62. Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Two
Astrid
I can barely sleep through the night, having retired to my bedroom after Augustus fell asleep on the couch. I draped a blanket over him on my way to bed. I don’t know how he was able to fall asleep mid-sentence like that. I shrug off the thought as I jump in the shower, and ready for the day. I try on a black double slit skirt that has two panels, one that hangs in the front and the other in the back. I like the way the front falls, accentuating the muscles of my legs. This kind of skirt isn’t awful, I’ll concede to that. I twist from side to side in the mirror, appreciating the way the back panel hugs my asset. I pull on the black top that barely covers my rib cage, the fabric over my breasts crosses before tying behind my neck. I pull on my boots, fingers making quick work of the laces before I face the mirror one more time.
My now raven black hair shines purple and green in the morning light. I give myself a small smile appreciating the curve of my own lips, and the light that gathers in my silver eyes even with my scar still present. It’s something to connect me to my past, to the person I was as I move into this new version of me. I run my hands through my loose hair feeling the horns that have grown there when a knock interrupts my thoughts.
“The healers are ready for you,” Augustus says when I answer the door. I nod and follow him into the halls. “The Crone said she could meet with you after.” Augustus takes the lead, confidently walking through the halls as we pass crowds of soldiers as they move through their patrols. I cave in on myself, trying to keep as much distance between myself and the others walking the tunnels.
“She attacked me, she’s lucky I don’t give her a piece of my mind,” I bristle, not sure that I can trust that old fae, but I’ll be cordial until the witch throws the first punch.
“You’re one of us now, she’d never put you in harm’s way.” Augustus forces a sharp right as we walk through the tunnels. I continue dodging those who venture too close to touching me.
“Am I one of you?” I ask the question quietly, not sure if I want the answer. “I don’t know the first thing about being fae, like what’re these?” I reach up exposing my horns. “And why does it feel good when I touch them?” I frantically ask, getting my hair tangled and it sticks up at odd angles. A piece of me wants to figure out what the woman in my vision was talking about, the part of me that knows I’m missing some vital piece of information. I shove it down; I need to know that my family is safe first before anything else. I walk through the door of the infirmary, cutting off our conversation.
“Tell me about this illness,” Master Physician Madson sits at his large oval desk in one of the back offices off the infirmary. Augustus insisted on remaining by my side, and I must admit I appreciate the support.
“It starts like a cough or a cold, but before I left the city there was this one incident. I don’t know if this relates to the illness, I just know that they claimed it was the illness. But black wasps swarmed the city, and forced their way down the throats of the district leaders. Then the physicians claimed it was the illness.” Everything comes tumbling out of my mouth. I need an answer and these are the people who are supposed to have one. I don’t want to leave a single detail out.
“Wasps you say? I’ve never heard of anything quite like that before, I’ll have to check the books,” Madson says after considering a moment. “Were you near any of the ill?” He looks to be about mid-thirties, with a round face and bulbous nose common among trolls, his orc tusks and grey hair that stick from his head in tufts are a little off putting, and he has calm, kind eyes. Something that put me at ease the moment I sat with him. He wears a white lab coat with his name embroidered over the right breast pocket.
“I was near my father after he fell ill at our seasonal festival.” It’s the only time I saw the illness in person.
Madson nods. “I’ll have to take some blood to see if you carry the illness.” He stands from his chair to pull supplies from the cabinets that line the room. He returns to his chair, holding out a hand for my arm over the desk. I quickly place my upturned wrist in his outstretched fingers. He quickly locates a vein, and inserts the needle, the slight pinch doesn’t hurt too much. The master physician fills eight vials before removing the needle and pressing gauze to the wound.
“I’ll have some news for you in the next few days.” Madson stands, and offers a small smile to me before disappearing down the hall.
“The Crone will see you in the throne room under the supervision of Queen Neera. She is highly displeased with how that old fae handled her suspicions.” Augustus walks just behind me in the narrow mountain passage ways. The need to be close to him throbs inside of me, but the want to keep him safe and alive out weighs it. It stings like rejection, even though I know it’s not. I just want to touch him again, to feel him hold me through the night sharing his warmth.
“I’ll need to revisit the guardian of the mountain. I have questions that only she can answer,” I say, pausing in front of the double doors and taking a deep breath. I exhale it and don a mask of cool calculation. It’s the same mask I wore in Demendia, the same mask I used to parade around the city pretending to be meek like Papa wanted. This mask is one of regal grace, the same kind of look I saw on Queen Neera’s face when we arrived.
I push the large double doors open to reveal Queen Neera in deep red regally seated on her throne. The Crone stands before her, below the dais.
“Welcome, Heir of the Demon war, Princess of Myrr, and rightful ruler of the Empire!” Neera shouts, and the fae nobles throughout the room cheer as I absorb the crowd dumbfounded.
“We’ve been looking for you for a long time,” Augustus says, his breath whispering against the shell of my ear, and I feel his absence when he pulls away regaining his posture.
The Crone stops me as I approach, and before I can take the steps up onto the platform, the elder fae throws herself at my feet.
“I am sincerely sorry for my misdeeds; I had no idea who you truly were. I am so glad you are with us now.” The Crone bows, bending her torso over her legs. “If I can be of any assistance in your quest please let me know,” the old fae says into the ground. I let my anger take over, not willing to give her the forgiveness she is asking for. She threw my life into a tornado with little remorse.
“Rise.” My voice is so cold I don’t recognize it as I try to keep my temper under control, and the Crone does as I command. I don’t offer her remorse, instead I jump directly into the reason why we are here so early. “What do you know of your sister? The Crone of Myrr’s swamp?”
“I’ve felt her distress in the recent days, but if it was serious Beau would’ve found me.” The Crone twirls the rings on her knobby fingers.
“Actually, we brought Beau—” I’m interrupted by the throne room door flying open with a band followed by Effie and a small black puff of fur.
“Sorry we’re late,” Effie says with a smile, Beau runs up to the Crone shifting into his monster form to nuzzle against the hunched old woman’s cheek.
“Beau my sweet, how is my best boy,” the Crone coos, returning his affections with gentle pats and kisses.
“You’re actually right on time, how’d you do that?” I scratch my head watching the old fae and her familiar.
“Good timing,” Effie shrugs.
“My sister was taken!” The Crone gasps, pressing a hand over her mouth as Beau presses his teeth to her ear moving them like he’s talking, but all I can make out are growls. “Sorcerers!” The Crone growls looking like she could murder someone.
“There can’t be sorcerers in Myrr. It's safe.” Effie shakes her head looking from Beau to the Crone.
“It was definitely sorcerers, they’ve infiltrated the city, stolen my sister and I’m sure now they are lying in wait to strike,” the Crone seethes.
“We need a plan before we can do anything. I’m not sending soldiers to defend against a maybe,” Neera says leaning back into her chair. “And the healers have informed me that Astrid needs to find a cure as well.” Her gaze moves to my face, and I nod my confirmation.
“Waiting on the healers will give us plenty of time to plan our attack with King Ephraim. We’ll get those damn sorcerers,” the Crone promises.
I pull the silver dowelled scroll from her boot and the Crone eyes me curiously. “I was trying to find my parents when the library led me to this.”
“The Hall of Fates has bestowed you a prophecy.” The Crone’s eyes grow wide. “It only appears to fae who need guidance.”
“Well, how do I read it?” I unroll the scroll to reveal the blank parchment.
“Just like most things here. You bleed on it.” The Crone crosses her arms as I retrieve a dagger from Effie and prick my finger. I let a solitary drop of blood land on the page and words bloom across the scroll in elegant calligraphy.
Lost one, reborn until the war is won.
You must defeat Hel’s demon spawn.
And the many must become one
To succeed find the mirror dark and old,
To find a story that is forgotten, untold.
The lost ones sleep until their memories awake.
With one last task they must face.
To free the realm and stake their claim
The only one to lead is a Banvaenn.
Connected through history not by name,
But an Empire united once again.
Only then will the return of the Gods begin.
“A new prophecy revealed!” the Crone cries and the throne room is thrown into the chaos of shouted celebration.
“What does it mean?” I ask walking up to Augustus and Effie.
“Do you recognize any of the phrases?” Effie asks her eyes darting to Augustus like she’s hiding something, and my eyes narrow.
“I recognize some of it, what about you, Princess?” Suspicion coats my tongue as I look her over, and she can’t meet my eye.
“It’s nothing, just a faerie tale that my Da used to tell me. We don’t have time for that now. We have to deal with the sorcerers and make sure Myrr is safe. Then we can start puzzling over this prophecy.” I can feel my shoulders sag and her words, and Effie reaches as if to place a hand on my shoulder but hesitates before dropping it. “We will figure this out, I promise,”
“We’ll do it together,” Augustus promises and Effie nods her head. I can’t shake the feeling that the prophecy is trying to tell me something important about what is to come.