Chapter 19 Family & Little Friends
Chapter nineteen
Family & Little Friends
Above me, the forest spun.
I did not know if I was standing or sitting or falling.
I might have been buried beneath the earth for all I knew—numb with delirious disbelief.
But even through all of it, my body’s first instinct was to laugh. Loud, mocking, and shrill, it burst from my mouth without bidding, beyond my control. I stood and wrapped my arms around myself, stumbling away from the two men whose faces I could hardly make out through my haze.
Naturally, Devil came after me, imploring, “May, please come back.”
“No,” I croaked. “No, both of you…you lie. You must be lying…”
“We cannot,” Devil murmured. “Surely, you see it, don’t you? You must have felt it the moment you set foot in the Arden all those years ago.”
“I felt nothing…” I lied, staring off into the thick, suffocating darkness.
“May…” Devil’s voice was soft and placating behind me, but I did not want to hear it. “Please come back and listen…”
In my heart, in my very soul, I knew it was the truth.
Oberon could not lie. He had said the words plain as day, no room for obfuscation or hidden meanings.
Your mother. A dead faerie princess—a creature of power such that no one had ever seen before.
That was why they wanted me back now, and the idea of it scorched my insides with fury.
I was a tool to them, nothing more. Kept alive to rid the Arden of its curse and not even given the courtesy of a family or a home.
A sacred calf, not worth raising by hand, but still tagged to be slaughtered at the goddess’s altar.
It was too much.
Too cruel.
I rounded on both of them and let my wrath pour out like molten iron.
“I will not sit here,” I hissed, “hands folded politely, and listen to the tale of how I was discarded on the Abbey steps before my dead mother’s blood was even washed from my face!”
“That is not what happened, Marina, please!” Oberon choked.
Devil’s mouth fell open. “May, just…just let us explain…”
“Explain…” I breathed, pointing at him. “Explain what, exactly? Explain how you knew the truth the entire time and didn’t bother to tell me?
Explain why you fed me a basket full of convenient half-truths about the debt I owe you?
” I shifted to Oberon, whose forehead was crinkled with worry.
“Explain how you’ve been planning this for gods-know how long, allowing me to live a lie, and only bringing me in on your little game when you needed my power, or my blood, or whatever it is you’re after?
No! I will not hear it!” Just as my voice gave out, my knees did too, and I fell to the forest floor.
The tears came whether I wanted them or not, streaming down my face and falling onto the delicate chiffon skirt.
They sat atop the fabric, little glittering dewdrops of grief and anger, for a few moments before dissipating into shadowy stains.
“Marina…please…” The faerie king sounded so sincere, his tone so gentle and soothing, that I wanted to listen.
I wanted him to speak about Lyric again, to hear the reverence in his voice.
My beloved daughter. More than anything in the entire world—more than adventure, or freedom, or friendship, more than Will—the one thing I had always longed for was to be someone’s beloved daughter.
To be wanted, cherished, sheltered, adored.
But I had made my peace with it long ago.
I had accepted that I would never belong to a family beyond the one at Locksley.
To hear now that I had been wanted, that I had been asked for, prayed for, loved, only to have it ripped away by those who could not set aside their hate and greed.
It opened up a vast, empty wound inside me—all-consuming and overwhelming.
Slowly, on trembling legs, I stood and faced Oberon.
“Peace, my Lord. Save your precious breath, for I would hear nothing from the man who so easily abandoned me. What was it? You did not want another filthy human desecrating your forest? Or did you not want to raise a living reminder of your own failure?” The cruelty in my voice, a well-aimed arrow, hit its mark.
Oberon’s face twisted in pain, but I did not wait for a response.
I gathered my skirt and ran. Between the trees, with no destination nor plan, carrying nothing but despair and rage.
I ran until I could no longer draw breath, until my body was on the brink of giving up, then I collapsed in the lee of a fallen log.
It was blanketed in moss, studded with delicate, purple mushrooms shaped like a lady’s fan, and half broken over a large boulder.
The perfect place to give myself over to the forest, to let my bones become fodder for moss and mushrooms and all manner of tiny creatures.
As if hearing my thoughts, the bugs found me.
A chubby, green caterpillar came first, inching along a branch beside my face, then stopping to lift its front half, as if to check that my eyes were still open.
Then came an enormous stag beetle, his hard, iridescent shell glimmering beautifully in the faint moonlight.
He made himself comfortable on my bare shoulder, while I lifted the caterpillar and placed it on my knee, where it was quickly joined by a small white moth, and a brilliant red lady-beetle with elegant black spots.
Last to come along was a furry jumping spider, who crawled onto the filthy toe of my shoe and turned outward, keeping watch.
“My little friends,” I whispered. “I am glad to have you, if no one else.”
Pulling the silk Huntress moth cape up, I wrapped it like a blanket around my shoulders, then allowed myself to cry again.
In front of Devil and Oberon, I’d held back the flood, but now I let it pour out—sobbing, screaming, cursing the forest and its folk and anyone else I could think of.
I begged myself to wake up, hoping this was merely the dream I’d asked for, turned nightmare.
Finally, I prayed. I asked the Holy Family to help me find my way out of this evil place, away from the heartless creatures I’d become entangled with.
I swore never to leave Locksley Abbey again, swore I would take my vows, forget the Arden, and live out my life according to their wishes.
But they did not answer, and I cried harder.
By the time I ran out of tears, the fireflies had found me.
They danced across my exposed skin, little balls of warmth that made me realize how cold I was.
My insect companions began to trundle away one at a time, and I whispered a soft word of thanks as they went.
I knew he was lurking somewhere nearby, and the appearance of a golden Huntress moth, spun from magyk light, only confirmed it.
It fluttered through the darkness to land on my knee, but I brushed it away, causing it to fade.
“Devil,” I rasped into the night. “I am hardly in the mood for your games.”
“I thought the bugs might cheer you up,” he said from somewhere above me.
I tilted my head back to find him perched atop the fallen log.
His great, red wings drooped over the sides, brushing the moss-covered ground, as if he did not even have the energy to hold them up.
Carefully, he slid down and dropped into a crouch beside me.
“I hate you,” I whispered noncommittally, turning my face away.
“You’ve certainly earned the right,” he replied. “May, please believe me. I wanted to tell you everything the moment you came to the Arden that night as a child. I have despised every gods-damned second of this charade, but…if I disobey him…”
“What? What can he do to you?”
“He could unravel every fiber of my being, had he enough cause,” Devil murmured, looking at his own hands. “I am bound to him for that reason, if no other. Now that you know the truth, though, I can answer your questions.”
I hesitated, but turned toward him, finding nothing except sincerity on his face. “I do not even know what to ask,” I sighed, leaning my head back to gaze up at the trees. “What questions would you have, in my place?”
Devil laughed. “Hmmm. I would certainly want answers about my own magyk.”
“No. No, that is still…still too overwhelming to even consider. Something easier.”
“Well, I suppose…I would want to know everything about my parents…”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yes. What was his name? My…my father…”
Devil gave a long sigh too and twisted his fingers, causing the light to dance in midair, then form the image of a man’s face and shoulders.
Whereas the puppets he created before had been faceless and entirely golden, this image was clear and colorful.
Were it not for the faint, shimmering quality, like a reflection in the water, I would have thought it real.
I rose up and knelt before it, failing to control the shaking as I framed the face with my fingers.
“His name was Henry,” Devil said gently. “But sometimes, I heard him called Hal.”
“Henry,” I whispered, tears rolling down my cheeks.
He was handsome, strong, kind—I could see it in the curve of his dimpled smile.
A mess of brown curls fell across his forehead, working alongside deep laugh lines to frame a pair of sparkling green eyes.
My eyes. Finally, after a lifetime of waiting, I saw them reflected back to me in someone else’s face.
“He was a hunter?”
“Yes, and a soldier, trusted deeply by his Prince and his men.”
“Lost in the battle…”
“After he left the Arden, no one ever saw him again, but I never knew a man more devoted to his wife. Had he survived, he would have torn the entire world apart to find the two of you.”
I fought back a cry of grief. In response, Devil released another stream of light to form Lyric’s image beside Henry’s.
My eyes and freckles were his, but my face was undoubtedly hers.
The roundness, the wide nose and bowed lips and thick lashes, the rich brown skin.
Her image smiled at me, and I fell apart again.
Devil quickly pulled the light back into his hands and wrapped an arm around my shoulders as I slumped into him, sobbing.
“I’m sorry, May. I shouldn’t have—”
“No,” I sniffled, “no, thank you. I-I wanted to see them, but…if I ask again, you must deny me, please. Otherwise I might just sit and watch them until I wither away.”
“Well, I can’t have that, can I?” he chuckled.
“Because your master would be displeased?”
“No…because then who would incessantly remind me what a vile, contemptible monster I am?”
I managed a weak laugh. “Antenor seems quite capable of taking up my mantle.”
“That winged rat could not deliver a clever insult even with a blade at his throat,” Devil snorted.
“You have quite a talent for it, which should not go to waste. Come along.” He slipped from behind me and stood, holding his hands out.
I looked up at him through my haze of dried tears and managed to find just enough strength to take them.
He hauled me to my feet and I frowned at my mud-stained skirt.
“I’ve ruined this gown. Arachne will be angry.”
“The gown was a gift from me. Arachne need never know. Besides, Oberon would like for you to stay at the Bower now. He has a private room for you there.” I heard the note of disappointment in his voice, I was already vehemently shaking my head.
“No. No, I do not want to stay there. I do not want to see him right now. Not yet.”
“He ordered me to bring you back in one piece,” Devil sighed. I yanked my hands out of his and took an unsteady step back.
“I won’t go. You can either leave me here or take me back to the Hollow, but I won’t let you take me to him.” I closed my fists, ready to fight if need be.
“It is far more comfortable there. A real bed…real food…a hot bath without a hike. I only want you to be—”
“No!” I cried. “Take me anywhere but there! Please.”
His eyes flickered across my face, full of pained indecision.
“Mayhem…” he finally groaned, glancing back over his shoulder. “You will be the death of me, and I am only trying to help. The Bower is safer than the Hollow.”
I drew myself up and asked, “Are you at his command or mine, Devil?”
It was a foolish question, of course. Devil had said that Oberon could take him apart as easily as look at him, and I had no such leverage. But he closed the distance between us quickly, taking my face between his hands. His thumbs brushed over my cheeks, wiping away the tear stains.
“Yours,” he murmured. “Always, without question, yours. Even if it is my undoing.” To my utter shock, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead, then bent down and swept me into his arms. “I cannot take you with magyk this time. We will have to fly.” I nodded, wrapped my arms around his neck, and buried my face in his shoulder, steeling myself for the flight.
As we rose into the cold night air, I lifted my head just enough to kiss his cheek and whisper, “Thank you, Devil.”