10.
Moth
“ T here are pieces of truth mixed in with what you might know,” Mother begins. “I was indeed kidnapped, but not from one of the other courts or a noble household of this world. When I was young, it was not uncommon for faeries to steal away into the mortal realm. Mostly for some trickery—whether cruel or comical, it depended on the level of boredom.”
“But you met father at a ball…” Holly says quizzically. She has clearly already decided this is all some kind of shared delusion. Mother stares off as if entranced by memories, walking toward the window, the steps of a waltz echo on her heels.
“In a place called London, my sisters and I were so excited to spend the social season among the affluent. We were well-off, but Mother raised us in an estate in the countryside, among flowers and trees. She always said the city was no place for a child—but women in need of a suitor? Well, that was when things changed. I was terrified but excited all the same. I loved the simplicity of the life I lived, but had little desire to climb the social ladder. All the same, I wanted to find love—real love. Meanwhile, your father craved amusement while visiting the mortal realm. He was bored of bars and brothels, and his beauty was enough for him to gain entrance to high society. Our eyes met, and he decided that I would be his queen.”
A mortal…
This is a part of the story I hadn’t anticipated. Perhaps this is why she took Heather under her costumed-wings.
Mother turns to both of us before I can begin to process this new information.
“Each day, he visited with a flower—a promise. As he saw it, I had no choice but to love him, to need him. But I was not a Cinderella looking for an escape from the life I had before. I was loved by friends, family, and my sisters. Affection for your father did not happen overnight.” She blows out a sigh, tracing her fingers over the ornate floral carvings of the portal.
“I do not understand,” Holly says. “You two always made it sound like something from a storybook.”
Mother blinks in response, nodding sharply and sucking in her breath before regaining the posture of a queen. How long has she been forced to push down her feelings to serve her people? She does not answer Holly—instead her eyes lock on mine.
“You are familiar with the gifts you share with your father?” Mother asks, and though it is a question, it feels more like an accusation.
“Yes.” A dark feeling echoes through my chest as I wonder how this will relate to Mother’s tragedy. There is knowing in her eyes that once her secrets are told they cannot be unlearned and with that comes hesitation. Her thin hand grips Holly’s before she speaks again.
“The first time I tried to flee, I was mended by him using those powers.” Her voice is hollow and further away with every passing moment. “I awoke in darkness, reborn as one of the Moth Court, just like our dear Heather.”
“First attempt?” Holly pales. “You tried to escape more than once?” My sister studies Mother, who only nods in response.
“You had wings?” she asks, though it sounds more like an accusation than a question. Mother gives another stiff nod in response. “You mean to tell us Father gave you the power of flight and then—”
Mother clears her throat.
“He said the wings were damaged beyond repair. I imagine they were in a state similar to yours, my son, when Heather cured your wounds the mortal way.” Mother stares at me and there is a deep knowing, that if someone like my flame had been there to tend to her, things may have turned out differently.
“So, they could have—he could have—” Holly stares at Mother, her crystal blue eyes glassy.
“What was given was taken.” She clasps her hands together. “We can assume they could have been patched the mortal way—but there is no way to know. There is a reason you never see me flutter around the gardens. If it helps, I had them for so little, I do not miss the feeling.”
The scars on her back have not healed well, as if the focus had been on removing them quickly rather than care. I have no doubt this act was done in anger. From what I can remember of the man it seems, to borrow a term from my flame, “very on brand for him.” If Mother had not killed my father, I would do it myself. I can bear the pain he caused me—but to do this to his wife…
“And you have not used the aid of magic?” I ask. It is a surprise considering she is the one who provided the glamour I now use in the mortal realm.
“Ah.” She moves across her chambers, picking up a necklace. When she puts it on, it gives the same effect as her costume, but her fingers pass through the wings, breaking the illusion with a sparkle. “It is not effective by itself. At a large function, I wear both.”
“This is not what you told Heather,” I say, reeling with these new pieces of information. Heather only learned that Mother was kidnapped…
“ Heather knows of this?” Holly whirls, more hurt than angry. Mother only nods, letting silence fill the room for a moment. To my surprise, my sister does not press the issue.
“She learned more than most, my love. When you are queen, you must take time to determine who you can trust. After Atlas’s betrayal, I have been more careful.” She runs the pad of her thumb across Holly’s cheek.
I grit my teeth at the memories that have resurfaced about Uncle Atlas. There are days I fear I conspired with him. I was too young to rule and needed a way out. Perhaps I asked him to send me to the mortal realm—perhaps my memories were taken to ease my guilt. The facts remain; I was cast out by my uncle, and as a result he took the throne until his disappearance.
“You two really were friends with Uncle Atlas,” Holly says, drawing in a deep breath.
“The best of friends.” She smiles bitterly. “He was my confidant. While I dealt with your father’s tantrums, Atlas would be a shoulder to lean on, always keen to distract me or listen to my stories. He was fascinated with the mortal realm—”
“He was the one who gave you the portal then?” Holly concludes. “I always wondered.”
“Yes.” Mother’s smile is bitter. “We found it poetic to put it in the tower, a gateway to freedom in the place that was my cell.”
“Why not just go back?” I ask. Given she had access to a portal, the most logical solution would be to return to the mortal realm.
“Ah, by the time he gifted me the portal, my family was long gone. And I had you—nothing to return to and every reason to stay.” She smiles brightly, holding both mine and Holly’s hands, losing the formality in her tone and her tactical smile—her words are true.
“This whole time, you… you never told us,” Holly says, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.
“No, no I did not.” She frowns. “I planned to—perhaps one day when the time was right. Before you took the throne or, well, I’m not sure.”
“When could it ever be right to learn something like this?” Holly gasps, shaking her head. “Oh, Mother—” she cries, and I brace myself for an angry outburst.
Instead, she wraps herself in Mother’s arms, squeezing her tight. “I am so sorry—”
“Do not worry, my darling. I received two treasures worth any hardship,” she says, opening her arms so that I can join their embrace.
“And she poisoned him,” I add.
“Moth!” Mother scolds me as if I’m a child who said his first swear word. And something in her tone puts a smile on my face. After all that we’ve been through—secrets revealed, names changed, and being a world away—she is still my mother . The patient face that shines through my lost memories.
“Oh, good.” Holly sighs, squeezing the two of us tighter. “It will take time to unravel the idea I have of him, but knowing there was an act of retribution helps.”
“The truth is complicated,” Mother admits. “There were moments it was… he was—” She shakes her head and sighs. “But perhaps that was just my mind helping me to survive. One thing is certain: we must rescue Heather.”
Holly pales, nodding vigorously.
“I am sorry for my outburst, brother,” she says. “I should not have made light of the situation. Perhaps I thought that this would all be less maddening if she had planned it herself. I have seen how much love she has for you. Even King Magnus would not be able to change that.”
“It is forgiven.”
“Are we very much like Father?” Holly asks, her gaze tipping up at the family portrait.
I freeze in anticipation of a less than favorable answer. The resemblance between us is so striking that I cannot look for long.
“No, my darlings, you are uniquely you.” Mother squeezes us tighter before straightening. She taps my chin with the tip of her claw. “Wonderfully and uniquely you.” Sprout nudges my leg, pushing the three of us together to share one more embrace. I gather myself with a deep breath.
“And you are lovely,” she whispers, and tears I did not realize had formed roll down my cheek.
It has been hours since the conversation with Mother, yet as my claws trace along the keys of the old piano, I hear not a sound. My thoughts turn from fear, to rage, to sorrow in the absence of my Heather. Then there is the fury of learning the truth of what happened between my Mother and Father. The same fate will not befall the darling sweet human who put color back into my world of black and grey.
The gall this vampire king has to take her for a bride… Furious, I focus on the keys of the piano. It is my first time alone since all of this begun, and I allow my mind to wander.
When was the last time we were here together? It was months after our first time in Eclipsica. Mother had decided to throw another one of her parties. I was going to decline, but Heather had just bought a new dress and was eager to show it off for more than just myself and Sprout.
I couldn’t blame her. The color was a sky blue in a soft tulle, and when she danced, the dress seemed to dance with her, swaying with the curves of her body. The sight of her smile alone was enough to make me ache.
But that dress …
The cyan-sheened fabric hung off her shoulders like cascading water…
Even in my memory, the decadence of her presence tempts me. As my fingers stroke the keys, I let my thoughts drift away. Though my hands still move across the keys, I think not of the notes, only of her.
The lilac scented breeze blew through the room, ruffling her hair, sending tiny strands across her face. Positioning herself so that her body leaned back against mine, I wrapped my arms and wings around her like a cocoon.
“Do you know how to play any other instruments?” my flame asked, a coy smile on her pink-tinted lips that begged to be tasted.
“No, I do not believe I learned anything beyond this.”
“You’re full of secrets.”
“The only things I am keeping from you are the things I myself cannot recall.”
“What a good excuse to live in the moment then, huh?” she said, her hand sliding across my thigh. “Let’s make some new memories.”
With a few skillful movements of her hands, the laces of my trousers loosened. I would be glad to be free of the whole garment, but I waited patiently while my flame dropped down to her knees, leaving me to straddle the piano bench.
“Keep playing,” she ordered with a wicked smile. And I obeyed. How could I not when her voice sounded like honey? Though, the music of her moans would be the sweetest I could think of.
Turning my attention to the sheet music, I focused on the notes, the movement of her hands, then her lips across my skin. Pleasure and tension built up in my body, and though my fingers stroked the keys, the real conductor was beneath the piano. My flame slid her hand between my—
I slam my hands down on the keys as footsteps ring out behind me.
“Hey bud, how you holding up?” Rosie asks, the scent of herbal tea heavy in the air, suggesting she has brought me a cup. I cannot bare it; closing my eyes tight, I continue to play. I meant to return the mortals—I truly did. But the pair insisted on staying, and I cannot lie: they have been an unexpected comfort.
The cup is placed on the ledge, and whether it is the honey in her voice or the drink that brings me back to the moment, I do not know.
“Do not patronize me.” I groan. Anything could have happened in a day’s time. Two years ago, I watched Heather’s life fade by way of a bullet that was meant for me in only a few moment’s time. “How long have you all been here?”
“Long enough,” Rosie replies. I am sure that they could see the haze in my eyes and blush to my cheeks while I sat here, lamenting. I decide it might be best to not ask anyone leading questions. It seems Holly, Oak, and Rosie have all been watching me daydream at the piano, and I am thankful that the memories that surfaced did not last long enough for me to do anything foolish…
But my desire for Heather is unfathomable, and the fear that I will not be there in time to save her is too horrible to conceive of. My patience has bounds and waiting for diplomacy has pushed them too far.
I’ll never forget the horror of seeing the light in her eyes flicker into something unfocused and far away. I acted before it was too late, and now my flame shares the power and burden of my abilities. But what if I had not found her in time?
A world without my flame is too miserable to bear.
“I’m not trying to downplay this. It’s just… I don’t know, Holly told us this kind of thing happens here. It seems like everyone is making progress. Plus, there’s no way Heather would marry anyone else.”
“I have been corrected,” Holly grumbles. With a glance toward to the family portrait, she grimaces before tossing one of her knives directly into the painted face of our father. “The danger is not to be underestimated.”
“Oookay.” Rosie nods. “Then remind me exactly why we aren’t all freaking out ?” There’s an edge to her voice now.
“I think we covered that earlier, didn’t we?” Oak says casually, wringing his neck from his place on the chaise lounge “What stage of grief are we currently in—shall I get my armor?”
I shoot him an undeserved glare. I should never have lashed out at him.
“Heather has helped me overcome my monsters,” I say quietly. “It pains me that whatever she is facing, she is doing it alone.”
“Moth…” Rosie’s voice is quiet. The scent of the tea she brought wafts toward me from its place on the ledge of the piano. I draw in a deep breath, muttering an apology to her and Oak.
As far as my memory serves, I have never been good at friendship. Still, I accept her drink and kindness. The text Heather sent said she was safe.
I will just have to trust in that until we have a lead. If we are to rescue Heather, we will need some sort of plan that involves more than rumor-hunting and diplomacy. My wings itch to fly straight for where she’s hidden, and my claws tremble to feel King Magnus’s flesh turned to ribbons in my grasp. My hands slam down on the keys before pushing myself away from the piano bench.
“Let’s just try to distract ourselves then, hm? It worked for you earlier at Ruby and Pepper’s house, right?” Rosie says slowly. “Oh, I know! How is the manuscript going?”
My writing? I let my jaw go slack. That is what she wishes to talk about now?
“It is of no concern at this moment,” I say, burying my head in my hands. Before all of this, the writing had been an easy distraction when I could not sleep at night. I did not anticipate finishing it. Or to “query” it for publication, something Heather has encouraged me to try. She says it’s “too good to sit in a notebook forever,” and I will not deny there is some part of me that craves to be known—not a blurry photograph but in a way I can choose.
“Oh, come now, brother! Indulge us if not a little bit,” Holly says encouragingly. I suppose I can update them, though it may not be the uplifting shift in conversation the group is hoping for.
“It has gone well,” I begin. “The e-mail replies however have noted I have archaic prose and a genre-crossing plot.” The rejections are of no consequence, though I do not think it is good conversation.
“It will find a home,” Rosie says, though the deep frown on her usually smiley face is … telling.
“Of that I have no doubt.”
“It’s not like a creative to be so sure of themselves,” she says, nervously tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear.
“I found one—a home I mean.” I shrug, closing my eyes and thinking of the life I built with Heather. “So there is hope for it yet. Even if it does not amount to publication, it is an outlet. My former life in Eclipsica is hazy at best.”
Holly’s frown deepens; I should have chosen my words more carefully. My absence has caused her hardship, and I do not mean to add more melancholy to the already dreary mood.
“That must be hard,” my mortal friend says gently. I nod, unwilling to say anything further.
The hardest part is being unable to design a new creative thought with a memory. Some days, I think I might have wanted to be sent to the mortal realm to avoid being king.
Other days, I’m sure I was trapped there.
Mostly, I do not think any of it matters.
So, I use it for fodder for a fictional man who carries my flaws through a world of romance I try not to mirror too closely to my own. Though writing out a very detailed scene involving the murder of a vampire king may be a cathartic solution in the midst of all this waiting.
“Rosie, you should have let him keep playing the piano.” Oak sighs.
“This is … worse somehow,” Holly agrees.
Ah—I am back to pacing. For how long now, I am not sure.
“Heather has been stolen away,” I growl through gritted fangs. “How is it you expect me to act?”
“By leaping into action and ripping someone’s throat out, naturally …” Oak says, rubbing his neck. I open my mouth to apologize once more, but Oak waves my bad behavior away. “We all understand. The wait has been torturous and, in our own ways, we will fight at your side.”
“Patience has never been a virtue I have readily had in my possession,” I say, lowering myself into one of the gilded parlor chairs.
“We just need to figure out which throat to rip out,” Rosie says, giving me a hearty pat on the shoulder. The cheerful tone combined with the grotesque suggestion would be comical if this all wasn’t so dire.
I knew being with me would have dangers. I worried about my form, my claws, and the bite of my fangs. What I did not give enough thought to was the worlds around us, and the way the people in them would pull us apart.
I had hoped the human hunter would have been our first and only foe.
Clara sprints into the room, waving her hands in a wild motion.
“The lavatory is down the hal—” Oak begins, but she shoves him out of the way. I realize she’s holding a small glowing object in her hands.
Her cellphone. It’s shoved into my palm before I can fully grasp Clara’s sudden reappearance. She had wandered out for fresh air, and her phone must have found a signal. Still, this is unexpected. It must be her. There is no other reason why Clara would have burst into the room in such a way, but as I raise the device to my ear, doubt creeps through me.
“My flame?” It is a question, a prayer, and a plea all in one.
“Moth!!” Heather’s voice wraps around me with the comfort of a cloak. Despite languishing by the piano for hours, no sound has ever sounded more like music to my ears than my name from her lips.
“Heather!” I stand so quickly the chair topples. “Where are you—I will—”
“It’s okay! I’m okay! Well. you know, as okay as I can be,” Her voice crackles. “I’m biding my time. Basically, there was a … misunderstanding .”
“A what?”
What kind of misunderstanding would cause a kidnapping?
“Okay, so like, basically… Magnus thought I agreed to marry him at that ball we went to in Eclipsica. It’s a whole big thing, and now I’m trying to set him up with someone else. So, we made his dating profiles earlier, and I was able to get my phone back and—”
“You are … trying to do what ?” My claws extend, and I swallow hard in an attempt to keep myself calm. Magnus.
She’s calling him by his first name.
“Babe, he’s literally so pathetic,” she whines. I can almost see the way her full lips pout at the words. How I wish I could kiss her, to feel the softness of her skin, and stop this ridiculous plan all at one. But she continues all the same.
“He’s fixated on me because I helped him at the ball when he was cornered by those awful butterfly twins.”
“My flame, you have been … making an internet online dating profile for your kidnapper?”
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds silly,” she says, and I can just picture her crossing her arms.
She cannot be serious.
“Have you considered, my flame, that that is, in fact, because it is silly?” I ask, using my free hand to rub my temple.
“No?” she says after a long pause, and despite myself, I chuckle. She is ridiculous, but she is mine. “Yes! Yes, okay? But all the portals are warded and… look! I finally got my phone and I’ve been—are you laughing right now?”
I should not be, but I cannot help it.
The tension I was feeling breaks as a deep chuckle rumbles through me. She is alright, and the sound of her voice swirls around me like smoke lingering on skin after sitting by a bonfire.
“You are alright,” I breathe. When I close my eyes, I picture the way she looks with her dark eyes creased in a smile.
“I’m alright,” she whispers back, and I imagine her leaning forward so that our foreheads touch, soft and tender.
“You are alright,” I repeat, shaking my head. “Here I have been worried about finding you in mortal peril, and you are playing matchmaker for your captor.”
“Yes, babe, I’m safe, I’m okay, and I think this plan is going to–”
“Fail,” I cut her off. The cold graveness of the situation brings me back to the moment.
“What? No!” She gasps. “I finally got the pictures we need for his profile. At this point, all we need to do is get swiping, and we should have Magnus enthralled with someone else by the end of the day. If he takes his dates to this gorgeous place, any mortal will be dazzled—if they can accept the whole vampire—”
“It is destined to fail,” I interrupt again, trying to mind my tone. She clearly believes this will work, but there is a fatal flaw she’s not considering.
“Wait, why? I am being so detailed and—”
“Because there is no one who would not fall in love with you. You cannot sway him, Heather. Besides, I do not believe his affections to be true.”
“But there’s only one person I could ever love.” She sighs and I wish I could hold her in my arms. “I’m trying to get back to you. If Holly knows how to disenchant portals, put her on the phone. Magnus seems like the only one that can use them, and right now, we’re in the Dragonfly Court. I only have a few minutes before he comes looking for me.”
“Where in the Dragonfly Court?” I ask, too afraid to hit the speaker button for risk of accidentally ending the call.
“Um, a restaurant. I don’t know what it’s called. It’s on the water with lily pads as the tables. Does that ring any bells?”
Of course it does not.
“Holly will know of it, I am sure,” I exhale, trying to be optimistic. “Do not think your plan will convince me to stop looking.”
“Oh my God, please don’t.” She sighs. “Just because I don’t think Magnus is dangerous doesn’t mean I don’t want to get home, just don’t—”
“Heather,” I warn, “do not ask me to spare the man who took you from me.”
“I mean, rough him up, obviously. You have my full permission to avenge, just don’t full-on murder him.” She laughs, and I wish I could see her smile, though none of this seems amusing.
“He will not be able to recognize his own face.”
“That might be a fate worse than death, to be honest.”
“Good. I love you, my foolish little flame…”
“I love yo—”
I barely hear her response before Holly springs up, taking the phone from my hands. It drags me back to the present moment. I am in a room filled with a people who have been staring, listening to my every word.
“Heather! This is important. You are helping him with a … task?” Holly presses her mouth against the phone’s speaker.
“Did you make any promises? Agreements?” she shouts, but the call has ended, and our chance to get further details with it.
Do we have enough breadcrumbs to lead us back to her location? Across from me, the room has erupted into conversations about diplomacy and negotiation. I overhear words like territories and allies. I barely register them, holding myself back from lunging into the nearest portal alone. Without Heather here as the angel on my shoulder, my restraint doesn’t last long.
“Where are you going?” Holly asks.
Without realizing it, my body has transformed. With large strides, I walk toward the doorway. “To get her back.”
All the thoughts. All the thoughts swirling around—with the noises of so many people talking at once—has me on edge. She would know what to do. Yet, she is the only one who isn’t here. After being alone for so long, it is a funny feeling. I have only half of a heart; she holds the other. I will not rest again until I see her smile.
“Then let’s go—together,” Rosie says, straightening up.
“Together?” I quirk an eyebrow, while Oak and Holly shoot disapproving looks at her. The humans may have insisted on staying here and helping, but besides the needed mortal support, I do not see the value of placing them in danger.
“No, no, I will go—as will Pepper, who will serve as Mother’s right hand,” Holly says, leaving little room for argument. “ You , Clara, and Oak will all remain at the castle.”
Rosie crosses her arms, not willing to back down so easily.
“Heather’s one of our best friends. The first time she was kidnapped, I couldn’t do anything. I didn’t even know what was happening…”
“And what will you do if there is a fight?” Holly pipes up. “Bake cookies at our attacker.”
“Hey!” Clara says. “ I’m the one who bakes cookies. Rosie is also good at baking, and honestly everything, but she’s also—”
Rosie plucks a knife from Holly’s arsenal and tosses it. It plunges into the apple at the very top of a pile in a decorative bowl clear across the room.
“—really good at throwing shit.” Clara chuckles, sidling up to her wife and giving her a kiss. “Have fun, hon.”