirk, I selected another cake and stuffed it into my mouth. I could get used to having a backbone, as well as a crown.
“The gods are real, then?”
Pansy’s horrified whisper sent fear sliding over my bones in a way my retelling of my late-night meeting with the princes had not. Something in the white ringing her dark irises told me that I had yet to grasp the full extent of what, exactly, these creatures were capable of.
I’d come to her room, keen to stay out of the way while my tedious work of unpacking was mercilessly undone, and despite Sage’s insistence that this remained secret, I’d told Pansy everything. She could be trusted, and she had as much right to know as anyone else. Her mother had died in our attempts to break the curse. Pansy deserved the truth, however horrible.
“That’s what I thought too. There are gods in my world, and a lot of people believe and worship, but plenty, me included, think it’s a load of nonsense.”
If anything, Pansy’s face only grew greener. “Why, in the name of the mother, would anyone worship a god? ”
Good question. “Our gods aren’t like yours. They don’t… kill people. They’re just stories.”
Stories that threatened eternal torture and damnation if you didn’t follow the rules, plagues and pestilence if you didn’t toe the line. Maybe our ‘gods’ weren’t so different after all.
“I can’t believe this,” Pansy muttered, blindly extracting another cookie from the parcel I’d brought.
The kitchen witches had all but bowed and scraped when I made my way down there in search of snacks. Idris’ intel was strictly need-to-know, but mobilising the coven in a matter of hours had raised suspicions that something was amiss, and it coincided with the Human Queen’s return. I’d found the cavernous space humming with urgent activity. The surfaces had been littered with baskets and parcels, no doubt crammed with food for the coven’s journey to Tir o Gaeaf. In truth, I’d felt more than a little guilty and entitled at my interruption—clearly, they had bigger things to worry about than arming me with sweet treats—but once the head cook had spotted me, she’d refused to let me leave without the cookies.
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” I reiterated for what might have been the hundredth time since I’d arrived in Pansy’s room.
In sharp contrast to my visit the previous day, the little room was once more pristine. A single chest stood in the middle of the otherwise clear floor, the linens had been stripped, and all of Pansy’s trinkets had disappeared.
The witch and I sat on the bare bed, our batch of cookies laid on a square of linen between us.
“My lips are sealed, and who would believe me anyway? This is bad, Aliza. Bad . ”
“Apparently so. I’m teleporting to Tir o Gaeaf in less than an hour.” I gave a humourless laugh, slumping against the wall. “It’s hard to believe I only got back yesterday. I’m exhausted.”
I’d barely slept the night Idris had brought us back to Neath, and all I’d managed since then was this morning’s nap. These weren’t the sleepless nights I had in mind when I thought of gorgeous males.
“Are you afraid?”
I hesitated. Nobody had thought to ask me that yet. “I guess I am, but I haven’t had time to really feel it yet. It helps that I don’t really know much about what I’m up against.”
“It’s a pity you’re leaving so soon. I’m certain there would be something in the library about gods. We have a lot of old books down there.”
I gave a half-hearted shrug. “If I’m seized by the urge to give myself nightmares, I can always have a look in Tir o Gaeaf. They must have something too.”
“I imagine so.” Pansy chewed her already chapped lip. If we had time, I might have suggested a mini spa day in my room to get her back on form. It wouldn’t bring her mother back, but it might have helped her feel more like herself again.
“Does this mean you and Idris can’t… well, be together?”
There were some parts of last night that hadn’t made it into my tale. “I already told you, there is no me and Idris.”
Even if he’d expertly strummed me to orgasm just a few hours ago. Until things were clearer between us, I would keep it to myself. Besides, that glowing secret was a charm against all the darkness engulfing me. Something warm and lovely to cling to .
One look at Pansy’s face told me she didn’t believe a word, but she didn’t push the matter. With a sigh, she slithered from the bed and crossed to her chest of drawers, opening the top one.
“I have something for you, but it doesn’t sound like you’re going to need it.” She turned, proffering a round bottle with a narrow neck, stoppered with a cork. A glittering but colourless liquid sloshed within.
I took the bottle. The curved glass filled my hand in an oddly satisfying way. “What’s this? Vodka?”
“Vod–what? It’s a tincture I made for you.”
“What does it–oh.” At Pansy’s pointed look, my ears flushed. “I already told you, there’s nothing going on with Idris.”
The witch plopped down on the bed, bouncing the mattress. The cookies shifted precariously close to her bottom. “Well, not anymore, but you may as well have it, just in case. Fae fertility is quite poor anyway, but a spoonful a day won't hurt if you ever… you know.”
“Thanks.” I clutched the bottle, my knuckles growing white. The gift was mortifying but thoughtful, and with any luck, it might come in handy, however much I denied it to Pansy. Vodka to drown my problems might have been just as useful, though.
Pansy bit into her cookie with surprising savagery. I kept my silence while she chewed, my mind elsewhere.
“I wish my mother was here,” Pansy said at last, her voice small and childlike. “She’d know what to do.”
My heart squeezed tight. “I wish she was, too.”
The witch lifted her dark eyes to me. A silver line of unshed tears quivered there. “I never thanked you for trying to help her.” She took a shuddering breath. “And I’m sorry for shouting at you. ”
My own eyes flooded, and I fumbled the cookies aside, shuffling closer, and enveloped Pansy in a one-armed hug. “You don’t need to say those things. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
The little witch clung to me, but she didn’t break down into sobs. “I know you wanted to go home,” she whispered, “but I’m glad I still get to have you as my friend.”
God, she was killing me. I squeezed tighter. “Me too.”
When we broke apart, both our cheeks were wet. Pansy smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, but it’s been one of those days.”
Hadn’t it just? I swiped the sleeve of my lilac and white tie-dye sweater over my cheeks. “Idris kissed me last night.”
“What?” Just like that, Pansy’s face transformed. Delight danced in her wet eyes. “Aliza! You’re going to need that tincture, after all. Oh my, tell me everything!”
Friends or not, I didn’t tell her everything , but I gave her enough detail that by the time I’d finished, the sadness had been driven back by scandalised delight.
“I knew it,” she insisted triumphantly. “I knew he had feelings for you.”
“Yeah, well, it’s early days. Besides, now that I’m supposed to be madly in love with Anwir, I don’t know when anything else could happen. Speaking of which, I should go.” I hopped off the bed, scooping up my baby pink faux fur coat from where I’d hung it over the back of a spindly chair. “We’ll be teleporting soon. I’ll see you in a week or so.”
The coven was travelling by carriage first thing in the morning. I didn’t see why I had to teleport when there were other, less brutal options available, but Anwir was in a rush, and apparently, my presence was required in Tir o Gaeaf with all haste.
Pansy followed me to the door, clutching the cookie bag. “Do you want another, for the journey?”
I grinned. “Better not. The less I have to vomit up, the better. You have them.”
Pansy returned my smile. “Safe travels then. And I want to know any updates as soon as I arrive.” The determined glint in her eyes told me she wasn’t talking about the gods.
“I’ve told you, there’s probably not going—”
She wrapped me in a surprisingly crushing hug, cutting off my protests. “Stop talking, Aliza. Just stop.”
My grin widened. “See you soon, Pansy.”
She ushered me through the door. “Not soon enough. Bye!”
With one last wave, I set off along the corridor, aiming for the narrow staircase that would lead me up through the castle to Granny’s receiving chamber.
Anwir was waiting for me, but more importantly, so was Idris.