Chapter 25 Sorrow & Soil #2
“For me, and for others, touching the Rot with our magyk is certainly not a pleasant experience,” Oberon said, “but it is not that intense. I have only ever seen it react that way to you.”
His dark eyes met mine, and I took a shuddering breath. “Which means that your theory is likely correct. I might be the only person who can get rid of it.”
Back in my new room, I allowed Ceres to fuss over me for a few minutes.
She delivered a steaming mug of nettle tea, along with a few soft rosemary biscuits and honey to soothe my nerves and throat.
Oberon said that it was me who had been screaming, and my voice was raw now, so he ordered me not to speak more than was necessary.
Appearing strained and exhausted, he retired to his library again, leaving Sir Toby and I alone in bed.
Once the tea and biscuits were gone, I tried settling into my luxuriously soft feather mattress and closing my eyes, comforted by the hound’s presence at my side.
But as soon as I drifted into a shallow sleep, the Rot found me again.
Dozens of cold hands returned, covering my mouth and eyes, closing around my wrists and ankles, dragging me beneath a suffocating wave of sorrow and soil.
I struggled, thrashed, and tried to scream, but no sound came out.
Dark shapes with empty eyes, twisted limbs, and rasping voices crept in from my periphery, waiting for their chance to tear me apart.
I tumbled, head over heels, through the dirt and the tree roots, grasping desperately for anything that might slow my descent, but there was no help to be found.
My only saving grace was the light—pale and glimmering, it appeared above me, forcing back the freezing darkness until I could lift myself to the surface again.
“May!” The voice was familiar, but full of fear. “May, wake up!”
“Devil!” I sat bolt upright and slammed into his chest. Out of sheer panic, I pressed myself against him, clutching at his shirt and burying my face in it.
I could feel his fireflies brushing against my skin, as if examining me for wounds, and their warmth helped slow my breathing, holding me back from the edge of terror.
“What’s the matter?” Devil breathed. His hands closed on either side of my head and he tried to tilt my face back, but I jerked out of his grip and hid my face in his chest again, so he stroked my hair instead. Over and over, he whispered, “I’m here. You’re safe,” until my body began to relax.
“Just a nightmare,” I finally murmured. His arms encircled me and he shifted, sitting on the bed with me curled against his side.
Whining softly, Sir Toby crawled up beside us and dropped his heads into my lap.
I rubbed one of his soft ears between my fingers, like a child might rub a comforting blanket.
“I see you’ve been introduced to the true King of the Bower,” Devil said, brushing curls away from my face.
“Indeed,” I laughed softly. “I think Sir Toby might just supplant you as my most faithful companion.”
“Let’s not make any hasty decisions, now,” Devil admonished. “He does not enjoy bathing, and makes a rather smelly bedfellow.”
“Oh, and you make a better one?” I asked, finally peering up at him.
“You tell me, princess,” he said with a smirk, eyes flickering down my body.
I sat up and moved away, face burning. Despite the jokes, a crease appeared between his brows, deep and full of worry.
I suddenly recalled Oberon’s words from the day before: He cannot truly care for you.
If this wasn’t care, it certainly was a convincing imitation, and I did not want to reject it. Not now, anyway.
“Oberon took me to the Rot,” I told him quietly. “I…I felt it.”
Devil let out a low growl of frustration. “Did it hurt you?”
“Not my body, but…it felt terrible, and I did not expect it to find me in my dreams.” His fists balled and the fireflies burned brighter. I peeked over his shoulder and saw that it was nearly dusk now. I’d been asleep for hours.
“Let me talk to him,” said Devil. “He cannot do this to you.”
“No. I just need to practice…with my power.” I held my hand up and let out a few vines of shadow, making his eyes widened with surprise.
“You found your magyk,” he breathed. “Shadowspinner.”
His fingers twisted too and the fireflies flew down to form a neat little line along my shadowy branch.
“Did he send you to watch me while I slept?” I asked.
Devil’s smirk returned. “He does not even know I am here. I thought perhaps you’d started to miss me.”
“Well, I hate to disappoint,” I said dryly.
“In that case…” He stood up, taking his fireflies, and his warmth, with him.
Without thinking, I grabbed the edge of his wing. “Please…don’t go. I-I do not want to be alone again.”
“Mayhem, are you asking me to stay the night with you?” Devil laughed, looking back over his shoulder.
“You would refuse?”
“That is not what I said.”
“I could always order you to stay,” I said slowly, “…since you belong to me now.”
He turned his entire body to face me, frowning. “I don’t understand.”
“Oberon said he was going to…‘return you to the Arden’, that he had no more use for you, and that you’d become difficult to manage. A burden.”
“And you disagreed?”
“No,” I snorted, “but I could not let him do it. Not when…”
“Not when…what?” He stepped closer, his eyes fixed intently on my face.
“Nevermind,” I muttered as the exhaustion took over my body again.
I flopped onto my pillows, holding back the words I’d wanted to say: Not when you might be the only person in this entire forest I actually trust. “You do not have to stay. I know you probably have many important things to do—many other innocent people to torment.” I closed my eyes, but only a moment later, felt the end of the mattress dip, and heard two soft thuds.
When I looked up, he was sitting up against one of the posts at the end of my bed, his boots discarded on the ground and wings stretched out behind him.
“Of course, I’ll stay,” he murmured, opening his palm and letting out a few pale, glowing orbs. Sir Toby belly-crawled down, dropping one head into his lap and the other two onto my feet, just as I closed my eyes again.
When I woke in the morning, Devil was gone, but his lights had stayed with me, holding the nightmares at bay.