Chapter 27 Aggravations & Theories #2
My nerves were on fire at Antenor’s sudden insight into my personal life, and now at the prospect of speaking to Titania.
I did not even know what I might say to her, but it had been eating away at me since I’d arrived in the Arden—my own grandmother wanting nothing to do with me.
I understood grief. Perhaps not in the same way, but I had wrestled with it too.
It was a constant companion of mine, particularly now that I knew exactly what kind of life had been taken from me.
I hoped, and dared to pray, that Titania would see it too, that if we could not be a family, she might at least agree to help me with the Rot.
Even if nothing came of our meeting, there was still a fire in my belly that needed to either be quenched or fanned, and I would see it done.
With Oberon’s permission, Antenor left the rowan grove with a message to Hippolyta on my behalf.
We walked slowly back to the Bower, where Sir Toby was snoring loudly in a hammock of moss between the pine tree’s roots.
He lifted one head and eyed us carefully, then gave a mighty, triple yawn and pulled himself to his feet.
“Are you hungry?” Oberon asked me.
I nodded and put my hand on the tree trunk to call up my own private door. Oberon, who abhorred climbing stairs, just let out his mighty wings in a swirl of shadow. As I sunk my own magyk into the bark, he leapt into the air and circled the tree several times on his way up to the library balcony.
“Show-off,” I muttered.
My puny door appeared and, like a human peasant, I climbed the stairs with Sir Toby.
By the time I reached the library, I was far past exhausted.
Thankfully, Ceres had already brought up our meal.
There was a tureen filled with thick rabbit and barley stew, featuring chunks of soft parsnip and pearl onions, with a steaming-hot loaf of rosemary-encrusted brown bread.
Beside the stew sat a platter of roasted figs, stuffed with soft cheese, sprinkled in cardamom, and honey-drizzled.
My stomach was ready to tear itself apart, so I took a wooden bowl from the tray and sat across from Oberon, who had waited on me before eating.
After a few bites of bread dipped in the stew’s hearty broth, I looked up at him and asked one of the thousand questions running incessantly through my head.
“Why do you hide your wings all the time?”
He sat back in his chair and considered me thoughtfully for a moment. “They are quite cumbersome when living in such a relatively small space.”
I took another bite of stew-soaked bread, then observed, “Antenor never hides his. He always has them out on display, along with his horns. You hide those too, even though I can’t imagine they’re terribly inconvenient.”
“Is there something you’re getting at, Marina?” asked Oberon gently.
I shrugged. “I suppose I’m just curious. If I had wings or horns or a tail or something like that…I don’t think I’d ever hide them.”
“Antenor has no reason to hide his natural features. He is quite proud of them, and of course, the young ladies of the Arden find them rather…exotic and charming.”
“Oh, I’m sure they do.”
“Besides,” Oberon continued, his tone heavier, “I have lived here for so long, many folk have forgotten where I came from. The wings and horns, to some, are…an unpleasant reminder that I was not born into this world, particularly now that Titania has effectively abdicated her role as queen. In spite of our closeness, there is some tension between the Arden and Pallasian Courts. Cultural differences, if you will.”
Silence settled over the table again as we both continued eating.
I finished off my stew quickly and was just reaching for one of the figs when a shadow darkened the window.
It was Hippolyta, looking dower. Oberon quickly shifted the magyk barrier and I met her in the center of the library before she could even tuck in her great, golden eagle wings.
“I suppose Antenor already gave you my message? Thank you for coming so quickly.”
“I was surprised, to say the least,” the commander replied, resting a hand on the pommel of her sword.
“Do you think Titania would see me?” I asked, twisting my hands together as I approached.
Hippolyta’s answer was dimmed by sadness. “I…I cannot say. If you are willing to try, I am willing to take you to her, though I cannot guarantee anything.”
“You will guarantee Marina’s safety, Commander,” said Oberon from behind me.
I looked back to see a muscle twitching in his jaw, then faced Hippolyta again. “I want to go now.”
She hesitated for a moment, exchanging a meaningful look with Oberon, before bowing at the waist. “As you wish, my lady.”
“Wait,” Oberon said, stepping forward and holding out his hand, which contained a writhing ball of shadows with a metallic, silvery core. It floated toward Hippolyta and she absorbed it into her own outstretched hand. Then, he turned toward me and offered up a second orb of magyk.
“This will allow you to travel through the Arden only once,” he said quietly.
“Do not use it, except in an emergency. Tap into the currents of power, like I have shown you, and then simply picture the place you want to go and pull yourself there.” I held my hand out and the orb settled into it, soaking through my skin like smoke.
It tingled for a moment, then a bolt of heat shot up my arm and spread through my body, making me shiver.
“Thank you,” I murmured. He hesitated for a moment, but then put his hands on either side of my face and pressed a brief kiss to my forehead.
“Swear you will not let anything happen to her,” he said to Hippolyta over my head.
“I swear it, my lord,” Hippolyta answered with another shallow bow. She led me out onto the balcony, then we faced one another and she gently took hold of my forearm. I gripped hers too and closed my eyes against the strange sensation of magyk travel.