Chapter Eight
Andi
Elana giggles as she runs over, curtsying extravagantly. “Princess Andrina.”
She dances around in circles with an imaginary partner, humming to herself, “My sister, a princess.” She stops mid-spin, and her dress swings against her legs. Her eyes widen enthusiastically. “Wait… what does that make me?”
“A pain in my arse, I think,” I jest.
Elana elbows me as she passes, continuing her waltz.
Wyatt teases, pointing at Elana, “Off with her head.”
I roll my eyes, looking to Myles for support, but instead, he stands to attention, saluting me.
“Glad you guys are having fun with my… predicament.” They all throw their arms around me, squeezing me tight. “I can’t breathe. Get off.” Pushing them away, I shake my head at their pestering.
The necklace is still clutched in my hands. What do I do with this? It was a present from Dad, despite its purpose. Could the witch remove the spell? If I found her again, I would ask. Instinctively, I clasp the necklace around my neck.
“So, what now?” Wyatt asks.
I look into the faces of my family, the folk closest to my heart.
What happens now? Do I pretend everything is normal and forget everything I have learned?
Do I leave? No. I can’t abandon them. But then I need to learn more about my family, what happened to them, and why they were attacked.
Do I become who I was born to be, a princess?
From the darkness of the woods appears a bright light, a fire floating in our direction. Strange voices ring through the woods, growing louder with each breath. Two men search the woods, scanning the ground and trees. My necklace weighs me down, slicing at my skin, a warning, telling me to run.
In a frantic motion, my feet move before I register what’s happening.
I extinguish the candles inside the cottage and hide in the darkness. Wyatt, Myles, and Elana follow me inside, making more noise than I would like. I hush them, pulling them to the ground.
“Ouch!” Elana whispers, “Why are we on the floor in the dark? Do you know how filthy this floor is?”
“One, we’re hiding from the men in the forest, and two, isn’t it your job to clean the floor?”
She pouts at me whilst huffing, knowing I’m right.
Myles leans into me, whispering, “What men?”
“You didn’t see them? They carried torches, and there was a glowing object guiding them. I can’t explain it. My necklace… warned me?” It has been heavier than usual since the witch first messed with it at the festival.
Did she take away part of her spells? I don’t know. All I know, is there were two men in the woods in the middle of the night, heading this way.
Wyatt crawls to the window and looks out. “I don’t see anything, let me go round back for a better look.”
He opens the door and creeps out into the night. I mutter to Elana to tell Mum to be still and quiet until we know what’s going on.
Minutes that feel like hours pass as we sit in complete silence. No one dares make a sound. The ticking of the clock echoes around the room, booming in my head, and I flinch with each tick.
The door squeaks open and Wyatt slides along the floor beside Myles and me.
“You’re right, there’s torchlight in the woods, looks like it’s heading this way. How did you—? You know what, I don’t need to know.” Just like Wyatt, he goes with the flow no matter what.
Myles reaches for the letter from Dad, holding it out. “Didn’t you say they would hunt you if you used magic? That’s what your dad wrote, isn’t it?”
I take the letter from him, unable to read it in the dark, but I don’t have to. I memorised every word. “Yeah, it said someone would hunt me. But how did they know where to find me?”
Swallowing hard, I wrack my brain for a way out. We can’t stay here. Not now.
Elana and Mum slip into the room. “It’s darker than a witch’s heart in here.” Mum gasps.
“We need to leave.”
“Leave?” Mum asks, “Why would we do that?”
“I was using my magic today in the woods behind the house. Now there are strange men outside. I don’t know how they tracked me, or if they’re even here for me, but they are here.
I don’t want to take the chance that it’s me they’re searching for.
Maybe it’s a good idea for you guys to stay at the inn.
Just for a few days.” Mum opens her mouth to protest.
“Please, Mum. I need you to listen to me. If anything happened to any of you, it would kill me.”
She clenches her jaw, but nods in agreement.
Wyatt whispers, “Alright, folks, you heard the royal decree.”
I fling a cushion at him, narrowing my eyes.
Mum and Elana pack a bag to leave—with a lot of persuasion.
Myles stands by the window, pushing the curtain to one side, inspecting the men outside.
He beckons Wyatt over, whispering to him.
I crawl to the window and glance outside.
The two men hang around outside the cottage, examining the area, continually checking the glowing object.
Under the cover of darkness, Wyatt sneaks through the back of the house and slips around the side, darting behind trees and bushes before leaping over the wall and off into the night.
Whispering to Myles, I ask, “Where’s he going?”
“To create a diversion.” My eyebrows raise. Misneach, did Myles just give Wyatt free rein on this? “He’ll give us a signal when we’re clear.”
I peer out through the window, watching the men as they scour the woods entrance. My eyes dart between the men and Wyatt, as his head pokes up beyond the wall, watching them.
While they face away from him, he speeds over the bridge into Vendyl. Whatever he is doing seems to be working, so far anyway. My heart races, worrying about him.
“What is Wyatt doing?” Mum asks as she walks back into the room, thumping her bag on the floor.
“Quiet,” I snap at her. Even in the dark, I can feel that glare on me. “Please,” I add. “Wyatt went out to… redirect the men so we can leave.”
I watch with bated breath, as Wyatt stumbles and weaves back down to the bridge.
“He looks drunk.” Myles’ smile widens. “Oh, that's the plan, is it? Yours or his? Never mind, I already know the answer.”
Everything about this plan screams Wyatt.
I laugh under my breath, rolling my eyes as Wyatt trips over his own two feet, spilling whatever is in his bottle over himself. At least he’ll smell the part.
The men spin around, disturbed by Wyatt singing very loudly and very badly down the road. I gesture to Mum and Elana, telling them to get ready. Once Wyatt signals to us, we can slip out the cottage.
Wyatt stumbles over to the two disgusted-looking men, swaying close to their faces.
They try to pull away, but Wyatt keeps a grip on their shoulders.
The men mouth something at Wyatt, waving their arms at him, shooing him away.
One pushes Wyatt onto the ground. He lies there, throwing his hands in the air as he shouts something back, tossing liquid everywhere.
They retreat into the woods, and Wyatt follows them, shouting and waving around his bottle. Once they get far enough away, he stops and turns his head to the cottage, chugging the bottle and strutting towards the window, giving a deep bow.
My shoulders relax, and my hand flies to my head in astonishment, laughing at the absolute fool.
Mum comes out of the cottage reluctantly, with Elana stumbling after her, groggy and grumpy from a long night. Mum nods to Myles, then to me. I give a half smile in return. This raw wound prevents me from forgiving her, but I don’t want to stay angry.
Myles takes Mum’s bag, and we head towards the town. Elana hangs on my arm, resting her head on my shoulder while Wyatt takes her other arm, bearing most of her weight.
“You are stinking,” I say under my breath. Wyatt laughs, hearing me.
I’m pretty sure Elana is sleeping as she walks beside us, dragging her feet along the streets—and they say I’m the princess. Myles and Mum walk a little behind us, engaged in conversation, not that I can make out words, but I am curious about the interest Mum has taken in him.
Shaking Elana awake as we near the inn, Mum takes her by the arm and walks through the door. Myles and I follow them in, making sure they have a room for tonight at least.
The inn in Vendyl is not elegant to say the least, the tables and chairs are old and rickety, the floorboards sticky with a variety of drinks, squeak with each step, but at least they will be safe here.
Wyatt helps Elana upstairs as the innkeeper hands over a key.
Mum turns, realising I am not following her.
Answering her unspoken question, I say, “I’m going to stay with Myles.” Mum narrows her eyes at me but nods her head and heads up the stairs behind Elana.
Myles comes up beside me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He whispers in my ear, “Let’s go home.”
Home, that has a nice ring to it.
I don’t know what time it is, but my body physically complains with each laborious step up the mountain of stairs.
Myles takes my hand and pulls me up the last few steps.
As we enter the room, he spins me around, placing my arms around his neck, and rests his around my waist. We slow dance to the utter silence of the night, each step matching the drumming of our hearts.
“I think we should stay here forever,” I say.
“Here? Above the shop? No, I think we can do better than that.”
I laugh. “Not here.” I gesture around the room. “Here.” I point to him.
His forehead rests against my own. His fingers slide up my spine, and I gently stroke the nape of his neck.
“That’s the plan.”
Blowing the steam from my coffee, I snuggle into the cosy armchair underneath the window. Outside, birds chirp a harmonious song, mirroring my sentiments with each graceful note.
Yesterday was difficult, to say the least.
My head is still reeling from all the new information. Magic? I suck in my bottom lip, visualising the luminescent glow whirling up my arm, the taste of the freshest strawberries I have ever found.
Taking in the room, I spy pieces of parchment paper messily tucked in a drawer of the table beside me. Looking over my shoulder at Myles, making sure he is still sound asleep, I sneak a glance at the pages. Drawings.
Many, many drawings of me.
My face, my eyes, my marking. Sketches of a small cottage on the side of the river under the willow tree.
They’re amazing.
“What are you looking at, nosey?”
I jump guiltily, stuffing the papers back into the drawer. Myles comes up behind me; taking my coffee, he pulls the papers out and hands them to me again. His eyebrows raise as I’m caught taking in his messy morning hair and his slightly stubbled jaw.
“You’re staring at me like I’m a piece of meat.”
“Fine A-grade too.” I smirk. Myles laughs, his cheeks flushing a light shade of pink.
I hold up the pages with a questioning look.
“I wasn’t hiding them,” he says as he sinks into the couch. “I threw them into the drawer after our argument, not wanting to see your face.” Myles’ lips quirk up at the side for a moment.
Changing the subject from our little spat, I say, “They’re great. I didn’t know you could draw?”
Myles shrugs but before he can answer, a commotion outside snags our attention. Folk yell and roar over the top of each other. Myles rushes to open the door for a look, I try to squeeze beside him to see, but Myles pulls me back.
“Guards.”