Verena
Traveling from one faerie shrine to another with Wulf's magic witch stone was surprisingly anticlimactic.
One moment, we were slipping past a horde of unsuspecting, praying townspeople into one of Ayna's many mirror-covered shrines, which looked a lot like an ornate, enclosed gazebo.
In the next moment, we walked out of an abandoned, wrought-iron shrine halfway buried under tangles of massive, thorny vines.
In fact, this entire overgrown clearing in the middle of a hazy forest is filled with spiked vines as thick as tree trunks. They sprout with burgundy roses, curling and spiraling all over the place—even arching over a nearby creek that babbles in the otherwise total silence.
The warmth in the air is a shock compared to the crisp spring still hanging over Isenmere.
"We're not in Kansas anymore, huh, Toto?" I murmur, rubbing my arms and eyeing the derelict exterior of the shrine.
This place certainly feels cursed.
Then again, I may be biased because the last time I was here was so fucking awful.
"Toto?" the Huntsman repeats, stashing the witch stone in his backpack slung over one shoulder.
He's also carrying another leather backpack I filled with a huge stack of technical drawings for dresses and a few other things, not to mention the basket of food in his hand.
As imposing as this taciturn man looks, he makes a damn good pack mule.
"Something from her world, undoubtedly. I suggest we don't even bother asking anymore," Eris says from the shiny axe at his hip.
Wulf grunts and nods his chin at our surroundings. "Though Rosenwald is temperate and filled with the valuable belongings of those cursed to slumber, few ever dare to trespass in this kingdom. They say faerie curses are catching."
Now that he mentions it, I can't help noticing that the air is thick around us, so breezeless it feels almost groggy. My gaze drifts over the endless brambles, but I blink when I see four spotted deer nearby, curled up to sleep in this overgrown meadow.
That explains the freakish quiet. Apparently everything is cursed to sleep here, like it's been frozen in time.
"Mal—" I stop myself from saying his name out loud, since that's how he talked in my head last time. "The Faerie of Wrath did all of this, just because he wasn't invited to a baby blessing?"
"He is wrath personified. I'm sure a wretched temper comes with the territory," Eris shrugs. Then he frowns up at me. "Verena. How is it that you know the long-rumored reason he cursed this kingdom? The queen's journal didn't mention it, nor have we."
I'm getting antsy standing around outside this shrine, so I decide maybe I'll tell them they're all straight out of a book of fairy tales some other time.
Or better yet, I'll never have to mention that strange fact because I'll hopefully be back in my world in a matter of minutes.
Speaking of which…
"Hey, Wulf?"
The Huntsman looks at me expectantly, his light blue eyes tracing my features.
"There are drawings in my bag. If Mal—if the faerie can send me home right away, please take them to Ida and have her make the dresses according to the specifications I wrote down. Then deliver them to Snow White, Anika, and Ingrid. I want them to have something to remember me by when I'm gone."
He looks away with an expression I don't understand, but nods.
"It shall be done."
We're all silent as Wulf leads me down a steep set of misshapen stone stairs under the shrine. They're easy to miss, under all the brambles.
As we descend, Eris's voice is wary. "Are you certain you want to go through with this unpleasantness, Verena?"
"If by unpleasantness, you mean freeing a faerie so I'm not stuck here watching my soul splinter even more or dying as the evil queen…then yep, I'm pretty certain."
"I'm talking about the spell that frees the faerie."
I was on autopilot yesterday writing everything he told me to, but it didn't seem like a long spell. I'm beyond grateful that Eris is somehow well-read in this world, even when it comes to magical shit. He said turning a spell inside out isn't complicated.
I don't get why he sounds unhappy about this one—but soon, we're standing in the same underground prison where I was tied to a chair several days ago.
In fact, that same chair is still here, toppled over near one of the puddles. I grimace at the sight of it.
Wulf sees, and to the big guy's credit, he looks like guilt is eating him alive.
He starts to say something, but goosebumps rise on my arms when Malivant's voice drags over my skin like cold velvet.
"So you've returned after all. How serendipitous. I had my doubts that mirror-bound vagabond would ever deliver my message, given how smitten he is by you."
Smitten?
I'm ready to snort and tell the faerie he's way off because Eris isn't into anyone like that.
But I catch a glimpse of the gorgeous prismatic-haired ghost's expression in the reflection of Wulf's axe. He's not disagreeing.
When his gaze moves to me with meaning, my heart skips two beats.
Holy shit. Eris has a thing for me.
I've been plenty aware of the way he's watched me, including when I was bathing—but I just thought he was appreciating the aesthetic of a naked woman, because hello? Who wouldn't?
I feel fucking dense now for not realizing, but this is something we should talk about later, after I free the magical jerk imprisoned nearby.
"You have ascertained the spell to free me?" Malivant checks.
"That—ahem."
I clear my embarrassingly weak voice, nervous as hell about being anywhere near this monster again. The kind of agony he can deal without even having to touch the person he's punishing…
Shivering, I try again. "That depends. Can you really help me?"
"I can and I shall, once this infernal curse is destroyed at last."
Okay, then this is it.
I'm officially going home.
But first…
I take another step into the decayed stone prison and lift my chin to ask, "Before I get started, do you know how Eris can get out of the mirror realm permanently?"
The Faerie of Wrath makes a sound of pure annoyance. "Astounding as this may be to you, I am not some all-knowing consultant for questions that mortals have no business asking."
That's absolutely faerie-speak for, Bitch, do I look like Google?
I hesitate for a millisecond before going for the ego angle.
"My bad. It's just that—well, as we've very painstakingly established, I'm new here, but I keep hearing people talk about faeries like they're all that and a bag of chips.
I'll just go find someone else to ask once we're done here.
There's probably some magic tree or imp or something out there that knows a lot more than you about mirror realm stuff, huh? "
Chains clank together. I try not to look too hard at the shadows behind the twisted bars and vines, just in case I glimpse something nightmarish.
Of all the statues and stained glass windows I've seen depicting the Thirteen Faeries, I'm not actually sure if I've seen Malivant's likeness anywhere.
Curse my flighty attention span—because now, there's nothing worse than not knowing what this powerful monster I'm about to set free looks like.
"It's unwise to bait me," Malivant's smoky voice warns.
"Drat. You caught me." I mime snapping my fingers.
Then I tip my head. "Not that it matters, because come to think of it, you have been incarcerated for almost a century.
One of the other twelve faeries might have a better grasp of the current goings-on with ghosts trapped in mirrors.
Maybe I should track one of them down so I can help him before I go home.
If you don't mind waiting a few more days—"
"As woefully transparent as you are, I would be amiss not to warn you away from the other faeries.
Crones only know how that lot would amuse themselves with a transmigrated soul like yours.
Know this: your admirer is not a ghost, but rather a displaced soul.
Unmoored. Whatever body he once had, he merely cannot return to it, for whatever reason. "
I glance at Eris, who's hanging out in one of the rippling puddles near the underground waterfall. Wulf stands near me, though he's set down the bags and basket.
"So if someone tracks down Eris's body, he'll be able to leave the mirror realm?"
"Assumably."
"But what if his body is just…gone? Decomposed, or something?"
"If his body passed away, he would also have passed on," Malivant sighs, like that should be the most obvious thing in this fucked-up fairytale world. "Now, the spell."
As I pull the paper out from my pocket, Eris moves to a closer pool.
"You don't have to free him, Fairest. I'll give an honest effort this time, teaching you to read."
Aha. So he was intentionally being a shitty teacher.
I suspected as much, but it doesn't matter. Why spend so much time scouring the evil queen's dusty journals when Malivant can send me back to my world right away?
Before I go, I'll use the Huntsman's pledge to ensure Eris will have help finding his body.
I might also ask Wulf to keep an eye on Snow White when I'm gone. She'll have a lot more support here, and I'll just go back to everything I was before all of this.
Alone and scarred, but safe.
As safe as I've ever managed to feel since I escaped him, anyway.
Unrolling the paper in my hand, I scan the charcoal writing. It's what I jotted down yesterday, zoned out as Eris gave me each word.
But I freeze now, scanning it again with my reading comprehension skills turned on this time.
Oh, my god.
"Please tell me this isn't saying what I think it's saying," I whisper-hiss to Eris.
"I tried repeatedly to warn you that this would be unpleasant."
"Unpleasant is the understatement of the fucking century. I know Rhinestone was a horny bitch with issues, but are you sure you reverse-engineered this thing correctly?"
"Yes. Again, it's not too late to simply learn to read instead."
I groan and start to pace. Seriously, why can't I catch a break in this world?
Malivant's tone is scathing with impatience. "Do share what has you in hysterics."
"To break the curse, we have to…" I gag and keep pacing.