Chapter 15
T he bedroom door is ajar, and laughter spills out like water from an overfilled cup. Dae’s voice, intertwined with three others, sends a shiver down my spine. A prickle of tears wells in my eyes. Why does their joy make me feel so…lost?
Four distinct laughs, each a vibrant flower pushing through the cracked earth of my isolation. I am swallowed, tangled in the decaying undergrowth, while they bloom in the sunlit meadow above. I can almost taste the sweetness of their nectar and the vibrant colours of their petals. But my roots are sunk deep in the cold, damp soil, entwined with the skeletons of forgotten things. I am not meant for the meadow, for the warmth of shared sunlight. I am of the decay, the hidden things that thrive in darkness.
My fingers trace the grain of the wooden door. A high-pitched peal of laughter, Shiva’s, I realise, filters out above the rest. My foot twitches with the urge to kick, to shatter the barrier, to silence their joy. Why? I really don’t know.
I sink to the floor, the cold wood a stark contrast to the heat in my chest. Curling into a tight ball, I let the waves of laughter lull me to sleep.
Strong, warm arms circle my knees and neck, lifting me. I squirm, blinking sleep from my eyes as Dae carries me from the floor into the bedroom. It’s warm, the morning light a soft caress.
“Should we leave?” a voice whispers from the shadows.
Dae places me on the bed. “Elly?”
I don’t reply. It’s not my room. It can’t be my decision. But Dae tucks me in under his arm, a possessive gesture that sends a confusing mix of warmth and resentment through me. I’m caught between wanting to shove him away and burrow deeper into him. This unexpected welcome feels like a trap.
“Elly, meet Kaya. And Abnehor.”
My gaze darts around the room. The butterfly Jinn, Kaya, I presume, perches on one sofa, her wings shimmering with an iridescent glow. Abnehor and Shiva occupy another, their postures mirroring each other with unsettling synchronicity.
“I’ve been desperate to meet you for years,” Kaya chirps.
“Aren’t you two together or something?” I say.
Kaya laughs, a melodic sound that fills the room. “No, it’s just a performance. Dae and I grew up together, but I’m not titled. No royal blood in my veins. We’re just… rich. Mummy’s self-made, found a way to transport pixie dust across worlds without it spoiling. So, when I turned eighteen, consort became the easiest title to keep me here. Not that I want to be.”
“Where do you want to go?” I ask.
Kaya’s smile is wistful. “Callacombe.”
The name means nothing to me. “Is it nice there?”
“Incredible. But I won’t leave Dae alone with all this. So, I’m stuck here, just like him.”
Stuck? I hadn’t realised Dae felt trapped here.
“So,” a deep voice rumbles from across the room, “what do you want?”
I turn to face Abnehor. An instinctive dislike prickles my skin. Where Dae feels like a storm, chaotic and unpredictable, Abnehor is a still, dark pool. Calculated and precise. I don’t like it. It makes me feel exposed, as if he can see right through me. And perhaps he can. The thought of this Jinn, with his unsettling smell of power, capable of plucking my secrets from my mind, sends a shiver down my spine.
“I want to go home,” I say, my voice small. “And I want my mum to live.”
He shifts slightly, pulling Shiva’s leg onto his lap in a gesture that seems both casual and possessive. “From what I hear, wanting to go home, for you, is the same as wanting nothing. What if you didn’t have to die?”
I shrug, feigning indifference. “Ifs and buts. It’s probably not possible, so why bother thinking about it?” I’m not being entirely honest. The possibility of living has consumed my thoughts ever since I met the hag. But this world feels like a whirlwind of deceit, and I don’t trust anything, especially information filtered through Dae. There’s a trick here, I’m sure of it.
Abnehor laughs, a low rumble that vibrates through the room. “Why bother thinking about the alternative to dying? Why bother giving yourself a single reason to consider living? And I thought this one was morbid.” He squeezes Shiva’s leg, his fingers digging into her flesh.
“Go on,” Dae murmurs, stroking my hair from my face and pressing me harder against his side. “Think about it. Think about living. What would you do?”
And so I do. I allow myself to truly consider it. A smile tugs at my lips, and tears prick my eyes. “I guess… I guess I would go to uni and do art. And,” my smile widens, “I’d live with my mum. I’d smoke a cigarette, not to become a smoker, just to try it. And I’d have sex, with more than one person.” I throw Dae a look then and he laughs. “Oh, and I’d do coke?—’’
“As in cocaine?” Shiva interrupts, her laughter cutting through my reverie.
I grin. “Yeah, I saw it in this mafia film Dae and I used to watch together. With the three guys, the violent one and the snitch, you know what I mean, right? Where the helicopter’s following him?”
Shiva laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I love that film.” I don’t miss the spark in Abnehor’s eyes at her response. “That’s the only thing I miss from home. Films.”
Dae jerks his finger towards a cupboard in the corner. “There’s a laptop in there full of shows and films.”
“The one I gave you a couple of years ago?” I ask, surprised. He nods. “How do you power it? There’s no electricity here.” It was my old laptop, barely working even then. I’d assumed it would die the moment the battery ran out. But I’d loaded it with all the films Dae had loved when he used to sneak into my house when Mum was away for two years.
Dae jumps up, and my head falls to the mattress. I laugh, the sound shaky. He runs to the cupboard, pulling out the laptop and a strange contraption. He plugs one end into the laptop and holds the other end towards me. “Just needs a little magic.” He’s at the edge of the bed now, his knee pressing into the mattress, his eyes alight with an almost childlike excitement.
I frown. “Look,” he says, his voice taking on a persuasive tone, “you touch this part and send a jolt of life into it. You know how to do that, right?” He smirks. “Just a tiny little jolt of life. And then Shiva can watch her films.”
A jolt of life. Like the little jolts Dad sends that shock Mum. Like the ones that sometimes grow and really hurt her. Like the jolt I felt that night before the trees awoke when I was eight and poured blood all over my soul. Like the jolt I felt the day of the Incident. Like the jolts I try so desperately to control. I suck in a breath. “Can’t you do it?”
He cocks his head, his expression unreadable. “I want you to do it.”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.” I push the contraption away, fear gripping my heart.
“I don’t need to watch anything,” Shiva says, her eyes darting between us.
Dae raises a stern finger and shushes her. Abnehor lets out a low growl. “Sorry,” Dae mutters, but his eyes remain fixed on me, intense and expectant. “Just give it a try. If it overcomes you… well, is there anyone here whose life you really care about marking your soul with?”
I scoff. “Stop being silly.”
“I’m not. You want to escape anyway, killing me is a pretty easy way to do it. But I don’t think you will kill me, Elly. I think you’ll shoot a little zap of life into here and everything will be fine. Go on, humour me.” I stay silent, until he says, “I think those men you killed?—’’
“Dae,” I snap, my voice sharp, “stop it.”
He catches my hand and presses my finger to his lips. He drops a kiss to them before saying, “Those men you killed were monsters. The trees were saving you. That boyfriend was beating your mum, and from what I can tell, the looks they were giving you were truly something to be afraid of.”
I can’t bear to hear any more. I slam my palms over my ears, a desperate attempt to block out his words. But Dae’s fingers find my hands, and he pulls gently. I shake my head, tears welling in my eyes. He pulls again, and some traitorous part of me can’t resist the release he offers by opening this wound. It’s out now, the secret I’ve buried are out.
Exposed.
“I’ve killed lots of people, Elly,” Dae says, finally prying my fingers away. “So has Abnehor. It doesn’t mean we deserve to die. And we murder on purpose. You were just a kid. It was an accident. And they were all monsters.”
“Mum wasn’t a monster,” I whisper, my voice choked with tears. I close my eyes against the memory.
Red, raw bruises around my mother’s neck as she gasped for air.
“Elly, no! Why would you do that? It’s the only thing I have left from Gran!”
“Shut up.”
“What did you just say to me?”
“I told you to shut it.”
Mum stormed over, tears lining her red-rimmed eyes, grabbed me by the arm, turned me around, and smacked me. Hard.
Red, burning, hateful rage filled my soul. A spark, a jolt, something small and bright, left my fingers.
A tree moved.
Its branches bent.
Gasping. Gurgling.
Mum tried to speak, but she couldn’t. Not around the branch wrapped around her throat, lifting her off the ground.
She clawed at the tree, trying to create some space to breathe. Her eyes bulged. Her arms drooped.
She stopped fighting. Limp. Empty.
My heart slowed. The spark faded. I blinked, little red dots dispersing, leaving misery in their wake.
A blood-curdling scream tore its way out of my mouth.
The tree let go, and my mum’s body collapsed to the ground.
“I’m so sorry, Mummy,” I’d cried, shaking Mum’s limp body. “I will never talk to trees again. I promise, Mum. I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”
And later, at the hospital.
The doctor had said, “She’s woken up from her coma, but has sustained substantial brain damage.”
The attending doctor gazed up at Dad through furrowed eyebrows, his jaw set and lips pressed flat against each other, as if he suspected Aberith was the person to blame for his patient’s suffering.
“The brain can heal itself. But it will take time. You’ll need to be very patient over the next few years.”
The people at school were just told Mum went away on a long trip abroad and that Dad was looking after me. I guess occasional trips to visit, a cookbook, and a cupboard that seemed to replenish everything I took from it, counted as looking after.
Those were the years Dae practically moved in. We slept on the sofa every night and watched TV during the day, and he only left when I went to school.
“No,” he agrees, his voice soft, “but sweetheart, first of all, you didn’t kill her. A coma is horrific, and I’m so sorry the two of you went through that. But I’ve watched you through the trees since, and she doesn’t resent you. She doesn’t blame you. And love, I don’t blame her, but she was hitting you. Often and hard. The same way you’ve forgiven her so easily, she’s forgiven you.”
I shake my head, tears dripping down my cheeks. He brushes a tear away. I whimper. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not?—’’
“Yes,” he interrupts, “I know. But either way, it does matter. If you do die, I don’t want you walking to your death thinking you deserved it.”
It’s my turn to reach up and stroke the hair from his face. “There’s nothing that will stop me thinking that.”
He presses his face into my hand, nudging my fingertips with his nose. “We’ll see.”
Shiva stands abruptly. “I want to go to London. Today. I want to do coke and smoke a cigarette. And then we’ll pick up some milk and tea and come back, and Elysia can make that laptop work.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Kaya beats me to it. “You do not . You’re terrified of London.”
Shiva gives her a sharp look. “Yes, well, I’m going anyway. Abnehor will take me, right? And we’ll go further East. Or maybe South.” She holds her hand out to Abnehor.
He takes it, pulling her onto his lap. “Right.” He nuzzles his nose into her neck, and she giggles.
Glancing over at me, she says, “Come on, Elysia, don’t leave me hanging.”
Dae’s peering at me with an almost vulnerable hope shining in his eyes. I think it would break his heart if I say no. Besides, if we’re in London, if I can get away to pee, maybe I can escape. “What about these?” I tap the tip of one of Dae’s horns.
He bucks at my finger, drawing a tiny drop of blood. “Don’t worry about those. Piskie dust has more than one use.”
I take a deep breath. And then I dive in. “Okay.”
“Yessss!” Shiva exclaims, jumping up. “See you at the front door.” She runs out.
Dae laughs. “You won’t be seeing her at the door. I’m not trusting you to leave the normal way. Get ready, and I’ll knock you out. I’ll wake you up in London.”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know what to wear.”
Kaya stands and cocks her head towards the door. “Come on, you can pick something from my room.”