Chapter Eleven #2
“Consider it a gift,” she says. She shakes it, and Dante reaches out and takes it. “From what I can tell, those are all things that should be useful to you.”
“Thank you,” he says. He does not open the pouch and look inside, and she does not ask him to. She smiles as he pushes it into his pocket. “The sun’s almost up. Are we ready to go?”
Grant flits over to his side. “Ready when you are. Do we know where we’re going?”
The witch chuckles. “You’ll find the path.” Her gaze flicks to me. “Good luck, Your Highness.”
I incline my head in response. I should thank her for giving my power back to me, but I do not feel generous. I have been trapped here—by my own machinations, perhaps, but I am trapped all the same.
She does not see us to the door. She bustles off into her workroom again and Grant raises his eyebrows at us, pressing his lips together.
Dante interprets the look. “Time to go.”
We leave the cottage, and I feel the tug of the witch’s magic that will lead us toward the path we need to take. Dante and Grant do not argue as I begin walking; they simply drop into step behind me, as they did on the way here.
Perhaps that is for the best. As the suns rise, the plants unfurl and awaken and react to my power. Magic ripples through them as they do their best to greet me, welcome me home. Even the witch’s plants recognise a royal fae.
Grant does not appear to notice at all, but Dante stumbles a step and glances around suspiciously. “Is… something here?”
“Nothing to worry about.” I tug my power closer, trying to curl it up inside me.
It pushes back against my hold, but after a moment, it settles, and I draw in a deep breath.
I need better control than this. The court is always searching for vulnerability.
Of course they will know that I have not had my powers for a while, but I cannot let them know that I may no longer possess my once finely honed control.
We are walking for perhaps half an hour before the trees begin to thin. Grant makes a surprised sound and appears by my side. “That’s not right.”
“What do you mean?”
“We walked this way last night. It was all trees. Where did this come from?”
“The witch deals in space as well as everything else,” I say. “Her path is a direct route to the court.”
“Oh. Oh!” Grant grins up at me. “Yeah, I get it. Asher said the twins could do that too, right?”
“The twins?” I ask.
“The ones who were after Quinn,” Dante says, catching up. “High fae.”
Ah, yes. I was not privy to the details of that at the time, although I understand that they are dead now. I nod and Dante makes a satisfied sound.
“What are we supposed to do when we get there?” Grant asks. “The court, I mean. Are we just rocking up and asking for Ophelia?”
Dante sighs. “No, that won’t work.”
“It will not,” I agree. “At least, not for the two of you. I suspect they will allow me to see her fairly soon after our arrival.”
“You think?” Grant frowns at me.
“They believe she is my soulbond. They will wish to prove she has not been harmed.”
“You’re sure?” Dante asks. Tension and relief war in his voice.
“Provided she has not done anyone serious harm, I expect she will have been treated fairly enough. Of course, if she has decided to escape on her own, then finding her might be more difficult.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Dante mutters.
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and fiddles with it.
The path here has widened enough that the three of us can walk side by side.
“Do you think they’re going to just let her go?
Does everyone know what you said—that a witch can’t sit on the throne with you? ”
“I am not certain,” I reply, “on either point. I expect they will wish for her to remain here in order to be certain I will remain as well. Whether or not they expect her to sit on the throne with me… They could have some other candidate in mind and wish to keep her here to keep me in line.”
Grant makes an offended sound. When I glance over, he is scowling into the distance. Dante is still looking at his phone, scrolling down what looks like a long list.
“What do you have?” I ask.
His cheeks redden. “I, uh… I made a list. Earlier. When I wasn’t sure if you’d…” He shakes his head. “I wanted us to be prepared. I wasn’t going to ask you to come with us if you didn’t get your magic back.”
“I would have come anyway.”
“It would have been dangerous. Is dangerous.”
I nod, but his words go some way towards soothing the initial hurt. I never should have hesitated. I should have known that taking the throne was inevitable when those fae lured me here.
“So they’re going to be expecting you,” Grant says, “but not us. Who are we supposed to be?”
“You cannot let them know you are a vampire.”
“The witch knows.”
“Irrelevant. She would have always known, but there is not a fae in the court as powerful as her, I can assure you that. Can you use your magic to hide that part of yourself?”
Grant grins. “And then some.”
I do not like that grin, but I do not ask him to elaborate. He has faced high fae before. As long as he hides his true nature, I do not think I need to worry too much.
“What about me?” Dante asks. “My magic?”
“They will not mind it,” I say. “I promise I will keep you safe.”
Dante’s eyes narrow. Does he believe me? Perhaps not, but I will do what I can to prove it.
The trees now are few and far between, and all at once, the path ends and we are in a field of wildflowers.
Bluebells, dog rose, foxglove… A gentle, cool breeze blows through their petals and leaves, and much like the plants near the witch’s cottage, the flowers reach for me, turning their faces in our direction as we walk on by.
Grant tips his face up and looks at the sky. “Two suns?”
I grunt in agreement, and he grins. I can only hope that his initial reaction to our world yesterday was enough to make him immune to the worst of it.
“The flowers are different here,” Dante murmurs. He gives me a sidelong glance. “They like you.”
“They recognise royal fae magic,” I say and hope he does not ask any more questions. “We are in tune with our world.”
He swallows, gaze going distant for a moment. “I saw something last night.”
“Last night?”
“When the witch was outside with me. We—I saw—A star went out.”
My heart thuds in my ears, air squeezing out of my lungs. “You saw it?” I ask in a strangled voice.
Dante looks at me sharply. “Yeah. Just the one.”