Chapter 15
“ITOLD YOU I’M fine,” Corin snapped.
“Sure, that’s why you’re still scowling.”
Elly had given up on her silent treatment, curiosity overtaking her instead. She wanted to know what Corin had seen in the ice caves. The snow had dissolved behind their footsteps after they left the caverns, and the scenery had shifted into a new season, a few months condensed to mere minutes. Icy rivers melted into liquid light as tulips sprouted along the edge. Color filled the land in the form of blooming flowers and lengthening grass. The cuts on Corin’s knuckles healed under the warmer atmosphere, as if she’d never smashed the ice at all.
She wanted to continue the land’s pattern of forgetfulness, and so she ignored Elly’s interrogations, instead rubbing her itching nose at the change in atmosphere. They followed Malicine through alpine meadows, mirroring the rows of caterpillars that crawled down the moss. With each step, buttercups sprung from soil, unfurling their petals to greet the spring air. Fuchsia colors sprouted from low rolling peaks of mountains, a sea of flowers and blossoms that burned Corin’s eyes from its brightness.
Still, Elly didn’t relent. “You’re hiding something.”
Corin’s skin prickled at the familiar words. The memory came back to her like a trickle of light intruding upon the dark veil she’d insisted on wrapping around her mind. The light grew wider, and she remembered it had been moonlight specifically, spilling through the open flap of a tent as a shadow stood before her. On the night Harlow had caught her rifling through their commune’s tents, Corin had tucked the satchel behind her back. Still, Harlow always had sharp eyes.
“You’re hiding something.”
Corin had reared back as Harlow charged forward. Her satchel spilled open in their scuffle. Cans of vegetables cracked on the floor, the sticky preservatives staining their shoes and crumpled bills she’d swiped from their friends’ coat pockets. Shame had flooded her cheeks, even though she’d already told Harlow she planned on leaving, that her years at the commune were only temporary until she found an actual home for Elly and her. She’d refused to tell anyone how she signed the lease, where the building was, and what she sacrificed to get it. She also couldn’t bear the humiliation of returning to the commune and asking them for supplies after she and Elly moved in and discovered their new home was nothing but a broken-down hovel with four walls.
Harlow had stared in silence at the pile of perishables Corin tried to steal. The look of disappointment had made Corin cringe. She was glad that she’d waited until Elly fell asleep in their new home before sneaking to the commune to swipe essentials. She wouldn’t have wanted Elly to witness this, or find out whose side her sister would have taken.
When Harlow spoke, her tone had been flat and even.
“I was wondering where you were at the last meeting, but now I understand. You were too busy stealing from friends who fed you instead of the people who took those things away from you.”
Anger had flared in the pit of Corin’s stomach, burning through her initial guilt. She’d stayed far away from the shops where Harlow and the others met to discuss protest efforts against the war. On nights the artisans gathered in hushed whispers, Corin would usher Elly back to the river, where they struggled to fall asleep on the hard ground of their tents. As her bones ached from rocks digging into her back, Corin would stare into the darkness with quiet fury, resenting Harlow for inviting danger to the group. There were no walls to hide behind, no space that was truly their own. Sooner or later, a soldier would catch on to their plan and follow a trail leading to where Corin and Elly slept, killing them both simply by association.
“We’re a gang of vagrants, not a resistance group,” Corin had replied. “Sorry for not wanting to risk my life for a pointless mission. You realize your plan won’t work, don’t you? People will call you violent extremists, and nothing will change. At best, a few soldiers die, while the rest will execute you. It won’t matter in the end.”
Harlow had shaken her head, dismissing Corin like she would a petulant child. To Corin, the reaction was worse than anger. It was pity.
“Keep choosing survival over all else,” Harlow had sneered, “and one day you’ll look around to find loneliness surrounding you like a moat.”
Countless vicious things had tugged at Corin’s tongue in response. She’d swallowed the words down and picked up her empty satchel to leave the tent. Only the guilt she’d tucked in the deep depths of her conscience had pulled her to stop beside Harlow. She hadn’t met the woman’s eyes, couldn’t bear to see what sort of expression Harlow wore as Corin spoke her final words to someone she once considered her friend.
“Don’t go to the tunnels tomorrow.” She’d tried to make it sound like a threat, not a desperate plea. “They’ll kill everyone.”
It had been their last exchange before the insurrection, one that Corin never took part in, yet she never felt the relief of evading death. Instead, she remembered leaving Harlow behind, her boots pounding against cobblestone, her breaths coming out as ragged gasps in the night air. Humiliation had made her heart hammer against her rib cage, as if the organ itself couldn’t handle being in her own wretched body.
That night, she’d run away and reached the other side of the river that took her father. Her knees had fallen on the grass. Tears had welled in her eyes at what she’d lost, another home she could never go back to.
A bee buzzed past her ear and broke her from her reverie. Corin blinked at the grass at her feet, where wildflowers sprouted from soil. The cold night of Gyldan melted into daylight from a dream. The raging river she once remembered had shrunk into a babbling brook, where crystal-clear waters only met sunlight and not death.
That’s right, she reminded herself. It doesn’t matter in the end.
The only thing that mattered was how Corin got to the end, whether her friends were there or not. She took a deep breath, letting new purpose take priority over distant regrets.
“Where’s the princess already?” she demanded. “I thought we were supposed to find her in Springland.”
Corin and Elly had been following Malicine’s path down the stream, and Corin was growing tired of wading through peonies and swatting away dragonflies. Malicine tossed a backward glance. “Hasty to see her, aren’t you?”
Corin grunted as she ducked past a bee. “I didn’t come here to smell flowers.”
“Maybe you should,” the demon replied dryly, “because your attitude stinks.”
Elly snickered. “Corin wouldn’t know whimsy if it hit her. She’s so grouchy that, I’ve seen her with more wrinkles on her forehead than without.”
“And if I mess up your face, you’ll look worse.” Corin lunged for Elly, who screamed and sprinted across the meadow.
The chase didn’t last long as Corin tackled her sister over a dense carpet of short grass. Elly’s body rumbled with laughter, a pleasant sound to Corin’s ears. She liked that conversation flowed easily between them again. Butterflies fluttered over the spikes of Elly’s hair, their wings like glowing clips on her scalp. Corin brushed them away and placed a gentle hand on her sister’s head. If she could make more good memories like these, perhaps she could forget the bad ones too.
Their attention shifted to a cherry blossom tree stretching over their bodies. Malicine had pulled one of the branches to an impossibly long length, pressing the wood on the ground like a set of stairs. “A better vantage point,” they said.
Corin gawked at the tiny width of the branch with uncertainty. As she followed Elly’s footsteps onto the branch, the tree’s arm grew as wide as its own trunk and lifted them up. Pink blossoms swarmed her vision as they ascended, the smells of lilac and magnolia wafting under her nose. Malicine caught a petal in their hand and blew it into the wind. The petal drifted forward and parted the sea of blossoms, allowing them to survey the rest of the land, its rolling hills and lush meadows filled with red poppies.
Malicine’s raven took flight and descended the hill to scout the area. He swooped near a massive willow tree, its draping branches nearly obscuring the garden path that wrapped behind the trunk. Corin squinted at rows of sunflowers that peeked behind a wide thatched roof. The flowers were abnormally large, swaying in the breeze as if they were waving at her.
“There she is.” Malicine pointed their staff to the branch, which stretched like a bridge toward the garden path. Giant mushrooms sprouted like cobblestones paving the road. Corin and Elly hopped over the mushroom caps, which bounced beneath their shoes and gave a spring to their step. The raven waited among the branches of the willow tree that blocked the view. Once they crossed past the trunk, a cottage emerged in full sight.
The walls were made of misshapen stone, which explained why the roof crouched in an awkward position. Windows opened from each side, their pointed arches wrapped in wild plants and greenery. A soil field stretched behind the house, where sunflowers grew as tall as the roof. The place basked in sunlight, so that the moment their feet touched grass, warmth filled their bodies instantly.
Despite the extravagance of the surrounding land, the cottage was smaller than Corin expected. On the porch sat a girl with chestnut hair and a satin dress embroidered with spring flowers. Shrubs grew from her sleeves, her shoulder bows and cape made of butterflies, which fluttered over tulle. Daffodils wrapped around her head like a crown, and daisy petals pressed onto her eyelids and cheeks.
Corin recognized the familiar patterns on the girl’s face, the way they formed teardrops just like the pearls did. The stranger was the same person Corin had seen in Winterland. But gone was the silver hair and snowdrop flowers, the pale lace dress and snowflake lashes, the bow and arrow pointed straight to Corin’s heart to kill her. This version took a different appearance. A beautiful disguise that was still a mystery.
The girl sat at a round table filled with bowls of fresh grapes and wooden boards with slices of cheese that fanned out like petals. Slices of pie oozed lemon meringue across porcelain. Tines of tiny forks were stained in orange and cream, like paint dripping from a brush.
“You’re late, Mal.” Her voice was light and airy like a hummingbird. She set her teacup down and smoothed the linens on the table. Her fingers were long, slender. Their length matched the vines painted across the floral-patterned fabric.
“It would’ve been nice for you to show up to my tea party on time. Isn’t that right, Penny?”
Across the table, a caramel-colored rabbit sat on a bentwood chair, holding a matching teacup between her paws. She wore a ruffle dress and oversized hat stacked with peacock feathers. Next to her, a gray cat continued pawing at the feathers before he sneezed on his green suit. The rabbit’s nose twitched in contempt.
“Good afternoon, poorly dressed guests! I’m Penny, and this is Dime,” said the rabbit. “We are Briar Rose’s best friends.”
“How rude. I thought I was her best friend,” Malicine replied. “After all, I’ve known her since she was a baby.”
“You mean you cursed me when I was a baby,” the girl said.
Dime licked his nether regions before looking up. “Now that is rude.”
“We had a rough start.” Malicine shrugged. “Put some damn pants on, Dime.”
The cat retorted by pawing a teacup off the table and watching it shatter.
Corin gawked at the entire scene. The group talked rapidly, as if acquainted from years of tea parties, while she tried to make sense of the scraps of information she had. They called the girl Briar Rose, though Corin could have sworn her name was supposed to be Amelia. Malicine claimed to be her best friend, which was the strangest thing that had come out of the demon’s mouth the entire time Corin had been here. There was also the fact that they stood in front of talking animals who wore petticoats, but that would need to be addressed later.
Malicine’s raven landed on top of a plate and pecked at a biscuit, scattering breadcrumbs across the linen. The princess looked unfazed as she plucked a lace fan from her sleeve and fluttered cool air to her face.
“What about you?” she asked Malicine. “Are you going to introduce me to your new friends, too?”
“They’re hardly friends,” Malicine scoffed.
“Ah, yes. I forget how long it takes for you to warm up to people.”
A bright shade of pink bloomed on Elly’s cheeks. She wiped her palms against her trousers and stepped forward to greet the princess from the fairy tale, finally come to life.
“My name is Elly. I . . . I’ve been wanting to meet you for a long time.”
The princess offered a gentle smile, but her lips pressed tight, as if holding a secret. “It’s nice to meet you, Elly. You can call me Briar.”
Elly paused before, in a sudden burst, she jumped to embrace the princess. The butterflies in Briar’s cape spilled over to Elly’s arms as she dug her face into the princess’s shoulder.
“You’re real,” Elly whispered. “I always believed.”
Briar ducked her head in the crook of Elly’s neck, pressing the child closer so that their touch of skin would solidify the truth. The smell of strawberries and honeysuckle lingered in the air, so sweet that Corin could hear her sister inhale deeply and release a sigh of relief against the princess. But while Elly’s eyes were closed, Corin watched the golden dust gleam over Briar’s shoulders, how it dimmed into ordinary freckles when the sun hit a certain angle of her carefully crafted image.
“Thank you. But you must keep me a secret.” Briar pressed a finger to her lips. “This place is special because not many people know of it.”
“Unfortunately, that’s no longer true,” Malicine said. “These two stumbled upon this place by accident, but the portal was no coincidence. Your godmothers discovered a way here. And they’ve given Ezran immortality for his precious mission.”
Briar’s lips parted to break the perfect heart shape of her mouth. She let go a shaky breath, so quiet it could have been missed if Corin hadn’t been watching her closely. Wind rustled through the willow tree like whispers. For a fraction of a second, Corin thought she saw the facade fade.
“Is he here?” Briar asked.
“No.” Malicine lowered their voice. “But he’s been looking for you.”
The air grew tense with nothing but the sound of bees to fill the silence. Even Penny and Dime exchanged skeptical glances with each other across the table. Corin wondered how much they knew about the prince, his steel eyes that cut through anyone who tried to disturb the princess. If Briar was as light as air, Ezran was as wild as a flame, real and solid. His passion could swallow her up.
“If they could cross whenever they wanted, they would have by now,” Malicine continued. “The fact that they haven’t means there’s something blocking them from opening another portal.”
Briar refilled her teacup. The lid rattled over the porcelain pot as her hands trembled slightly. Corin followed her gaze to the tiny white flowers swirling at the bottom of the cup. The fragrance was strong enough for the breeze to carry over, wafting under their noses, tingling her lips. A bittersweet smell.
“He’s not giving up,” Briar said. “He never will. Not for the one he loves.”
“Yes, his devotion is ever so charming,” Malicine replied dryly. “But Corin came from Gyldan as well. Apparently, Ezran made a promise to protect a treasure of yours. Does that sound right?”
Briar drank her tea for a long moment before lifting her lips from the cup. Quietly, she answered, “Yes, that’s right.”
“We’ll divert him off our path, then. I’ll send Corin back to Gyldan with the treasure, and she’ll tell him that was the only thing she found. If a promise matters to him that much, he’ll keep his word. But there’s no guarantee this will work. It’s up to you if we take that risk.”
“Why me?”
“You’re the one who married him. You know him best.”
Briar folded her hands in her lap, fiddling with the daisy stems wrapped around her fingers. Corin noticed she didn’t wear a wedding ring.
“That’s the problem,” Briar murmured. “I didn’t really know him at all.”
In their silence, the white petals in Briar’s cup dissolved. A bee buzzed past her hair, swirling around the table as if lost. She plucked one of the daffodils from her crown and set the stem inside the centerpiece vase. The glass filled itself with water, and the daffodil morphed into a sunflower. The bee nestled between the petals, burrowing itself in the comfort of seeds and pollen.
Briar stood up from the table and said, “I need some time to think.”
Butterflies followed her cape as she headed toward the cottage, leaving behind daffodil petals in her trail. Corin gritted her teeth and steadied her impatience. She needed the treasure but couldn’t make her motivations obvious. She forced herself to remain still as the rest of the table continued their tea party.
Penny brought out a tray of desserts, a dozen buttercream cakes with lemon filling on top. Malicine swirled their hand over their teacup, turning the liquid a darker plum color, the smell of wine wafting in the air. Dime swiped the same tart that Malicine’s raven pecked at, and the two creatures began squawking at each other. Elly laughed among them, because of course she would find it funny without questioning if it made sense.
Meanwhile, Corin didn’t understand how anyone could behave like this was normal. Like this was real.
Elly turned to her, noticing Corin was the only one who hadn’t joined the table. She offered Corin a plate with tarts, a gesture of reconciliation in the form of sugar and butter. Corin should have revered this opportunity. They were slowly making up for their previous argument, a rare chance to finally get along.
Instead she shook her head in response to Elly, her eyes fixed on the wooden door of the cottage. The smell of daffodils and honey drifted from inside. She pictured Briar draped over the windowsill, keeping her secrets tucked within lithe limbs and careful grace.
But Corin did not have the tolerance for feigned pleasantries. She wanted answers, even if that meant stepping up to the porch and opening that door without asking.