Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
JAX
“Let me get this straight.” Jax’s mind was a mess of convoluted plots and horrible parenting decisions that made his own family issues seem warm and fuzzy in comparison.
He stabbed a pitchfork into the large wheelbarrow full of straw, following Odessa’s example as she spread an even layer over the floor of the three-sided shelter.
The small herd of zebras stood at a distance, eyeing him with nervous suspicion.
“You’re a swan because your father caught you somewhere he would rather you not be, and instead of talking things through like a mature adult, he decided that the only reasonable course of action was to curse you? ”
Odessa propped her pitchfork against the ground and leaned against it. “It’s a bit simplified, but yes.” Exhaustion formed dark circles under her sad, beautiful eyes, but there was a stubborn strength underneath. She was beautiful and heartbreaking all at once.
And he was self-aware enough to know that though she might be cursed, he was quickly becoming enchanted.
No, no, Jax. Just because a girl with pretty eyes smiles at you and doesn’t scoff at your career doesn’t mean you’re soulmates. You’re not even from the same Realm. And she took your dragon, remember?
Not that he could entirely blame the little creature who was currently snoring cozily in her pocket. If given the choice, he would also go with Odessa.
Stop! What did we just talk about? Different Realms, remember?
He stabbed his pitchfork into the straw again, silencing his inner debate. “And he lets you retain a few hours of humanity because he needs a keeper for his menagerie?”
“I’m just the Assistant Keeper,” she was quick to correct him as she picked up her tool and joined him again.
Jax made a show of looking around. “The only one I see assisting here is me.”
“Boris is still the one in charge. It’s a royally-appointed position, so only Her Majesty can change it.”
“And no one thinks it strange that you’re just…gone during the day?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think anyone has really noticed.
As long as the Menagerie is running smoothly, Her Majesty is content to let Boris manage things as he sees fit.
The visitors who pass through during the daylight hours could hardly be expected to know better, and if someone does happen to ask for me, he’ll just tell them I’m busy working in one of the enclosures. ”
Jax frowned. “What about Dmitri? Isn’t he your friend?” The word tasted sour in his mouth, but he refused to acknowledge the reason why.
“Dimi?” she repeated with a forced, breathy laugh. “He’s the Crown Prince. He has much more important things to worry about than my whereabouts during the day. Honestly, if it weren’t for our shared childhood, I don’t think he would even be aware of my existence.”
He held up a hand. “Wait. He’s a prince? I knew it!”
“The only one we have.” Odessa looked over their work and, apparently satisfied, passed him her pitchfork and grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow.
Jax gently shouldered her out of the way, stabbing the pitchforks into the straw at an angle where they would balance on his shoulders as he pushed the heavy load. “Lead the way, Assistant Keeper.”
She narrowed her eyes at him for a moment as if preparing for an argument, then sighed in acceptance. “Come on.”
Rather than returning to the front of the enclosure where they had entered, Odessa led him further in. The rocky ground was uneven, save for a narrow track that indicated that she had traversed this same path countless times, and with each step Jax found himself growing more and more angry.
She’s expected to do this alone every night? During a time of day when no one would be around to hear her scream? What if something went wrong? What if she got hurt?
He needed a distraction. “If Dmitri is a prince, why didn’t he say anything? I was under the impression he was just a palace worker until everyone started bowing and scraping as we passed.”
She shrugged, looking over her shoulder. Her pale hair caught the moonlight, glittering like sparkles, and he nearly missed her answer. “It’s a very Dmitri thing to do. He’s one of those rare sorts that understands that his title is a job description, not a defining character trait.”
“If that’s the case, why wouldn’t you at least try to tell him about your—”
She cut him off with a glare, and he mis-stepped, causing the wheelbarrow to teeter dangerously. “I’m just saying,” he continued as he corrected his course. “He’s your friend. He’s a prince. If there’s anyone with resources to help you, surely it would be him.”
They came to a tall brick wall, overgrown with ivy.
Odessa unlocked a narrow door and held it open, gesturing for him to pass through before her.
He stepped onto a narrow dirt path that followed the line of the wall for further than his eyes could see in both directions.
The thick forest beyond was nothing but dark shadows and rustling leaves, and his magical senses caught nothing more than a few faint strains of Owl.
Though he had been invited, the entire situation felt as if he had ventured into a forbidden area.
Odessa jutted her chin toward the wall as she locked the door behind her. “You can leave that there. We won’t need it for the rest of the night.”
He parked the wheelbarrow where she indicated, then shoved his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside her. “So…?” he prodded.
“So what?”
“So why don’t you try to tell Dmitri what is going on?”
She blew out an exasperated breath as she looked at him wryly from the corner of her eye. “You’re really stuck on this, aren’t you?”
“I’m a Bird Catcher. I’m naturally curious about all the enchanted swans I happen to meet.”
“Yes, I’m sure there are so many.”
He grinned. “It’s not the quantity, it’s the quality.”
“Right.” She rolled her eyes, but he could see the hint of a smile on her lips. “To answer your question, since you apparently weren’t curious enough to listen the first time, I don’t tell him because I can’t.”
“You don’t think he would understand?”
“No, I mean I am physically unable. It’s part of the stipulations of the curse.
” She reached for his arm, pulling him to a stop as she stepped up to a door in the wall that was so well-hidden that he would have walked right by without even noticing.
Her touch had lasted no longer than a few seconds, but the warmth of her fingers lingered even after she dropped her hand to wrestle with the door handle, which appeared to be sticking.
He flexed his hand, willing the sensation to leave his forearm.
Different realms, Jax. There’s no point in getting involved.
“You’re talking about it with me,” he pointed out as the door finally opened with a protesting creak.
Once again, Odessa motioned for him to precede her.
“Only—as I told you before—because you brought it up first.” She suddenly froze and her eyes narrowed into suspicious slits.
“Something that was never satisfactorily explained. How did you know? Did Boris send you? Is this some sort of twisted manipulation tactic? I should warn you that the lions are probably on my side.”
Bean, no doubt disturbed by the sudden animosity in her tone, poked his head out of her pocket and chimed in with a tiny growl for good measure.
“So is the dragon,” she added.
Jax held up his hands. “I’ve never met your father.”
“Then how did you really figure it out?”
“I told you—you didn’t react to my music.”
“My lack of enthusiasm for an unprompted panpipe solo is enough to suggest that I’m cursed? Isn’t that just a little self-absorbed?” She folded her arms across her chest, absently stroking the top of Bean’s head with the tip of her finger.
He mirrored her stance, minus the dragon—a distinction that only served to add insult to injury. “I’m a Bird Catcher.”
“So you’ve said, and yet I’ve not seen you catch a single bird.”
At least she didn’t try to argue that it wasn’t a real occupation. Progress, I guess?
“So is my father. And his father, and my great-grandfather, all my uncles, and every male in the generations going back as far as any of our records care to recall.”
She answered him with nothing but a tilt of her eyebrow.
Jax sighed as he shoved a hand through his hair. “If there’s one thing that I’ve been raised to understand, it’s birds. Our magic is specifically focused in bird song—how to replicate it, how to manipulate it, how to communicate through it. My magic should have worked on you, but it didn’t.”
“You said music before.”
“Music, magic—same thing.” He waved a hand.
She gave him a flat look. “I’ve seen magic firsthand. Boris does not sing.”
Jax tilted his head, listening to the magic around him. “Magic does seem to work differently here. Where I come from, it’s channeled and shaped by music. Your realm has many of the same songs, but…” He wrinkled his nose. “They’re all out of tune.”
“What do you mean, ‘your realm’? Are you implying that you’re from a different one?”
He could hear the note of skepticism in her voice. “I’m not implying anything.”
“Then what?”
“I’m not implying, I’m stating. I came from Faerie. I’m not exactly sure how I got here, other than that there’s a wizard out there with some explaining to do, but I’m not a permanent resident of this realm.”
She blinked, her blue eyes wide and luminescent in the moonlight. “You’re from Faerie,” she repeated slowly.
“Yes. The Spring Court, to be exact.”
“And the magic that you learned there is how you knew that I was under a curse.”
“Kind of?” Jax rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Even though I was able to get my magic to work on the other birds, it didn’t on you. I could hear that your song wasn’t right for a swan, but until you were you again, I didn’t realize why.”
She dropped her arms to her sides, losing the defensive posture she had taken. “What do you mean?”