Chapter 5
They said the Mist Sorcerer lived among the eternal clouds, where shadows had taken form and curses found refuge. No one knew if he was a friend to darkness or simply its jailer.
ARAWN
“Lord Arawn!”
I grimaced. How many times had I ordered Yeun never to call me that? I loathed my name. My Lord. Master of All Magic. Your Highness. Those were titles I could tolerate.
To make matters worse, Yeun’s flame flickered between a sickly violet and a muddy brown as he darted frantically between the shelves of my private library. A low rumble rolled through the manor’s pipes, from the rooftop to the cellar, mirroring the clench of my jaw.
All I wanted was a little peace, sprawled on my couch, counting the cobwebs clinging to the ceiling. But, as always, Yeun had the talent of choosing the perfect moment to disturb me.
With a snap of my fingers, I slid an entire bookshelf across the floor, a wall of old grimoires forming an improvised barricade.
I had trained myself to ignore this insufferable (and very much unwanted) butler, yet Yeun’s relentless devotion to my mental state was a plague I could never quite rid myself of.
The will-o’-the-wisp popped into view before me, quick as a newborn spark, though its days were numbered. “There you are! Sometimes I swear you avoid me on purpose.”
“Yet you always manage to find me.”
My gaze met Yeun’s, his flame shrinking. Will-o’-the-wisps descended from fairies—and fairies, unfortunately for me, were immune to magic.
“What is it this time?”
Yeun quivered in place, to the point of letting slip tiny flames, like beads of sweat. “The confectioner, my lord… She… she’s here!”
“Here?” I repeated, rearranging with idle gestures the books I had already read a thousand times over. “Impossible.”
No human could have crossed my magical barrier. Otherwise, I would have felt it.
“Fairies don’t lie!” Yeun protested, his flame crackling with indignation. “Your wards detect enemies. Maybe you just don’t see her as one, or—”
“Tell her to leave,” I cut in. “We have no place for her.”
I had far more important things to do, like finding a better hiding spot to escape my butler.
“The tower is empty, my lord! Besides, you can conjure rooms at will and shape the castle however you please!”
Yeun waved his flames in protest, but I was already tuning him out.
This was all his fault, after all. If he hadn’t interfered with that cursed job offer, none of this would have happened.
First, I had never spoken like that. Second, I despised humans.
So weak. Fragile. And this one in particular…
I certainly had no intention of making a good impression.
“She’s… cursed.” Yeun snapped me from my thoughts.
In a single breath, every candle in the room snuffed out. All except Yeun’s flame, which burned brighter in the dark.
“She’s surrounded by your Spirits. You have to do something!”
I frowned. Cursed.
“Then she’s already lost and useless,” I growled. “Humans are always in such a hurry to throw away their humanity.”
And perhaps then my magical barrier would finally recognize her as the intruder she was.
“You’re the one who placed a protection spell on her shop! That’s why she’s here!”
My jaw tightened. I had brought her to me. Worse, I had practically invited her into the realm I had so carefully made sure no one dared to approach.
Slowly, I stepped toward the windowless balcony (I considered windows unnecessary).
“You’re not going to kill her, are you?” Yeun blurted, trying to block me with his light. “Don’t be so drastic! She might be the one you’ve been looking for!”
With a casual flick, I sent him spinning backward, vanishing into the manor’s depths.
“You were human once too!” his voice echoed as he receded.
There was little human left in me, save for the struggle to keep my appearance. I perched on the narrow railing of the balcony. The clouds, dark and heavy with fog, hid the ground below. The manor’s gray, austere towers groaned under the wind whipping against my face.
But it was the scent that froze me in place. Honey, laced with the sweetness of golden apples, and perhaps, the airy lightness of spun sugar.
From my back, long bone antlers burst forth.
My coat draped across my shoulders unfurled into wings of black ink and silver mist, slicing through the air as I dove from the balcony.
My veins blackened. Thorn-spikes pierced through my skin.
The wind screamed in my ears. The ground shook when I landed, dust curling around me.
A tendril of smoke escaped my mouth. The spikes and antler bones sank back into my flesh. My coat’s sleeves settled against my arms. I straightened, and that was when I saw her.
Lying in the middle of the tall grass and wild violet flowers, the confectioner looked like a dream in tatters. Her pink hair tangled with the petals, and her name—Lempicka—was embroidered on her apron.
I had never seen a curse so… radiant.
Her entire body was a prison of sucre d'or, glittering even in the fog. She looked like a rose of ice, with her tears frozen beneath her lashes. I swallowed, my gaze lingering on her longer than I should have. Even the bioluminescent fireflies and the black lake’s lilies seemed dull beside her.
I had almost forgotten about my faceless wandering shadows, my Spirits, their shapes dark and half translucent, gathered around her.
“You have nothing better to do?” I said, folding my arms. “Like scaring those who dare cross our forest.”
They didn’t listen, of course. Why would they flee when she offered more than my wrath? They were starving. The boldest of them crawled toward her, reaching out as if to touch but never quite daring. The smallest buzzed around her, like a swarm of hungry flies.
I couldn’t fault them. After all, I had noticed myself that she smelled… appetizing.
A rustle in the bushes drew my attention. Three shapes crouched beneath the leaves, trembling in the shadows.
“And you came with her,” I murmured, sensing the presence of the two Cursed hidden away, their yellow eyes glowing beside the black lamb that accompanied them.
The Cursed and the Spirits were of different natures. The former had once been alive, transformed by magic and curses. The latter had never known life—magical entities without magic, neither truly living nor entirely dead. They belonged to a realm apart.
I stepped forward, my boots sinking into the damp earth.
Letting my Spirits devour her would have been the kinder end.
After all, confectioners were merely tools, replaceable and necessary for our survival.
Yet, for a reason that irritated me as much as her untimely presence, I found myself not wanting that to happen.
“Have you changed your mind? About her… elimination?”
“You speak as if killing her were such a terrible idea,” I replied, a faint smile on my lips. “But if it matters to you that much, you can always do it yourself.”
Yeun faltered, taking on the most pitiful shade of brown. “We really will have to work on your sense of humor.”
Another step. A sharp crack under my boot. I looked down at a splinter of broken pink wood. Like a trail of crumbs leading to my manor, fragments of the confectioner’s shop lay scattered here, abandoned. Magic always left traces.
I bent down and picked up a parchment, dust clinging to it—the magical signature of the one who called herself the Wish Witch.
“Zelda.”
I knew the true nature of her contracts: a wish for a sacrifice. And always, a price heavier than promised. No one walked away happy from her pacts, only shackled. I unfolded the parchment: an invitation, penned in goose quill.
Dear Arawn, you must have received my carrier pigeon, or should I say my poisoned apple delivery.
In any case, I am hosting a ball on the first day of winter, for the harvest. It is time to bury the hatchet and for you to come to your senses.
I alone know who you truly are and possess what you most desire.
Signed, your dearest Zelda.
My fingers tightened. I crumpled the letter and tossed it into the gaping maw of a Spirit. It choked immediately and collapsed in the grass with dramatic flair.
“You’re going to ignore her again?”
I could no longer. Not after she had sent her army to ensnare me. My gaze slid back to the confectioner. “Humans are weak. She will never have the strength to be of any use to me.”
“It’s not as if you have a choice. Zelda has recruited almost every confectioner,” Yeun fretted, hovering near the girl. “No one wants to work for you. Those who tried are—”
“Dead. Yes, I noticed,” I snapped. “Incompetents with weak hearts. And this one is not ready.”
Confectioners were meant to serve us. But finding one—one who truly fit—was near impossible. You didn’t simply stumble upon a soulmate by chance. And because a magic too powerful could not exist without balance, without them, our power collapsed. A thankless task yet an essential one.
And I needed a confectioner.
One strong enough to withstand my magic.
I despised the thought of depending on someone. Yet my steps carried me toward her. The Spirits drew back at my approach.
“Leave her,” I commanded. “She is not yours.”
They withdrew at once, rolling across the ground before dissolving into the mist of the lake, their red eyes the last thing visible in the distance. They clung to me like a plague, and for reasons unknown, they obeyed my orders.
“Do you know this curse?” Yeun asked, floating above her, his butterfly eyes wide. “It almost looks like a blessing.”
I knelt beside her, leaning over her crystallized form. “One thing is certain: it is not death she should fear.”
Her skin was like spun sugar crystal. I removed my glove, bringing my hand close without touching. Already, I could feel the cold radiating from her. Yet around her heart, a warmth lingered. Fragile but tenacious.
The judgment was merciless.
“Her curse will eat her from the inside. She has until the first day of winter, when the golden apples are at their peak.”
Yeun swallowed, turning a queasy shade.
“Those are only my suppositions, of course. I could be wrong.”
“Not in recent years,” he replied. “Poor child.”
I breathed in. The cold of my domain—though I no longer felt it—had frozen her entirely. Or so I supposed, watching the patch of her skin where Yeun’s warmth managed to render her a little more human.
“Your heat might be enough to pull her from this state.”
After all, the warmth of a will-o’-the-wisp could melt even the toughest metals.
“Will it be enough?”
I focused my magic, brushing the crystallized surface of her skin with the tips of my claws. A glacial shock shot through my nerves as I ripped it out of myself. My magic refused to flow freely. I had to wrench it, force it, as one tames a wild beast. And the more I pushed it, the more it bit back.
A violet glow spread over her skin like a poisonous bloom.
My cursed touch seeped into the delicate frost of her being.
A cruel irony. The more I believed in the value of a life, the more I destroyed it.
But if I felt nothing, if I saw existence only as a hollow, meaningless beat, the curse lay dormant.
All I had to do was never be foolish enough to care about anything.
“If she survives, it will be by her own will. Not mine.” And in a low murmur, I commanded, “Take her.”