Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
Deirdre
The tips of my toes touched the white handkerchief sitting on the bed in front of me.
I replayed the conversation with Liora over in my head even though I didn't want to remember the details of Crispin's death. It broke my heart that we couldn’t have a proper burial and worse that some wild animal probably ate him.
Tugging at the ends of my hair, I wondered what I should do next.
There was no going back to my old life, not without him, and with this collar on my neck, escape seemed impossible. Living without access to my magic would be a cursed life.
What future did I have?
And worse, I got the feeling Kane didn't even want me here. It had been three days since I first arrived and he’d yet to come see me again. What was the point of ruining my life if he had no plans on even speaking with me? Did he plan on just keeping me locked in here as some bizarre pet?
Or was it what I had always feared?
Rubbing my birthmark, a familiar ache bloomed in my chest.
What if my appearance repulsed him? Just like everyone had always said it would. Yes, one could say my eyes were pretty, even doe-like, and my thick, wavy hair had a softness to it that many women coveted, but my face?
At one point, the mark was revered, but as time passed and Kane never showed, the villagers' true opinions became known.
She’s hideous.
If I was the fae king, there’s no way I would marry that thing.
Not that I wanted Kane to find me attractive, but to think all those taunts had been true… Crispin’s voice entered my head, reminding me of my beauty, but I pushed it away. I didn’t want to be reminded of the one person who saw past my face and the prophecy.
Deep down, I didn’t feel beautiful. No matter how many times Crispin would tell me, the words never sunk in. They never got past the insecurity of this rosy mark on my face.
Kane saw me and realized what everyone else did. That’s why he hasn’t come to see me again. I’m an embarrassment. A disgrace to my own kind.
Holding on to that shame felt familiar, and I desperately needed something to feel that way.
Each day was the same: wake, eat, visit Boots, see the gardens, eat… sleep.
And most of the time I couldn’t stomach the food. Each colorful dish seemed too wonderful… and I didn’t want to feel anything other than misery.
My stomach grumbled and I regretted refusing to eat.
How long could I torture myself before I would succumb to the gnawing sensation in my belly? A drive to eat, to survive.
Liora had left the door unlocked. Not on purpose, of course. When she went to leave, I sobbed and screamed, making such a ruckus it distracted her enough to leave without paying attention to my prison.
With the collar on and with Kane having the only key, I wouldn't get far if I tried leaving and the thought of running away without my magic frightened me.
This place was my prison and I had to figure out a way to keep going until Kane trusted me enough to remove this magical dampener around my neck.
My stomach grumbled again, and I really regretted not eating dinner when Liora had offered. When we visited Boots, she gave me a quick overview of the castle, and I had a fairly good idea where the kitchens were located.
No one had told me I had to stay in the spire. Maybe a little walk at night would ease my spirit and I could look at the castle, get a feel for the layout.
The night air blew into the room, the tapestry doing a poor job of keeping the cold out. The candlestick on the night table flickered as the pitter-patter of rain hit the castle walls.
A chill ran through me as a low whistle from the howling window entered the bedroom, making the tapestry flap. In the day when the sunlight beamed through the stained-glass windows, the spire didn’t seem as frightening, but at night, in the cold and the darkness, all warmth seemed to seep out.
The red on the large area rug had faded, the edges worn. Candlelight danced across the stone walls, making the cobwebs high in the corner glitter.
Hugging the blanket tighter around me, I watched the shadows, waiting for Kane or some other fae to appear out of them.
Deirdre.
“Hello? Who said that?”
Wrapping the blanket around me, I walked over to the broken window, peering outside, half expecting a pair of amber eyes to appear.
Thunder boomed, making me jump, and I held the blanket tighter.
I didn’t think I could ever get used to this room. There was nothing warm about it. Not even the small fireplace seemed to remove the chill from my bones.
A fierce wind blew in the room, making the tapestry blocking the broken window flap loudly. I stepped away from the window and back toward the bed.
Deirdre.
Again, my name whistled on the wind. A slight murmur so low I thought my grief had made me mad.
Grabbing the candlestick off the nightstand, I crept toward the door. “Is someone there?”
I thought of ringing the bell and calling for Liora, but it was late in the night and I didn't want to bother her more than I needed to. She had done enough just by bringing Boots here.
“It’s just nerves. I’m hungry, which makes me more irritable and—”
Deirdre.
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. A wave of cold washed over me and I froze. Someone said my name, but who?
Slowly, I turned the knob and the wooden door creaked open.
Holding the candlestick, I searched the stairwell.
“Hello?” I whispered into the night, hoping nothing answered back.
One at a time, I took the winding stone steps to the bottom of the spire stairwell. The light cast shadows across the walls as I glanced around at the quiet sleeping palace.
The two guards at the spire entryway, who were always stationed there, were slumped over on the floor.
Are they dead?
Snores came out of the one on the right.
Asleep?
Not wanting to question my good fortune, I quickly trotted past the sleeping guards, moving as quietly as possible.
If I could escape, maybe I could make my way to King Henry and ask for his protection. Surely, he would be furious with Kane for slaughtering one of his people.
But then he may also be angry with me for running away.
It’s a chance I’m willing to take.
Even without access to my magic, I knew how to forage, what mushrooms to eat. I could survive.
With a newfound hope, I turned down another hallway.
It was hard to tell my location with no defining decorations, no tapestries in this area, just stone after stone.
There was another winding staircase that led down and I thought that maybe that's where the servants’ quarters were.
Following the steps, I searched for anything.
There was no one, not a servant, not even a rat.
A white light drifted ahead, not the warm, orange hues of a lantern, but the bright light of a star.
Curious, I followed the stone steps deeper.
If I didn't have the collar on, I would have been able to feel the earth around me and find my way out of this castle.
The white light bobbed up and down in the middle of the stairwell, which curved, similar to the spire. I looked at the white light, which was not a light, but a thing. A tiny, glowing spirit.
“Are you a will-o’-the-wisp?” I whispered.
It didn't move, allowing me to get closer.
“Did you call my name?”
Its thin body was all white with two black eyes, which were difficult to see with the bright glow around it.
“Can you show me how to get outside?” I asked.
It turned and flew down the stairwell. I ran, chasing after it, cupping my hand around the candlestick to keep it from going out.
It wasn't until the air changed that I worried. There was a damp, putrid scent of rotting mushrooms, nothing like the fresh, dewy scent of the forest.
I shouldn't be in this part of the castle.
The stairwell ended in a circular area with another hallway that went to the left and a set of big wooden doors in front of me.
The will-o’-the-wisp darted to the left, down the corridor shrouded in darkness, the bright-white light illuminating the arched stone.
Deciding that this creature knew the castle layout better than me, I went to follow.
The door opened behind me.
Slowly, I turned.
A gnome, no taller than my waist, wore all black clothing and a red cap.
Instantly, my mind flickered among facts. Gnomes were not inherently dangerous, but there was some significance about the ones with the red caps.
The answer dawned on me too late and the fear must have shown in my eyes because the gnome grinned, and in the candlelight, I discovered the dark patches in his white beard resembled dried blood.
I dashed down the dark hallway after the will-o’-the-wisp, unable to get back to the stairs I had come from.
Clamoring footsteps chased after me.
A sharp prick hit my neck and I froze.
With shaking fingers, I pulled out the dart lodged there.
The gnome had a little brown tube in his mouth, which he put in his pocket and smiled wider. His razor teeth reminded me of the bogey in the pond. I was beginning to think any fae creature with sharp fangs wanted to eat me.
My back muscles tightened.
Paralyzing, shooting pain went down my back as my entire spine locked. I cried out and fell to my knees. The candle fell next to me.
The gnome walked toward me, taking a long, pointed dagger off his belt.
His red eyes glared with maddening glee.
I looked back at the will-o’-the-wisp. “Help!”
The tiny creature zipped over me and the gnome, heading back toward the stairs.
“Don't leave me!” I cried.
My back was frozen, and I used my hands to push myself up toward the wall to give me some sort of protection.
Summoning my magic, I desperately tried to push through the cloud in my mind, to find that tingling tendril of power.
Nothing, not even a glimpse of magic.
Without a weapon or access to my elemental ability, I had no defense.
“Please,” I cried as all feeling left my limbs, and I slumped to the floor.
Unable to lift my head, I watched in horror as the gnome came closer. A splotch of dried blood covered his left boot.
The gnome stepped on the candle, extinguishing the only light, sending us both into darkness.