Chapter 18
AVELINE
I'm running through the forest in my dreams, laughing to myself.
Something hunts me in the shadows, but in my dream, I know that it can't hurt me.
My feet are bare, and leaves stick to my toes and the soles of my feet.
Mud speckles my ankles and shins, and I hold my dress up in one hand, laughing loudly as the shadow of a wolf lunges out from behind a tree, snapping at me but missing.
A dart of light explodes from my palm, pinning the wolf in place.
I laugh louder, longer, running faster, red hair tangled around my waist as I run, a thick braid flopping over one shoulder.
I run faster and faster—faster than I even knew I could run—until I reach a clearing and flop down stomach-first next to a babbling brook.
Thirsty from all the exertion, I dip my hand in the cool, clear water and drink deeply.
It tastes fresh, cold, and clean. I finally stop, my thirst quenched, and catch a reflection of myself rippling through the water.
My breath catches. The woman with red hair who stares back at me isn't me at all.
I bolt upright in bed.
My heart is hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird, my breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps.
For a long second, I think I feel the damp earth beneath my fingers and the chill of the forest breeze on my skin.
I instinctively glance down at my hands, half-expecting them to be coated in mud, but there is nothing.
Just the soft, clean sheets clutched tightly in my fists.
The room is dark, save for the faint smudge of moonlight filtering through the windowpanes.
I reach up, my trembling fingers brushing against my hair, tracking down the length of it. It’s light blonde.
My hair.
Soft, fine, and entirely distinct from the fiery red mane of the woman in the water.
Who was she?
The laughter from the dream still echoes faintly in my ears, vibrant and fearless, a stark contrast to the cold dread settling deep in my stomach.
The way she wielded that light—the way she ran without a hint of fear toward the very shadows that have kept me on edge ever since I arrived in the Wild Oak Woods.
I swing my legs out from under the covers, the cool air hitting my bare ankles. My heels and toes are still wrapped in the bandages Malakai meticulously placed there, a grounding reminder of the waking world.
I swallow hard.
The boundary between reality and dreams feels incredibly thin tonight.
"Aveline?" a voice murmurs from the darkness near the door.
I startle, pulling the blanket tight around my shoulders as a shape begins to coalesce from the deepest shadows of the room.
"What are you doing in here?" I ask, my voice groggy. I clear my throat and try to wake up.
"This is my castle," Malakai’s voice seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. "Am I not allowed to go where I please?"
"This is my room," I tell him. "In our castle, if you're to be believed." I say it, though it doesn't come out quite as petulant as I would prefer it to, but still thick with sleep.
I rub my eyes, my jaw cracking with a yawn.
I can see a smile breaking across Malakai's face in the darkness. "I was watching over you. You were crying out in your sleep. It's almost dawn. Go back to sleep, Aveline. I'll make sure no harm comes to you."
It shouldn't make me feel better to know that he's been standing there, watching me sleep. Even my sleep-addled brain knows that's not entirely normal behavior. Though what's normal for something like Malakai might be beyond my knowledge.
Another yawn forces my mouth open, and I roll over, pulling the lush fabric of the quilt over my head. "Goodnight, Malakai," I say, mumbling into my pillow.
He doesn't respond.
The next morning, I awaken to the weak fall sunshine and an empty room, except for Ter, who hops from the top of the four-poster bed and walks awkwardly across the linens, leaving bird prints in the plush material where he steps.
"Well, good morning to you," I tell him.
"Malakai told me to keep watch over you. He had an errand in town."
"An errand," I say, not completely awake yet.
“He went to retrieve a pair of horses.”
Oh. A grin spreads across my face, warmth spreading throughout my body at the thought of Malakai leaving his castle so early simply to do something that he thought might make me happy. "I guess I should get dressed then."
"He's going to teach you magic today," Ter says, his head tilted at me, one beady eye watching me as I pull the sheets to the side, revealing my legs and pointing my toes long as I stretch, then patter across the floor to the wardrobe.
"Oh," I say, completely unsurprised. Based on everything Hash and the witches seem to think, learning magic should absolutely be my focus. "Then why is he going to get horses?" I ask Ter, if only to annoy him with the questions.
"Who am I to guess what happens in the Shadow King's mind?" Ter says flippantly. "As for you, if you try to run away again today, then we will have problems."
"Is that right?" I ask, amused as I sit down at my vanity and run one of the tortoiseshell combs through my hair. The wardrobe doors open as I brush, and I hum to myself under my breath as Ter flits through the air and lands atop the mirror I'm gazing into.
"You don't have time to ride your horses," Ter tells me.
I pause my brushing and stare at him for a moment. "Why are you so cranky today?" I ask him. "I've only been here two nights now, and one wasn't even spent at this castle."
"And whose fault was that?" Ter asks, doing that birdie head cock and looking at me with that one beady eye.
I glare at him. He finally turns away to preen his feathers.
"I never blamed anyone for me running away but me, thank you very much," I tell Ter, resuming brushing my hair.
One of the outfits I had made in town yesterday hangs on the back of the armoire door.
"Good choice," I tell the house, watching the reflection of the garments in the wardrobe as I brush my hair.
"You're in a good mood for someone who doesn't have a lot of time to solve the problem," Ter says.
"And you're in a bad mood for a bird who's able to talk," I tell him sharply.
"That was uncalled for," Ter says, preening his wings again.
"It was not. I'm doing the best I can."
"You're not doing anything at all," Ter says grumpily.
"What is it you would have me do?" I ask the bird, my so-called familiar, slamming the brush down on the vanity top. The little jars of balms and perfumes rattle on their etched silver platters.
"You must learn to use and control your magic," Ter says, not backing down one iota.
"Is there something about me brushing my hair right now that makes you think that I'm not willing to learn?" I say, arching an eyebrow. "Or am I not allowed basic personal hygiene according to his greatness, the raven?"
Ter makes a choked sound of indignation and clicks his beak in annoyance. "Hmm."
"Well," I repeat, "am I allowed to brush my hair and get dressed, or should I go downstairs naked?"
"You are not naked," Ter says. "You are wearing your nightclothes."
It's my turn to harrumph, because he's not wrong about that. "You and I both know this would be an inappropriate outfit to wear outside of this chamber."
"And what I know and you don't know," Ter says, "is that the sooner you're wearing that outfit around Malakai, the safer you and the Wild Oak Woods will be."
I gasp, dismayed by his uncouth words.
"You don't have time for social norms," Ter says. "You are running out of time to make things right before the Seelie and Unseelie unleash the wild magic. Do you understand the danger you're in?"
"If you don't remember, I was the one who was chased through the forest by that creature," I retort.
Suddenly, brushing my hair no longer sounds appealing, and I stand up so quickly I knock the little padded stool over. The house rights it almost immediately, and I, slightly ashamed of my behavior, walk to the bathroom so that I can splash some water on my face and brush my teeth.
"Today is for learning magic, then," I say to Ter. "Am I wrong?"
"You're not wrong. All I am asking is that you be careful, and that you listen to your heart when it comes to Malakai."
That surprises me a little, and I stare at the bird for a long moment before I finally retrace my steps into the room and tug on the soft pants, overdress, and cloak the wardrobe selected for me.
The practical clothes are a godsend. The soft pants allow for actual movement, a stark contrast to the restrictive, heavy gowns I’m accustomed to, and the deep forest-green cloak feels like a protective shield against the world outside.
I lace up the sturdy new boots, marveling at how well they fit my still-tender feet.
Ter watches me from the top of the mirror, his silence heavier than his critiques. “He left you something, you know. I’m surprised you didn’t see it right away.” He gives a little hop, then flutters down to the vanity.
I peer at where he’s pecking, and sure enough, there’s an old-fashioned brass and velvet box tucked in with the cosmetics. It’s heavier than I thought it would be, and I frown at the weight.
Not brass, I realize.
Gold.
“It’s a lovely box,” I say.
“Open it, idiot,” Ter crows.
I glare at him for a split second before curiosity gets the best of me and I do as he bids.
A crown is nestled among black satin, the likes of which I’ve never seen. Gold wrought to look like the rays of the sun, or a star, perhaps, with sparkling blue gems encrusted along each ray.
“It’s for you. When you decide to seal the bond.”
I snap the box closed, my heartbeat quickening.
I’m not ready for that. I’m not.
Not even if… I was thinking about it last night. What it would be like, to have him in my room with me.
In my bed with me, the way the maids back in Stormspire would giggle behind their hands about.
"Are you coming or are you going to pout up there all day?" I ask Ter, throwing the hood of the cloak back over my shoulders.
The raven lets out a sharp caw and launches into the air, circling once before landing squarely on my shoulder. His talons are careful this time, barely gripping the thick wool of my cloak.
"Someone has to make sure you don't run away again," he mutters.