16. Awakened Heart
Nothing and no one.
Nothing and no one.
Crownless, hopeless, trapped. Of course he was no one. But that woman’s questions itched like a burr under his stockings. Is it true? Was he no one? Did he still matter if he was crownless, weak, and wounded?
This time, Zalina brought hot food onto the platform. Sweet and savory smells wafted down as he turned the wheel. His mouth watered, and he watched every movement as she ate. She offered him a drink of her steaming mug of mead. He struggled to remember why he should continue to say no.
But he did. Every time, he refused the food, refused the marriage proposal, and kept at his fruitless work. His hands were blistered, and he struggled to push the wheel. Zalina growled in frustration.
He was thrown to the floor of his cell. Killian lay there, staring, as unblinking as a dead person.
“Why are you here?” Meshougi asked again.
The coal of anger flared hot in his chest, and he pulled himself up to a kneeling position, wincing and shaking. “I’m here because Zalina brought me here.”
“And why are you here now?”
Killian knew she was crazy, but this was too much. He turned to her, glowering. “We are jailed. Trapped. I’m frozen and weakened. At this point, I should just marry her, and then maybe I could warm up for two minutes.”
“Are you trapped?”
Killian rose with a growl and stalked the seven steps to the cell door. “Look, lady, this is locked.” But as Killian grabbed the door to shake it, it swung open easily, catching on the stones below and slowing before it clattered into the other barred wall.
His mouth dropped.
“This door has been unlocked since the moment you woke up here. So, I ask again. Killian, why are you here?”
He gaped. The door was open. “I … I don’t know.”
“Who has trapped you here?”
“Zalina.”
Her wrinkles folded as she raised her brow. “Has she?”
Hadn’t she?
The old lady stood on bony feet and tottered toward him. “Listen,” she hissed as she grasped the bars and stuck her head through. “Listen, Killian.” And then she fell silent.
He frowned at her, waiting for whatever she was going to say next. But she stared, blinking slowly at him. He was about to huff off in frustration when he froze … and listened to …
Silence.
He turned to watch the water drip from the ceiling. He watched it hit the ground, splattering in tiny droplets. But there was no sound. He glanced at Meshougi who tapped her long fingernail on the bar, but there was no click or clang. Wind wafted down from the stairwell opening. He could feel it on his cheeks, but it had no whistle, nor did it cause the torches on the wall to waver, or the tattered banner to move, or the smell of rot to assault him.
He shook his head, disturbed by the twisting discordant feelings that something was terribly wrong. The sounds and feelings didn’t match what he saw. What he saw didn’t match what he sensed.
Meshougi was grinning wildly. “Ah. The prince now sees! One last time. Killian, who has trapped you here?”
Hesitantly, Killian tried a new answer. “Me?”
“Hah!” The lady clapped and spun in a dusty whirl. “Yes, my boy. Yes. You must wake up. You must save your princess. You must escape this castle.”
Killian’s heart sank, seized by a deep, aching terror. It was his fault yet again.
“Why are you assigning fault, young prince?” Meshougi shook her head. “There is no one to blame, and there is no value in assigning blame. See truth. Move forward. Take responsibility for the present. Rivers can’t run backward.”
He leaned his head against the bars. “What if I can’t do it? What if I can’t escape?” He inhaled slowly, the words of his father echoing in his mind. “My father said I always quit … and I do. What if I fail to save her?” He swallowed, his words catching on the painful lump that had formed in his throat. “What if she doesn’t want me and I can’t win her back? What if I can’t convince her of the truth?”
She frowned in confusion. “You continue by fighting even when it’s hard. You take difficult steps toward the next right thing even when your legs are shaking. You push through the fear, because you know what is right … because you know who you are.”
Meshougi smiled sadly. “Of course this is hard. Of course you’re going to fail. You’re going to get knocked down, pushed back, and fall again many times. But if you stay down, you stay down.” She leaned toward him again. “So you have to get up. Failure isn’t falling. Falling is a lesson. Failure is merely a teacher that helps you to do things differently next time. Mistakes are lessons, and life must move forward, or you will always be trapped. Either here in this trap that Zalina has set for you or in your own mind, crippled only by yourself.”
“I killed my mother. I failed my father and my nation. I continue to lose to Phin—”
“Your mother made her choice out of love to save you. It was her love that has sealed your throne from Zalina’s reaches.”
He turned wide eyes toward Meshougi. “How do you know about my mother?”
Meshougi’s eyes welled with tears before she cast her gaze to the ground. “I arrived a moment too late. The magician from Walworth underestimated Zalina’s cursed knife. I couldn’t save her in time.”
“Zalina … Zalina’s knife?”
“Her first attempts to take your throne were by breaking the betrothal and ending your life. It was a set up.”
Killian’s heart stuttered.
“Zalina cursed the princess at the beginning of her life—the day you met her. Zalina also scorched the earth this summer, hoping to make you desperate enough to marry her for her magic.” Meshougi shook her head. “But these things, while important, are not why we are trapped here. We are trapped here because you have been given a choice. You can continue to wallow here in failure and solitude. You’ll have no more responsibility and never can hurt anyone again while in this cage … that is, as long as you don’t marry Zalina. Or you can fight your way out of here, reclaim your kingdom, repent, and do all you can to restore your relationships. Ultimately, it’s up to you. You have to choose to continue to fight, Killian. No one else can save you but you.”
A spark ignited within him. His hands grasped at the bars as they faced each other, her scraggly head rising only to his chest. She smiled at him. With a nod, he made his choice. “I will try. And I won’t give up.”
“Trying is enough. If you’re ready, then wake up!” The old woman stood on tiptoes and reached a finger up to Killian’s forehead. “Wake up!”
His world tilted and warped unsteadily. Something within him fought against her, dark arms of the nightmare curse yanked on him, begging him to return. The entrapment had been miserable, but he knew what to expect and had somehow become comfortable in his discomfort—comfortable in filth, the lack of expectations, and misery.
Was this his future? To be comfortable in his own waste? His own weakness?
No.
He surged forward, like a man under water, shoved upward toward the air and toward the light.
His eyes popped open, and he flew off the straw bed. His chest heaved with massive breaths, and his skin prickled with sweat. The cell was the same, but his senses were flooded with new information. The water plopped as it splattered on the stone, followed by a faint echo. The wind made the flames along the stairs flicker with crackling and popping. The scent of bones, his bed, and his own skin were repugnant and overwhelming. He set his feet down on the ground and realized he had no sores. His calves were muscular, not skeletal. His palms hadn’t blistered. Reaching for his face, he felt some stubble, but no beard. Time had restarted in earnest. He’d lived a lifetime in his nightmare.
Meshougi giggled behind him, and he turned to find her crouched by the head of his bed, her index finger still pointed toward his pillow, where his head must have rested. “Good morning, dearest prince. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?”
“The fight of your life.”
Killian blinked, still reeling from everything he had experienced. “All of that was … it was a dream?”
“A suspended magicked state, yes. Zalina wanted you to submit to her without you wasting away into something ugly. She is vain and wanted your handsomeness for herself.” She shrugged. “All fairies know sleeping spells …”
“But it felt real. I felt pain. I—”
“Feelings are master liars when wounds are deep.”
Killian could only nod, too overwhelmed by the impossibility of what had just happened. He rubbed his face and stretched out his hands. “So shall we fight?”
Her toothless grin smothered her twinkling eyes. She stood and moved to the front of the cage. “Better get to it. Start failing. Fall down a few times. Just get back up.”
“You sound like Phin.”
“He sounds very wise.” She smiled. “But seriously, you’d better start. You broke the spell. She’s noticed you’re awake, and they’re coming. You are out of the eye, my prince. The storm is about to get a little gusty.”
Killian heard raised voices and a clatter of metal upstairs. “How am I supposed to fight without a sword?”
She shrugged. “Step one, my dear prince, is to open the door. Fighting is a problem for future Killian.”
Killian whirled to the door and jangled the lock that was actually locked in the real world. He searched the room, then dashed to the bone pile in the corner. He brushed aside the rotting fur, selecting a few likely contenders. He ran back to the door, his fingers slipping several times as he picked the lock. But with a glorious clank, the bolt shifted, and the door creaked open.
Stomping footsteps approached. He turned to help Meshougi escape from the adjacent cage, but she stood outside her door, her hands clasped before her.
“You got yourself free?”
She winked. “I was never locked in. I’ve been waiting for you. After the loss of your mother, I followed Zalina, waiting for your arrival—waiting to help. Crazy ladies are no threat to mastermind mistresses. I’ve been here for a very long time.” Her eyes brimmed with tears as a sudden wave of emotion flooded through them. “But now, let’s go.”
With a squawk and a screech, ten humanoid animals, corrupted and upright but smaller than the overly large fox, poured down the stairwell. Killian searched the room and grabbed a large femur bone. Dashing to the other side of the stair, he ripped off the tattered banner which unseated the metal rod at the top. Wielding the bone in his left hand and the rod in his right, he faced the horde of creatures who crouched in readiness.
“I believe in you, Killian.” Meshougi”s voice whispered in his ear, though she was several feet away. “Fight now. Fight for truth. Return with honor.”
He nodded. The truth. The truth would be his sword through the lies, and through his enemies. His time was now.
With that thought, he sprinted forward and whipped his metal rod across the nearest raised sword.