Chapter Twenty #3
The monster was roughly lion-shaped, but enormous, its slitted eyes as big as Lyssa’s head.
When it opened its mouth to roar, she saw fangs as long as daggers, in addition to the pair of sharp tusks protruding from its upper jaw on either side of its snout, curved outward as if for goring.
Each of its four massive paws was equipped with a set of wicked claws, and its spiked tail whipped back and forth behind it, clanging against the bars of its cage.
Strangest of all, there was a symbol on its chest that glowed blue through its shaggy white fur, so bright it was hard to look at for long.
“We don’t have all night, folks!” the man in the stripes called. “Who’s first?”
Frightened murmurs rippled through the crowd. No one rose to the challenge.
Lyssa swallowed her fear and shoved the bucket of popcorn into Eddie’s hands, stepping forward. “I’ll do it.”
“Lyssa, no!” Eddie hissed, but the man in the stripes beamed.
“This little girl puts the rest of you to shame! Here you go, sweetling.” He shoved the spear into her hands.
She faced the cage, tightening her grip on the rough wooden shaft.
“All right, now, just stick the spear through the bars and see if you can hurt it,” the man in the stripes told her. “Aim for that mark over its heart.”
The Beast snarled, its eyes glowing in the reflection of that symbol on its chest. It threw itself against its cage—once, twice, three times. The whole thing shook as the monster battered the bars with its massive weight.
Lyssa hesitated, adrenaline numbing her tongue and making her shiver.
“Let’s go,” Eddie said, but she wrenched away from him when he grabbed her arm.
“I can do it,” she insisted.
The creature threw itself against the bars again, and there was a crunch as something gave way.
The crowd seemed to draw in a collective breath as one whole side of the cage teetered and fell with a metallic screech and a clang that reverberated in Lyssa’s bones.
The Beast stumbled out into the crowd, shaking itself. Still the people stood transfixed, like rabbits frozen by a wolf’s stare.
And then the monster attacked the man in the stripes. Bit his head clean off, right in front of Lyssa. Blood spattered her face as the crowd began to scream, began to flee. But they were all packed in so tightly around the cage, and the Beast was right there, and …
“It was a massacre,” Lyssa told Alderic and her father, closing her eyes, the smell of popcorn coming back to her so violently in her memory that she gagged.
“Eddie tried to protect me. He shoved me out of the way, out of the Beast’s path.
” Her teeth were chattering as she spoke, now, and she looked up to see a tear roll down Alderic’s cheek.
“It killed him, instead of me, with one swipe of those claws. Killed dozens of other people, too, before running off into the Hagswood.”
Her father was crying, and it was an effort for Lyssa to hold back her own tears. She clenched her teeth and watched him wipe his eyes with the back of a trembling hand.
“Why was it there?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “At a fucking circus, for the Lady’s sake?”
“Nobody knows,” Lyssa told him. “The circus denied responsibility, claiming that the man in the stripes was not associated with them in any way.” Lyssa had searched obsessively for information about him, and had come up empty.
If he hadn’t died along with everyone else, she would have thought he was a faerie, one somehow resistant to Warham’s iron.
It was possible he was some vagrant the faeries had tricked into helping them, as expendable as any human. She would likely never know.
Her father took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “I told Eddie to look after you, until I got back. He swore on his life he’d keep you safe. He … he always did keep his promises, didn’t he?”
“He did.” A few tears escaped down Lyssa’s cheeks, and she knuckled them away quickly. “And I will keep mine,” she told him. “I will kill it. I will avenge him.”
“I have no doubt about that,” her father replied, a touch of pride in his voice. “I look forward to reading about it in the paper.”
He stared at her for another moment, as if she were someone completely foreign to him, and then, without another word, he stood up. Settled his crutches into his armpits, nodded to her and then to Alderic, and hobbled out the door.
He had gotten what he wanted—the truth—and had given her what she needed.
They had no more use for each other.
Lyssa let out a long breath when the door snicked shut behind him. Let herself glance at the photograph of her family for only a moment before tucking it into her pack. Her teeth were still chattering. “I can’t believe that worked.”
Alderic squeezed her shoulder. “I find that—generally speaking—a nice conversation yields better results than stabbing someone.”
His voice was unbearably gentle, and when she looked up at him, she was overcome with emotion.
He knew, now. That her brother had died because of her.
That it was her fault they were there that night, her fault they were standing right in front of the cage when the monster escaped.
He knew the horrible truth, and the fact that his expression was soft with understanding in the face of this revelation shifted something irreversibly within her.
For once in her life, she didn’t feel the urge to push someone away for daring to get too close to her. Instead, she reached out and laced her fingers through Alderic’s.
“Are you okay?” Alderic asked Lyssa gently as they left the Kingmaker and headed toward Buxton Fields Memorial Park.
“No,” she said. “But I don’t have the luxury of breaking down. We still need to get a personal concern from you before we can forge the sword, and we’re running out of time.” They were so close that the thought of it sent a spark of excitement and anxiety through her.
“I already have my personal concern,” Alderic said; his tone was casual but his smile was forced.
She stopped walking. Frowned at him. “Really?”
“Yes. I … I thought about what you said, in the crypt, and I realized that you were right. Any item I choose will work, so long as it holds the appropriate emotional associations.”
Lyssa crossed her arms. “Oh, so Brandy’s collar wasn’t good enough, but you can use whatever you want?” He gave her a look and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. What did you choose, then?”
“Something that makes me happy.” He blushed furiously, which only piqued her curiosity even more.
“What is it?” she asked. “When did you collect it?”
He lifted his chin. “None of your business.”
She scowled, understanding now why people got so annoyed when she said those words.
But she refused to let him use her own tactics against her.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said. “You don’t get to do that.
I need to make sure it’s something we can actually use,” she lied, holding out her hand. “There are rules.”
Alderic didn’t question that at all. He merely sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out …
“A leaf?” Lyssa demanded. “Why a leaf?”
He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “It was in your hair, at the cemetery. After Honoria stabbed you.”
She blinked at him. “Me bleeding out made you happy?”
“Of course not.” He looked at her, finally. “It was … what you said, right before.”
“What did I say?” She still couldn’t remember some of the finer details.
“That I’m your friend.” He pressed the leaf into her outstretched palm, and she stared down at it. He was saying something to her, something she couldn’t hear over the beat of blood in her ears, the sudden ache in her heart.
“Lyssa?” he said, brows drawing together, and the sound of her name on his lips jolted her out of it. She put the leaf in her pack, next to the photograph, and then she stared at him until he looked uncomfortable.
“What?” he demanded.
She shook herself free of the thoughts that were forming in her head. It was all tangled, a mess of feelings and what-ifs that she wasn’t ready to voice aloud. “Nothing. I’m … I’m just glad you have something we can use. That means we can go straight back to Ragnhild’s and start forging the sword.”
They walked the rest of the way to the memorial park in silence, Alderic glancing at her with obvious concern every few minutes.
When they got to the back wall of the park where it was easiest to draw a Door, she turned to face him. She had to be sure, before she made a fool of herself.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he said.
“When you dove into the lake to save Brandy from the mermaids … did you only do it because you knew you couldn’t die?
” It was something that had been needling the back of her mind.
Something that had disappointed her—maybe because if she had to pinpoint the moment she began to love Alderic, it would be that one.
“I did it because he’s important to you,” Alderic replied, seeming taken aback by the question. “My immortality didn’t really cross my mind, in that moment. All that mattered to me was saving your friend.”
“And when you got yourself turned into a pincushion at Liedensham Cemetery?”
“All that mattered to me then was saving my friend.” His brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you asking me this?”
She shifted her weight from foot to foot, mustering the courage to say what she was thinking out loud. “Your curse,” she said slowly.
His face grew wary. “What about it?”
“What if … what if I could break it?”
He went still, opening and closing his mouth as if he had no idea how to respond.
She said in a rush, suddenly self-conscious, “I trust you more than I’ve trusted anyone in a long time.
I killed for you, without hesitation, and I would do it again.
I want to see your stupid face and your ridiculous outfits every single day until I die.
And you … you make me want to be a better person, Alderic.
I don’t know what else that could be except—”
“Don’t,” he said quietly, his eyes filled with pain. “Please don’t say it. You…” He struggled with the words. “You, of all people, cannot break the curse.”
“What does that mean?” she said, and then flushed as she realized what he was getting at.
“Oh. The curse. You … you have to love them back in equal measure, I guess, don’t you?
” She shook her head, suddenly wishing she were anywhere but in this park with him.
“I thought … the leaf … Ungharad’s flaming sword,” she groaned. “I’m an idiot. Forget I said anything.”
“You misunderstand me,” Alderic said softly.
“You are infuriating and boorish and your penchant for violence is downright criminal, and yet…” His hands clenched into fists and he took a steadying breath, as if what he was about to say was difficult for him to admit.
“And yet I care more about you than I have ever cared about anyone in my entire life.”
The air suddenly seemed much more difficult to breathe. Lyssa gaped at him. “You do?”
“Yes,” Alderic said, and her pulse beat an uneven staccato in her throat.
“Your loyalty to those lucky enough to be considered your friends was enough to make me want to be counted among them. But your willingness to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves, the fact that you are unapologetically you no matter what anyone thinks of you, the tender heart hidden beneath your layers of iron and steel … those things made me truly love you.”
The ache of affection within her was followed swiftly by confusion. “If that’s how you feel, then why can’t I break your curse?”
“Because no matter what you might think you feel for me in this moment, there is no way you could continue feeling it, if you truly knew me.”
“How can you say that?” she demanded, frustrated that he could even think she didn’t truly know him, after everything they had been through together.
That he could think there was anything that would change her mind, after he had proven time and again that he was not the entitled rich asshole she’d assumed he was, when she’d first gotten his letters.
“You saved my life, Alderic. Twice. You saved my dog’s life, too.
And you are somehow the kindest, most selfless person I have ever known, despite having enough money to fill a lake and swim around in it. What could possibly scare me off now?”
“Lyssa…” There was a war going on inside of him; she could see it on his face.
Finally, his jaw set, and he started unbuttoning his shirt with trembling fingers.
“Remember when I told you that no matter how much someone seemed to love me, there was always a moment when my true self came out, and everything fell apart?”
An inexplicable sense of dread crawled through her. “Are you going to tell me you have scales under there, or something?” she asked, her voice breathless with fear.
He opened his shirt, revealing his muscled chest.
There, carved into his flesh, was the glyph of the Beast.