3.
Heather
One hour earlier.
“ T here is a small tradition in Eclipsica,” Holly announces, retrieving a long silk ribbon from her satchel. “It is said a faerie of pure intent can make it all the way through the maze by following their heart alone. You’ll be blindfolded, of course.”
“That’s ridiculous. Let’s do it.” I say. I’m not sure if it’s the sugar pulsing through my veins or my eagerness to get away from the conversation with Oak, but I bounce on my heels ready to take part.
“We will also be looking for you,” Holly says, a wicked laugh in her voice. “If you are caught by any of us, you’ll have to start at the beginning.”
“Wait, what?!” I gasp. “Who made up these rules?”
“The courts of Eclipsica, of course,” Holly says. “It was much more dubious in olden times, but has turned into a children’s game since called ‘Marry the King.’ Despite my brother’s disinterest in the crown, I thought it would be a festive way to welcome you. Do you hate it?”
I wish she would stop worrying, there’s nothing that could make tonight less perfect. That being said, I’m so not even going to ask what the old rules are. The more I learn about the quirkiness of the fae courts, the more I wish I could forget. With all the drama, kidnapping, and swordplay, I’m glad I ended up with a group as cozy as this.
“Of course not! I think it’s sweet,” I say. If anyone can face an impossible challenge like this, it’s me. My love for Moth knows no bounds.
“And no one expects you to win,” Ruby says as the blindfold is tightened. “The task is impossible—and all in fun.”
Well, now winning is all I want to do.
“You don’t think I can win?” I whine as Holly spins me in circles. When she is done, I press on toward the maze, only to hear the laughter of the group. Fuck it. Taking a deep breath, I focus on the direction my heart tells me to go. Right, then left, I’m guided by the thought of Moth alone.
Our life together—the promises we’ve made and our lifelong commitment.
“I’m going the wrong way, aren’t I?” I say, as my body smacks into what feels a lot like the leafy wall of the maze. The laughter that roars from my friends is so loud that I jump.
“This won’t take long.” Holly says, gripping my shoulders. With a quick shove I’m thrust in what I hope is the right direction.
“Oh, be kind, Holly! Heather has never been one to underestimate,” Widow pipes up. It is, however, possible that I’ve bought her loyalty with the ungodly amount I’ve spent on dresses at her shop .
My wedding gown included.
Despite the well-earned teasing and laughs at my expense, this is a blast. As a kid, when I watched regency movies that featured hedge mazes, they always seemed so beautiful and romantic, but step by step, I can tell this is way bigger than I could have imagined. They gave me a head start. Considering I’m not the fastest runner, I take full advantage, racing through the maze with my arms straight out in front of me, catching myself on vines and foliage. I’m sure I’m an absolute mess. My perfect yellow dress is torn at the hem, and I can feel a collection of leaves building in my hair. If this keeps up, birds are going to start thinking it’s a nest.
Echoes of conversation and laughter dance through the maze behind me, and it’s not until the sound of my friends has faded that I slip my blindfold off—just a peek to get my bearings. I think I’ve gotten pretty far… if it’s in the right direction or not, well, that has yet to be seen.
The benefit of having wings is if I get lost, I can fly my way out. Though, if this is an old Moth Court tradition, it would be nice to at least try to get it right, even if taking the blindfold off means bending the rules a little.
Footsteps bound behind me, but before I can run, I hear barking. Sprout leaps into my arms, bowling me over with a big sloppy dog-kiss.
“Buddddy, you’re on my team, right?” I ask, fluffing up his fur. “You’re not going to make me start over, hm?”
He arfs again, nuzzling up to me, and motivation sparks inside me. With my stubborn attitude and his nose, we’ve totally got this.
“Anyone on our tail?” I ask as we move through the maze.
“Arf!” he barks with almost a shake of his giant, furry head. God, he could not get any cuter.
“Okay. Do you know how to get out of here?”
He wags his tail, bounding forward, and with a newfound spring in my step, I eagerly follow.
I love having a dog. Casting aside the blindfold, I follow each fluffy step until I’m sure we must be inching close to the exit. Still, my lack of faith in the traditions of the faerie realms made me a little paranoid. I filled my purse with snacks before we officially started. With the start I got, and Oak’s whole thing about time “working differently” here, I’m sure no one would mean to let me get lost for days in here, but you can never be too careful.
I smirk to myself. As if Moth would let that happen. I wonder what he’s doing right now…
A gleaming light appears in front of me, and my heart flutters.
Perfect timing, future husband.
“Mmm, couldn’t stand a single night without me, huh?” I giggle, still fully high on sugar and the adrenaline of running. We’ve had our fair share of fun in the gardens, but never in a hedge maze. I’m eager to add this to the list. “Should I run now to make things interesting?”
Sprout tilts his head, and I cringe. Okay, so maybe now isn’t the best time for a cat-and-mouse game.
“Actually, Sprout is like right here so…” I laugh awkwardly. Also, considering our friends could appear at any time, I’d rather wait until we have the hedge maze to ourselves before we get too spicy. Though, I wouldn’t say no to a make-out session…
A hand extends from within the light, gripping my wrist. It’s pale and smooth with clear pointed nails and a powerful grip. My blood runs cold.
That is not Moth’s usual manicure—or his touch. Sprout growls. His teeth dig into the hem of my dress, pulling me backward as I try to shake off the grip of whoever is holding me.
“Let go!” I shout, but the grip is iron.
“I think we waited long enough,” a strange voice says.
Sprout and I try to pull away, but it’s no use. My dress tears, throwing me forward in a way that’s so sudden, I collide with a firm—yet very unfamiliar—chest. In a millisecond, I manage to reach for Sprout, but am only able to reach the tatters of my hem still gripped in his mouth.
As the stranger and I step through the glowing golden light, a flash of red hair catches my attention.
“Heather,” says a man with pale skin and flowing red hair, “it’s been too long.” A small smile reveals a pair of fangs. With a smirk, he takes the piece of fabric from my hands. “It was good thinking to retrieve this from that hound. You will be harder to track now.”
“Who the hell are you?” I shout as the world around me grows spotty and dark.
The man in front of me freezes, before a deep frown creases on his uncannily pretty face. Somehow, I don’t think that’s the greeting he expected.
“Darling…” he purrs. I stiffen, as the world spins around me. “Is that any way to greet your fiancé?”