Chapter 44 Pinky Promise
PINKY PROMISE
ALICE
Ijolt awake at the feel of metal on my jugular. It’s a disarming, disorienting sensation. Violent, as it’s meant to be, and utterly blood chilling. I have just enough sense to not jerk against it when my eyes open, vision blocked by a sneering face framed in blood-red hair.
“Ah-uh,” Maven tuts, looming above me. “Don’t make a fuss if you want that pretty little neck to stay that way. I don’t think the rabbit in the shower upstairs would enjoy seeing it all cut up.”
I don’t move—don’t breathe, not until the blade eases from my skin. I check my periphery, noting I’m still on the couch where I fell asleep for an afternoon nap. At least I’m in Meadowbrook and hadn’t accidentally fallen into Arcadia.
Maven looks around the room, curious, but mostly calculating.
“I haven’t been in this realm since I was a child,” she says, lips curling into a sneer. “It’s so dull.” She lifts her knee from the couch and holds out her hand. “Come on. We’re having tea.”
“What?” I croak.
“We’re having tea,” Maven repeats, snapping her fingers. “Let’s get a move on. We don’t have all day, and we need to have a chat.”
Maven takes me back to Arcadia. We walk through the portal in the park, beyond the red oak and into the Meadow. The place that started it all.
This time, I hear the flowers chattering.
The queen’s back.
Shhhh. She might hear us.
Oh, she’s brought Alice.
I can’t believe the girl’s still alive.
Me too.
Me three.
Maven cuts a withering glare across the field, squinting, as if she can pick out which blooms are the ones gossiping. The voices hush, and Maven adopts a small, lopsided smirk.
There’s a table in the center of the field, set with all the fixings.
A red organza runner snakes across the cherrywood and gold candlesticks flicker with dainty flames.
Trays of sweets fill the space between white and red rose-patterned teacups.
A large teapot steams at the head of the table, where Maven goes to sit.
I pause, taking in the armored guards that line the edge of the Meadow, stationed on either side of the oak tree.
“How did you find me?” I ask, finally grasping my courage.
“Ori did a good job of burning your scents from the trail—if it were anyone else we wouldn’t have found the portal—but Enzo’s a remarkable tracker.
” She takes her seat. “And you must have made the Woods mad. They practically let us waltz right over here—and after how many years of hiding the Meadow from us?” She snorts.
A beastly shadow passes over us, and both our heads tilt to the sky. “Ah, there he is.”
Enzo’s red dragon soars into the Meadow, shifting before he lands. His knees bend deep to break the fall, his hand splaying into the grass in front of him.
“Sit, Alice, I don’t want to kill you,” Maven says, nodding to the seat to her left. “I mean, I used to. It would make all this easier. But I’m petty, and I have a better use for you now.”
“And what is that?” I ask, pulling out my chair.
“Torture.”
The blood rushes from my face as my ass hits the cushioned seat; Maven rolls her eyes.
“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m not torturing you. Your Heir however…” she says, bobbing her head back and forth as if the decision is up in the air. She pops a tart in her mouth. “I have a few ideas.” She points to the steaming pot, glancing at the butler. “Is this done steeping?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Excellent,” Maven says, pouring herself a cup, then Enzo, who’s taken his seat to her right.
Then she serves me and sets the pot down on its trivet.
The liquid has a pleasant enough smell and a rich maroon tint.
“Now, this is what’s going to happen. Orazio and his two lemmings are going to run through that portal, searching for you.
When they do so, you’re going to tell them to sit.
They will listen. Then, you will tell them to drink this tea.
They will do so. Then, you’re going to walk through that portal and never come back.
And then we’re going to burn down the tree to ensure you can’t. ”
I glance at Enzo, whose long black waves hang around his face like a curtain. He stares at his cup of tea. Untouched.
“If this is about the tourney,” I start, swallowing around the lump in my throat. “We’re not participating.”
“Oh?”
“No. Ori said he doesn’t want to.” I wasn’t shocked when Jessa told me that, Ori had made his priorities clear from the beginning of summer, though I was surprised that Jessa and Harley didn’t argue.
Despite our altercation, I would have participated.
If only to wipe the satisfied smirk off Maven’s face.
I’m not the same timid girl I was when I was a child.
“I don’t believe you,” Maven says, simply. “And what he does or doesn’t want doesn’t matter.” Maven takes a sip of her tea, smacking the flavor between her lips. “Drink, Alice.”
“Do it,” Enzo urges on a whisper, though he looks pained doing so. Maven pets his head at his paltry support, nails raking through the strands with rough affection.
I lift the teacup to my lips and sip; warmth sluices down my throat, sweet but with a sour aftertaste. “What if I don’t do what you want me to when they get here?”
“Then they die.”
I shake my head. “They’re better fighters than me.”
“They won’t fight, because you just drank poison.
And I’m the only one with the antidote,” Maven says, tugging a chain from her neck.
A small bottle dangles on the end. “Don’t worry, it’s slow acting.
Once you do as I ask, you’ll get this bottle.
And once you’re through the portal, the others will get theirs.
Then we’ll all live happily ever after. Jessa and Harley can go do whatever the fuck they want to in the villages, as long as they behave.
And Orazio can accept his rightful place in this kingdom. ”
“Which is…”
“As a subordinate.” Her face is impassive. Unmoving. Cold.
My gaze slides across the table, stopping at the teacup Maven’s nails tap against. She’s practically drained the tea she poured for herself…
“You poisoned yourself?” I ask.
“Of course. I have to commit to the deception, don’t I?” Maven laughs. “Though I am partial to the taste of bitterberry leaves. They’re quite unique, aren’t they?”
I blink at her with disbelief. “What is wrong with you?”
“You ask a godawful amount of questions,” Maven drawls.
“And none of them are the right ones.” She busies herself with picking through the petit fours.
One bright pink macaron piques her interest, and she pops it in her mouth.
“Nothing is wrong with me, Alice. I simply am what I want to be. And that makes me correct. If you don’t like the answer, go take a different test.”
Maven pulls my phone out from her pocket.
“Gods, they are insufferably clingy,” Maven mutters, flashing the screen at me to unlock it and poking through my messages.
“How do you deal with three? One is more than enough.” She clicks her tongue.
“Ah, they should be here momentarily.” Maven sticks out her arm, pinky finger sticking out from her closed fist. “Let’s get on with it. Pinky promise you’ll do what I want.”
I stare at the offending appendage.
“A pinky promise,” I deadpan.
“It’s the strongest of promises between friends. Arcadia’s magic loves them, makes them binding.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek.
If I didn’t do this, the bitch will kill me. And then she’ll kill the others too.
If I did, I would break their hearts. But at least they’d live.
Maven quirks a brow, impatient, and I know I have to decide quickly.
My throat tightens.
At least if I followed her plans, I could say goodbye…
“Tik-tok,” Maven tuts.
“Fine. If that’s what it will take.” I link my pinky with hers. I meet Maven’s dark eyes with a challenge. “You first.”
A slow, evil smile grows on her cheeks. “I promise not to kill them.”
“And?”
She clicks her tongue. “And I promise to give you all the antidote as long as your promises are fulfilled.”
I expel a breath of relief. “Then I promise to tell them to drink.”
“And?” Maven drawls.
“I promise to leave and never come back…” I swallow around the lump in my throat. “I promise to never come back to this place.”
Magic shocks our pinkies; I jerk my hand from hers and sit on it, as if tucking it out of sight can hide the devastation the promise causes me.
This isn’t a choice—it’s a forced end.
A commotion at the red oak pulls our attention.
Ori storms through the portal first, followed by Jessa and Harley. They’re immediately swarmed by guards.
Harley evades more than fights back but is eventually tackled to the grass by one of the more agile assailants. Jessa puts up a good effort, falling a slew of the guards with her swordsmanship, but she’s at a number disadvantage, and ends up being restrained.
Then, there’s Ori.
He’s a monster, barreling through the forces that flock to him in droves. He bats them aside, as if they weigh nothing. Magic sparks over his skin with his impending shift and Enzo stands abruptly, his own magic doing the same.
Maven stands with him, pulling a sword from beside her chair and pointing it at my neck.
“Do not shift or she dies!” Maven calls out, her voice somehow cutting through the commotion. She waves a lazy hand at Enzo. “Stand down, darling. I’ve got this handled.”
Enzo stiffens, then sits, obediently resuming his stare-off with his untouched tea.
Ori has stiffened in a similar fashion, entire body rigid as his gaze roves over me. I glance away, unable to face the righteous passion carved into the line of his jaw.
I don’t know what Maven texted to get them here. But I can’t imagine it was good.
“What’s going on?” Ori demands as the guards shove them forward.
“We’re having a tea party,” Maven chirps. She motions for the three of them to join us at the table as her butler starts filling their cups with tea. “Take a seat. I have plenty of snacks to go around.”
“Alice…” Harley murmurs.