18. Yeah, That’s Not Creepy At All
Ihurried along the landing and away from the pit before my legs gave up and tossed me back in. All traces of heat had evaporated from my body, leaving a feverish chill in their wake. I wasn’t sure which was worse.
The landing was long. Too long. A patterned carpet, its colours faded with dust and age, stretched endlessly ahead. More torches flickered on the walls. It was magic. Sorcery. The tower was round and not especially tall. There was no room for a corridor, and yet, there it was. Worse still, faint music drifted from the far end.
What now?
The hairs on my arms rose. I’d seen enough horror movies to know that approaching the strange, faint music was a bad idea, but there was no other way unless I wanted to give up. Did I? Could I turn around and crawl meekly back to the witches, telling them I’d almost made it but lost my nerve?
Shame curdled in my gut, and I set off, the carpet deadening my steps.
The music grew louder, its low, sultry melody becoming more distinct. New sounds joined it. Distant laughter, and moaning.
My damp brow furrowed, but I kept walking.
A door came into view, set into the right side of the corridor. It was thrown open, and light spilled into the hall. My steps slowed, my senses straining, alert for the clue that would tell me this was just another trap. I’d almost missed the last one, and though this was obviously another of Maelgwyn’s tricks, I needed to pay attention if I planned to outwit it.
Another laugh rumbled, low and gravelly, and a woman burst through the door. I jolted to a halt, my muscles stiffening. She stumbled into the corridor, clutching a silk robe to her chest. Long, dark hair swayed around her as she found her feet, smiling and flushed. Dark eyes landed on me and widened.
“You made it.” Her bare feet made only the slightest of muffled footfalls as she hurried toward me.
My knees bent slightly, primed to run, but she made no move to touch me. Besides, she was small, barely taller than a witch, with a slender frame hidden by her slip of silk and little else. I wasn’t exactly a champion fighter, but my chances against her were good.
“It has been forever since anyone new came along,” she continued. “The princes are waiting, come.”
She seized my arm, and I was too slow to avoid her touch, but her skin was warm and soft and real. Normal. Not a ghost, or a vampire, as far as I could tell. Besides, I did need to find the princes.
“Come where?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I stumbled along beside her.
“To the princes, and your rewards.” She shot me a grin. “We all came for the same reasons. Immortality, riches, the princes.”
“We?”
“The humans, of course.”
The music pulsed inside my head, thrumming through my body, merging with my heartbeat, seeping into my blood. The woman’s hand, hooked around my arm, was firm but gentle. Following her was easy. The ache in my legs disappeared as I walked. In fact, I couldn’t feel them at all. Was I floating? Did I care?
I drifted, dream-like and woozy, toward the door, the music within and around me growing louder and more insistent. Intoxicating. Feverish. The world was slow and clumsy, or maybe that was me. Should I be dancing? I certainly felt a little drunk. My skin heated and I eyed my companion”s robe with envy. I couldn’t remember why I was wearing ugly boots and a heavy wrap when I had perfectly good skin underneath. Beautiful, supple skin that deserved to feel the air.
We neared the door my friend had come through, stepping into a puddle of golden light, and I gasped at the sight awaiting me.
Naked bodies, more than I could even begin to count, writhed and ground together. Moans and pants of pleasure mingled with the music. I’d never seen anything like it, never imagined I could be a part of it, but my new friend’s invitation had been clear. The princes were waiting for me.
As though on cue, an exquisite specimen of a man rose, extricating himself from the women pawing at him. He smiled as he approached, a beautiful lop-sided grin that revealed elongated fangs. That wasn’t the only beautiful thing about him. My eyes widened as they travelled down the rippling muscles of his torso, to the defined V at his hips. Lower. I gulped. I’d never seen a man that big.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, drawing my attention back to his face.
Clearly. His body gave every sign of readiness. If only I hadn’t worn so many clothes. They would only delay my reward.
Reward…
For what?
“Wait.” I scrunched my brow, trying to remember the haze of events that had led me here. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
“Come here,” he said, opening his arms, inviting me into them.
My knee bent, the weight shifting off my foot.
No.
The curse. I still had to break it. I gave my head a shake, and some of the fog dissipated. This was a trick. So much for being alert.
Before the spell had time to sink its claws back in, I wrenched my arm free of the woman’s grasp and broke into a sprint.
Yells and roars of frustration echoed along the corridor behind me, but I didn’t look back. An archway lay ahead, and I burst through it, skidding to a halt on the polished marble floor.
I found myself in a large chamber, lit by an enormous candelabra hung from the ceiling. Thousands of candles burnt amongst the crystal cascade, throwing an explosion of refracted light over the walls and floors.
Opposite, another, identical archway waited, but the way was blocked by a long banquet table, laden with dishes. Fragrant steam coiled into the air.
I groaned a sigh as my mouth flooded at the scent of garlic and spice. My feet carried me closer, eager for once, and my mouth fell open at the sight of a mountain of nachos, smothered in thick, melted cheese and sprinkled with coriander and jalapenos. Dishes of salsa and guacamole crammed into the gaps left between platters. A pile of tortillas, bowls of beans and rice and vegetables. And curry too! I hurried along the table, my stomach growling at a dish filled with rich, orange sauce topped with yoghurt. A stack of poppadoms. Even a platter laden with neat rows of inari sushi. My favourite. In fact, everything was my favourite, right down to the bowl of chocolate ice cream and the dish of rhubarb crumble. A feast made just for me.
What had Pansy said about fae food? Something about hospitality laws, and the promise of safety? It was too convenient that all my most beloved dishes were laid out waiting in a crumbling old ruin, fresh and steaming as though they’d come straight from the kitchen. Another trick, but how did it work? Was I supposed to be suspicious, bypassing the protection offered by the laws of the fae, or was I supposed to believe that? Was I supposed to eat, thinking I’d be safe, only to be poisoned, or cursed, or to choke to death?
I dithered while my stomach rumbled. How long had it been since my pathetic breakfast of gruel disguised as porridge? A million years, probably, and it had been even longer since I’d had the comfort of proper, human food. I circled back to the curry, swallowing my saliva. Maelgwyn was fae, and fae couldn’t harm anyone who ate their food. It had to be protection. But why would he leave a protective banquet lying around when he clearly wanted me dead?
He wouldn’t. That was my answer, as disappointing as it was. Besides, I already had protection, both from Claudia’s necklace, and the witches. It had served me well this far.
The food was just another trick, even if I couldn’t see why or how. Before I could give in to temptation, I veered off toward the arch, every step heavy with regret as I left the table behind. Soon. I would soon be home, and Mum would spoil me and make me as fat and happy as a pig. I didn’t need Maelgwyn’s offerings.
The delicious aromas faded as I set off up yet another flight of curving steps, my stomach aching with hunger and dread. A little nacho snack would have been the perfect fuel to get me to the top of yet another enchanted staircase.
This one, however, came to an end before I’d even got my heart pumping. I emerged onto another landing. There were no lights up here, bar the faint glow of my lantern. Cavernous stone archways opened on either side, but beyond them, I found only uninviting walls of darkness. Bypassing the luring voids, I set off down another impossible corridor.
My skin prickled, and though my lantern failed to light the hidden depths beyond the archways, I was certain that something hid in the darkness, watching me. Chills skittered down my spine, and I tightened my grip on the dagger, quickening my pace.
Where were these Goddamned princes?
“Aliza!”
I stumbled to a halt, my heart pounding as I turned to stare back down the corridor. I knew that voice. Knew it better than my own heartbeat.
“Mum?” I whispered.
“Aliza, come back, help us!”
“Aliza, we’re here.” That was Dad’s voice joining Mum’s anguished cry. “Don’t leave us!”
The stale air was suddenly frigid as my parents’ voices turned to sobs, interspersed with cries of my name. The sound grated over my heart, clawing and tugging at me, calling me back the way I’d come.
I screwed up my eyes. “You’re not here. You’re not real.”
“Don’t go, Aliza! We need you. Help us. Help us!”
Question everything you might see or hear.
Sage’s warning hissed in my ear as though the witch was right beside me. She was right. Whoever those voices belonged to, they were not my mum and dad. My parents wouldn’t try to lure me into the shadows, they’d tell me to run, to leave them.
“Fuck this,” I muttered, shaking my head.
The rifts were sealed. My parents were not imprisoned in a lonely old tower in a magical realm. They were home. Distraught, but safe. Far away from here. Though it shredded my soul to do so, I turned on my heel and broke into a limping jog, leaving the haunting voices behind.
Another archway marked the end of the corridor, this one blocked by double doors rather than darkness. I burst through them with my parents’ desperate cries echoing in my heart, slamming them shut behind me. The voices fell silent at once, and I slumped against the doors, my chest rising and plunging with every breath. Tears streamed down my cheeks, dripping to my collar.
It wasn’t real. It was a trick, designed to lure me into whatever hideous fate awaited in the shadows. A trick, nothing more. Mum and Dad were far from here, safe. The only help they needed was for me to break this wretched curse and get home, relieving them of their torment.
Swiping my tears away with my bandage, I opened my eyes to see what fresh hell awaited me.
I was in a circular room, walled with yet more archways. These ones weren’t full of darkness, or even blocked by doors, but filled edge to edge with swirling, white mist. Each was indistinguishable from the next, but for the one I leaned against.
Straightening, I took a step away from the doors. As I did so, something, some distant shadow, stirred within each window of mist. I froze, and the shadows fell still. They were barely distinguishable amongst the swirling vapours, but when I squinted, I could still pick them out.
My heart hammered a frantic beat against my ribs. How much more could I take before it gave up completely? It would be just my luck to make it this far only to die of heart failure.
I was close to my goal though. That pull, that magic, thrummed through me with renewed intensity, telling me this was it, the end, or the beginning. I was almost where I was supposed to be.
My foot slid into another careful step, and then another. The mist shadows moved with me, growing in size and clarity.
“Reflections?” I whispered, revolving on the spot.
Sure enough, the six dark figures moved with me. Relief crashed over me in a wave. It was me, just myself mirrored in the arches, not monsters stalking closer. I blew out a sigh, bracing my nerves, and marched the remaining distance to the archway directly opposite. Dagger poised, I forced myself to walk into the mist without hesitation.
White engulfed me.
My grip on my weapon tightened as fog obliterated my vision, but before I could do more than draw a breath, it faded away. I squinted as sunlight glared into my eyes, but there was nothing I could do to block out the screams.
Terrible, anguished screams, somewhere between a wail and a war cry echoed off the high ceiling. Beneath my feet, the ground was slick and dark with blood, and in the centre of the pool, a painfully small form lay still. Too still.
I lurched for the child, my hands outstretched, but the moment I lifted my foot, the room dissolved.
Weak sunlight, grey compared to that I’d become accustomed to, winked and rippled on the surface of a pond, stirred by a breeze. A group of women huddled on the bank. One had wine-red hair.
Abby!
I tried to move, but my feet refused to budge.
A police car trundled over the grass to the mouth of an all too familiar cave, joining a fleet of emergency vehicles already in place. Dogs in luminous vests sniffed frantically around the glen, darting in and out of the caves.
Isobel was standing with a pair of officers, sobbing into her hands.
The world shifted again. The Fairy Glen became an autumn woodland. People dashed between the trunks, sprinting past me with stricken faces. Fae. Some clutched children or small animals to their chests. Others threw terrified glances over their shoulders.
The leaf-strewn ground disappeared from beneath me, replaced by cold, endless blue. Clouds, like gold-gilded cotton wool, sped by, almost within touching distance.
A solemn-faced crowd filled a courtyard, a castle at their backs blocking out the sky. Flames roared to life, a wall of heat between me and them.
The visions sped by, gaining momentum. A snap of mighty jaws. A rain of feathers and blood.
A hulking, horned beast towered over me with skin like ash. Its leathery wings spread wide.
Jacques fled through a twilit wood, drenched in blood.
A frozen, starlit lake. A peal of laughter.
A dark-haired man carried a body through the night.
A tower of ice, melting and buckling as it burnt.
Diamonds scattered over the floor.
Rain battered down and thunder echoed, making the very air quake. Icy wind rushed by, whipping my skin. Blue-white light flared, and with a mighty crack, my muscles seized.
Everything fell away. I couldn’t breathe. My heart refused to beat. My body bowed under the strain of my rigid muscles.
All at once, I went limp. I lay flat on my back, panting down the stale air of the tower. Above me, cobwebs dangled from a shadowy ceiling. No more visions. No more mist.
Gingerly, I hauled myself to my feet, only to find myself exactly where I’d begun, in a circular room. Where the archways had been, only dusty stone walls remained. Gone was the mist, and the shadows within. The doors I’d come through stood at my back, and a new set, carved with runes lay ahead. I approached, lifting my hand to trace a finger over one of the hundreds of carvings.
Something whimpered behind me.
The pitiful sound locked my muscles in place. My ears strained, catching the faintest hint of shallow, rasping breath.
God, what now?
Willing my hammering heart to ease, I turned slowly, squinting, afraid of what fresh horror lurked at my back.
Something, no, someone was curled up in the foetal position exactly where I’d lain only moments ago. My heart skidded to a halt, dropping to my boots at the sight of red-raw, melted flesh.
Every inch of twisted, steaming skin was burnt beyond recognition. All traces of hair had been scorched clean away from the splitting, blistered scalp, and the one ear I could see was nothing more than a pit in the side of the head. Smoke coiled into the air, filling the chamber with the putrid stench of roasted meat. I clapped a hand to my mouth, swaying on the spot, torn between the urge to run and help, and the need to turn away from such a gut-wrenching sight.
The person whimpered again, a tiny, rasping whine.
How were they still alive? Death would be a mercy. There was no coming back from this.
Except, it wasn’t real. It was just another of Maelgwyn’s visions, sent to frighten or trick me into turning away from my goal.
Comforting though that thought was, when the poor wretch stirred, attempting to shift their contorted limbs, pity swallowed me whole. Real or not, could they feel pain? I almost hoped the burns had gone deep enough to destroy the nerves, the only mercy in such horror. If an animal came to me like this, I’d end its suffering as soon as possible, but people were rarely lucky enough to be gifted a humane end.
Tugging my wrap over my nose, I took an absent-minded step closer.
As though sensing my presence, the person moaned, craning their neck to lift their head off the ground. Flesh sloughed away, sticking to the stone.
“Don’t.” I held out my hand, as though the poor thing could somehow see or hear my warnings.
Tears welled in my eyes at their pitiful yet desperate attempts to rise. There was nothing I could do to help. My knowledge was useless without the tools to implement it, but my soul thrashed, desperate to intercede, to help. I shook my head in an attempt to rid myself of the emotion clouding my thoughts. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
The burnt person continued to struggle, fighting uselessly against the shrunken contraction of their flesh.
Shrunken…
Maybe I should use my dagger. A quick end had to be better than this. The hilt was slick in my sweating palm as I flexed my fingers, lifting the blade.
It would be no different to administering a lethal dose of pentobarbitone, would it?
My hand trembled and my breath quickened.
“Come on, Aliza,” I hissed.
I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it. It was not the same as euthanasia, and I was no murderer.
My unfortunate companion writhed with renewed vigour, their tormented groans becoming louder. A ruined hand braced against the ground, and against all the laws of science and medicine, against the heat shrunken tightness of the muscles, the arm straightened, pushing them upright.
With twitching jerks of motion, the person sat, then kneeled, and as I stumbled back several steps, stood. Melted flesh smoothed, turning from charred red to pink to tan. Dark blonde hair sprouted from the healed scalp, growing at an alarming rate. Disfigured features regrew, smoothing into a woman’s face.
My face.
The woman standing before me was… me.
As naked as the day she was born, my doppelganger stared. Her–my–blue eyes flickered over me before coming to rest on my face. Though she was undoubtedly my double, and though her hair was my natural colour, untouched by my beloved dyes, there was a glow about her that I’d certainly never achieved. A red mark bloomed between her breasts, spreading over her chest like fern leaves.
“You’re close,” she said, stealing my voice. I gulped. “The door behind you will lead you to the goal. The door behind me will lead you home. You have a choice to make.”
“I can only choose one door?” I still had a voice after all. I massaged my throat, rubbing at the ghostly ache.
“No. Both doors will remain open to you.”
“Then what do you mean? And what are you?”
“I am you, if you choose to go onward.”
My eyes lingered on the boring hair. My double smiled knowingly. Immortality without my rainbow hair? Was it worth it? Of course not, but then, if she really was me, she’d know that breaking the curse didn’t mean I’d accept the rewards. She’d know the only way home lay with the princes. I wasn’t doing this for immortality or crowns or any of that nonsense. It was the flaw in Maelgwyn’s plan, his assumptions that this world was better than the one I’d come from. His belief that I’d been driven here by greed and ambition, rather than necessity.
“Leave now, and remain as you are. Go on, and be forever changed.”
“Changed how?” Despite my certainty that Maelgwyn had misread my motivations, I had to be sure. What if immortality was automatic? What if breaking the curse triggered my reward, not giving me a chance to refuse it? “Will it happen right away? Will I become… you?”
“It is a choice only you can make.”
Hardly a straight answer. Typical fae trickery, I assumed. Veiled words. Hints. Lies.
“How do I break the curse?” Not that I believed for a second that Maelgwyn’s creation would give me an honest answer, but it was worth a try. At least I could rule out whatever she said.
She graced me with a faint smile. “You must give your life.”
I frowned, goosebumps peppering my skin. “You just said you’re me, if I choose to go ahead. How can both be true?”
“Time will ravage and decay everything you love. Your heart will break relentlessly and the pain will never fade. You will be cursed to inhabit this world alone, for eternity, as it changes and lives and dies around you. You will lose everything for a crown.”
I rolled my eyes. She sounded like a child’s toy, spouting prerecorded phrases. Nothing she said made sense, or even linked to her last sentences, never mind mine. She wasn’t real. If she really was me, she’d know that I had no interest in crowns. I was here to break a curse, and then I was going home. I wouldn’t be in this world at all. Let the princes keep their rewards, I had no use for them. I’d save this God-forsaken world, but as soon as it was done, I was going home, mortal and free, to binge my favourite shows and eat all the fajitas I could get my hands on.
This was just a final diversion designed to make me doubt myself. More lies and tricks. I had no time for such nonsense, not now. I knew I was close.
“Let’s get this over with,” I muttered, turning my back on myself. I half expected my immortal self to grab me, or at least argue, but my hand reached the door unhindered.
“I tried to warn you.”
I glanced back, but the speaker had vanished, leaving me well and truly alone, but for the chill creeping down my spine.
Just a trick, I reminded myself and pushed open the final door.