Chapter 5 Paeonia #2
She shook her head and tried to steady her breathing as she pulled on the handle. “Come on!” she shouted in an agitated breath.
She hastily backed away from the castle to see if there were any other entrances. Perhaps she could climb some of the wisteria that scaled the walls and slip in through one of the windows. She shook her head; she didn’t have enough time to attempt to heave herself up.
“Stars,” she cursed.
She didn’t know what to do. Where she stood now, against the wall of the castle, she was easy prey. At least she’d stand a fighting chance if she hid amongst the bushes and flowerbeds, out of the moon’s glow.
She scurried onto the grounds, the large hedges now shielding her sight, unable to glimpse the wolves.
She began to run, sprinting as fast as she could down the garden’s footpath, the dim lighting making it hard to see.
She took a sharp left, rounding a considerable magnolia tree, and dug her heels into the dirt to try and slow herself.
Paeonia headed full-force toward a circular well, realizing too late.
She toppled forward, right over the short, smooth stone border of the well, heading into the starlit depth. In those brief moments, she wondered how far it might go down. It happened too fast for her to scream. Too fast for her to throw her hands out and grab onto the rim of the well.
A heavy force grabbed her waist and shoved her body in the opposite direction, unable to breathe as she slammed against the hard ground.
Her eyes almost crossed, panting wildly for air, choking on nothing as her lungs refused to inflate.
She gazed into the eyes of a stag. A stag far bigger than any animal she had ever seen before, with brown human-like eyes and horns that resembled tree roots strewing from his head in all directions.
He had patchy fur that covered his cervine body, bits of bald patches making him seem like he rose from the dead.
Then she noticed the misshapen wings that rolled over the side of his body like a knoll.
Mesmerized, she struggled to tear her attention away, his face a sickly burgundy shade, but the rest of him brindled.
He tilted his head as his gaze settled on her, his neck oddly long and flexible.
When she finally caught her breath, she coughed several times.
Then she remembered the wolves that were chasing her.
The monsters crept down the garden’s corridor, but they seemed frozen in place, not moving any closer to where Paeonia sat on the ground before the stag.
They arched their backs as if in fear. One whimpered as the stag slowly turned to face the wolves.
The wolves gave a glance at Paeonia before turning in the opposite direction and leaving from where they came.
“Y-you saved me,” she slurred. She sat back on her hands, her heart rate steadying.
She tried to suppress the disquiet that erupted inside her at his eyes.
So human-like, but now blue instead of brown.
Various little flowers budded on the end of his rooted horns, a bit of lichen draping between them.
He looked like he just sprouted from the dirt, a mushroom blooming behind his ear.
An astonishing creature, one that seemed unreal, like it slipped from someone’s dreams. He shook his wings out before they nestled back flush with his body.
The stag’s jaw shifted like he was about to talk, and Paeonia’s eyes widened. It was going to talk.
A loud growl disrupted him, startling the stag so it reared back on its hindlegs. Paeonia watched in terror as a Stoneborne strode from the twilight, a sword drawn from his hip, aiming it toward the stag. The creature took off, an odd red light glittering in its trail.
Paeonia swallowed harshly. “He saved me,” she said, a bit shocked, attempting to defend the stag.
“Saved you?” he scoffed. “If you had let it speak—had let his words fill your tiny human ears”—he leaned over slightly, closer to her, his hand waving in a wild and demeaning gesture as he pointed to her ears—“you wouldn’t be staring at me like that right now.
Your soul mingling with the Eldritch?” he ridiculed in disbelief, huffing a breath, shaking his head as he stood straight. “Your eyes would have been his.”
His eyes… They looked so human.
Her mouth hung slack, her cheeks and neck feverish.
It seemed she had a habit of running into feral creatures as of late.
The Stoneborne shook his head in irritation, bending over to pick up her locket that must have fallen off in the ruckus.
She hadn’t even noticed. He twirled it in his gray fingers before finally outstretching his hand to return the jewelry.
Paeonia hesitantly took it and mumbled a ‘thank you’. The man adjusted the stone sword plastered to his hip, his body covered in armor. Her curiosity rose. If he donned armor, that must have meant he was trapped in that singular attire.
“Stoneborne,” Paeonia began, her words tentative as he watched her, “where do they come from?”
“Perhaps we should discuss this inside.”
On cue, a wolf howled in the distance, a shiver racking down her spine.
She nodded before trailing behind the Stoneborne.
She worried that Rowan would reprimand her for leaving her rooms, but oddly, even as they entered the castle, it remained quiet.
Had he not known she had left? Had he not heard any of the commotion?
The Stoneborne began up the stairs, and Paeonia followed. He wore a helm that covered his head and hair, just leaving his mouth exposed, his features indistinguishable. She wondered if it was uncomfortable being trapped in that outfit. Could Stoneborne even feel comfort?
“Where are you taking me?”
She swore she heard him curse under his breath. “Back to your rooms. You shouldn’t have been out there in the first place.”
Her heart sank when they reached the top of the stairs. He rounded on her like he couldn’t hold back his admonishment any longer. “What were you thinking, you ditsy girl?”
A flush of guilt crossed Paeonia’s features, her lips pursed.
She almost had a notion to accuse the Stoneborne from earlier for her trouble.
The Stoneborne may have told her she’d find what she wanted in the gardens, yes, but Paeonia was already creeping out of her room after being explicitly told not to.
She couldn’t in good faith blame the Stoneborne woman.
“I just don’t see why I’m locked in at night,” she huffed.
He rolled on the balls of his feet. “Quickly, then,” he reproached with agitation.
“What?”
“Ask me what you want to know, and I’ll answer. But only one question.”
Paeonia grabbed the banister as she pondered, the irritation quickly blooming in the Stoneborne’s stance, his body tensing, his foot tapping.
“Why was he so willing to make a deal with me?” She bit her lip. Perhaps that question was foolish. “I know he said he needs someone to tend to his garden, but I just can’t understand why he’d bargain that. I thought fae bartered things like souls and first-born children.”
He hummed faintly. “Rowan, I presume?” he clarified.
Paeonia nodded.
“What you’ve learned about fae has clearly been skewed by despondent humans,” he began, glancing over at the grandfather clock standing beside the window.
“Whatever Rowan decides to exchange, he needs. If he made a bargain that requires you to tend to his garden, there is a good reason for it. He does not make deals that do not strictly benefit him—and rather disproportionately at that.”
Paeonia blinked stupidly several times. “He needs me?”
“Are you deaf as well as foolish?”
“One month in exchange for gardening doesn’t seem like it benefits him all that much,” she continued, ignoring his insult. “Can fae lie?” she finally asked, remembering the tales of fae, so skilled at maneuvering around the truth.
He smirked, his lips one of the few features she could decipher under the break in his helm. “Ah, I’ve already answered your one question.”
She pouted. “And what can I do to have you answer more?”
He chuckled. “Foolish, indeed. You wish to make a bargain with me?
“Are you fae, then?” She raised her brows. When he didn’t answer, she nodded.
The Stoneborne leaned back against the cherry wood railing. “Let’s see, then,” he sang. “Perhaps I’ll answer one question a night for every day you’re successful in getting Rowan to answer that same question you seek.”
She shook her head, taken aback. “But that’s… That makes no sense,” she insisted, standing a little straighter. The wind howled as it blew against the castle.
“Must I spell it out for you? Can you not think critically about anything?” His words were sharp, but she couldn’t help but feel like they held no weight.
She glared at him, and his lips ticked upward as if he was amused by her rage. Like he knew she so infrequently got angry, and she had been letting it slip slowly since arriving here. Something about these walls corrupted her.
“Words have more than one meaning. You can ask him one thing and have it mean an entirely different thing when you ask it of me.”
She didn’t see how this would benefit him in any way. “And what will you get out of this?”
“Me? Why, sheer amusement! Trapped in this castle for centuries really lowers the options for entertainment.”
“You’ve been here for centuries?” she asked, a bit startled.
He tsked. “Tomorrow, get Rowan to answer one of your questions, and I’ll answer it in return.”
“So, all I have to do is ask him and—”
“He must answer you. He cannot write you off or give you some half-answer. If he answers you in full, true or not, I’ll answer that very same question in return.”
“Truthfully?”
“I can answer no other way.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
His grin was serpentine. Then he turned on his feet and led her the rest of the way to her rooms.
“Castor,” he said softly as she entered her room. She turned to see him bowing ever so slightly. “Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Lady Paeonia.”
His words were riddled with mirth. He was teasing her. She figured he wasn’t letting on as to what he truly was getting out of this deal between the two of them.
She didn’t let it bother her. “Good night, Castor.” And she shut her door.