Chapter 35
“Your braids,” said Eryx tensely, as they stood just outside the Celestian Palace, preparing for their journey to Heims. “They’re Elven.”
“Well,” said Maeve with a small shrug, absently touching her hair, “Zimsy taught me.”
She and Eryx hadn’t spoken since he nearly put a sword through her at the last mention of Zimsy. Neither of them need ask if there was an update. There wasn’t. No news from someone with a gift like Mely’s was good news.
“Zimsy told me a story once of your childhood,” said Eryx as they remained waiting for Drystan and Reeve to bring the horses.
“Oh?” asked Maeve.
Eryx nodded. “She said you were rebelliously independent, and she herself was always being punished for it.”
Acid churned in Maeve’s chest. She didn’t look at Eryx as he continued.
“You wanted to make your own bed, run your own bath, do your own hair. But one day, your mother struck both of you as punishment. And Zimsy said from that day on, you had a common enemy. And you swore to her that she would pay for her sins.”
It was clear to Maeve her friend had spent a decent amount of time with Eryx before Reeve hid him away in self-preservation. And even clearer, as he continued to speak, that he’d paid astute attention to Zimsy.
Eryx was silent for a moment. “I’ve seen the scars on the backs of her arms. So my question is. . . Did you make her pay?”
The thought of Zimsy’s scars and her horrible stand-in mother. . .
Clarrissa Sinclair.
She thought often about her, about her cruelty. Mal had asked Maeve numerous times if she wanted her handled, brought to the court at Castle Morana. But as much as Maeve hated her, there were two distinct factors that stopped her from shattering her fake mother’s mind.
The first was that Maeve wondered what such infidelity would feel like.
What the physical reminder that your husband chose to sleep with another woman would do to you, let alone having to pretend you created, carried, and birthed said child.
None of it was an excuse for her mistreatment.
But it was enough to stop and make her think.
The second, and strongest reason she didn’t kill Clarissa was Arianna. She wouldn’t suffer her sister the loss of another parent.
So all Maeve said was, “I have no idea where she is.”
“How old were you when you swore that?”
“I was eight. It was a Thursday. Zimsy and I played cards afterwards. Then I showed her the spot where Arianna hid her diary.” She paused a moment and smiled, reflecting on that day.
“I refused to let Zimsy make my bed. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the last time I allowed her to be punished in that house by a choice I made.
My mother struck her across the face with the back of her hand.
No magic. Just the physical manifestation of her hatred.
That wasn’t the first time I had seen her hurt Zimsy, but I hadn’t cared.
Zimsy was always trailing me, wanting to help me, annoying me, and I didn’t understand then.
. . After my mother struck Zimsy, she turned to me and hit me so hard across the face, my head spun.
She had never hit me before. And suddenly I understood two things.
The first was that I would never allow Zimsy to be hurt again at my fault.
And the second was that I had made a friend through our mutual hatred of my mother. ”
“And you failed.”
Despite Eryx’s temper being much more in check than it was at their last breakfast, his words still cut deep. For indeed, she had failed. Eryx scoffed as if speaking to her was so beneath him. Maeve smiled, a wicked thought occurring to her.
“You know,” she began, “you should be nicer to me if you want to be with her.”
Eryx frowned.
“Couple bad words from me and who knows,” she continued, sucking in through her teeth, “my best friend might not find you so worthy of her companionship.”
Before Eryx could tell her off, Reeve and Drystan appeared with the horses.
Reeve’s gaze locked on her at once. His eyes traveled from her turtleneck, down the fashionable coat, to the boots at her feet, and back up to her eyes. He wrestled with the smile twisting at his lips.
“You look. . .nice,” he said, fishing for her gratitude.
Gratitude, she wouldn’t give him so early in the morning. For all Maeve knew, the head-to-toe matching luxury winter set just appeared in her room. She held her chin high and remained silent.
“There’s only three horses,” said Eryx.
Maeve’s head whipped to where Drystan stood, with indeed only three horses' reins in his hands. She looked back up at Reeve.
“Something to say?” he asked with false concern as Eryx and Drystan mounted two of the three horses with ease.
“You just think you’re so clever,” she said up at him.
Reeve bent until his nose nearly brushed hers. “What if I just want to feel those clothes I bought you up close?”
“In that case, I’ll take them off,” she quipped, before she realized her mistake.
Reeve’s nose scrunched, exposing all his teeth in a sharp smile. “Even better.”
“I don’t need help riding a horse,” she argued.
“No, I’m certain you ride with a perfected gait,” said Reeve with a mischievous shake of his head. “It’s your inability to protect yourself currently that dictates you’ll be riding with me.”
“I can protect myself fine,” she muttered coolly, knowing it wasn’t true.
Reeve shrugged. “Alright,” he flicked his hand up, and across the crystal courtyard, at a decent distance from them, a glowing symbol appeared. “Hit that with lightning and you can have your own horse.”
Maeve rolled her eyes and stepped towards the remaining horse, knowing she couldn’t do as he instructed, not without proper stimulation.
The gods must have had pity on her in that moment, because Eryx grinned and said, “Damn. She’s not even going to try,” with far too much satisfaction.
Power sparked to life beneath her skin. She whipped around and pointed two fingers at the symbol Reeve conjured, firing on it with a singular electric bolt of bright blue lightning.
Static clung to the air like glue in the aftermath, erasing Eryx’s smug expression.
But Maeve’s brows pulled together and her lips parted in confusion. She had not hit the target. She missed by mere inches. She looked over her shoulder at Reeve. His arm was raised, Magic still lingering on his fingertips.
“That’s not fair,” said Maeve, her outstretched arm dropping to her side.
“Why did you assume your target couldn’t move?” he questioned. “Do you think out there if someone aims to hurt you, they’ll stand perfectly still and wait for someone to piss you off?”
Maeve wanted to punch him for acting like she’d never been in a fight.
Reeve reached for her arm.
“I don’t need help getting on a fucking—”she began, but the words died in her throat as Magic pressed against her, contorting her body against his as her stomach flipped over.
In her next blink, she was straddling the largest of the three horses, and Reeve was flush behind her. Her back straightened at once.
With a sigh, she said, “Can I at least have the reins?”
Reeve reached beneath her arm as a Portal swirled into existence before them, painting a blurry picture of distorted blues and greens, and snow and ice on the other side.
He took the reins in one broad, tattooed hand and pressed his nose against the tip of her ear, his warm breath fanning down her neck.
“No,” he hummed.
His other hand slid flat across her stomach. The bond of Magic between them swirled in warm approval. Slowly and with immense hesitation, she placed her hand over his and relaxed against him.
Heims was colder than she remembered. The freezing assault on her face didn’t last long, though, as Reeve put up a warm shield around them as his Portal swirled closed behind them.
Drystan and Eryx flanked her and Reeve on either side, turning in circles to get a full view of the forest surrounding them.
Thick sheets of snow coated the ground in pure white. Evergreen fans of branches and leaves peeked out from beneath shelves of snow, shooting into the sky. The air itself flurried with drops of ice, which bounced off the shield Reeve kept around them.
There was no path. Reeve maneuvered them between trees and around the underbrush as Drystan and Eryx spread a bit farther from them, expanding their line.
The expanse of the forest stretched as far as she could see in all directions.
And judging by how silent the atmosphere was, she knew they must have been deep in the woodlands of Heims.
“How do you know where they are?” asked Eryx.
“I don’t,” said Reeve. “But they should have felt me the moment we crossed into their lands in the forest.”
“So they are coming to us?” asked Maeve.
“They are,” he answered.
They traveled in silence for so long, venturing deeper and deeper beneath the snowy canopy that when Reeve spoke into her mind, she startled.
See if Mordred is tailing us.
She nodded. “Can I use your mind to jump?” she asked, looking up at him as best she could.
He shook his head.
“Then how?” she asked.
“Jump straight to him,” Reeve answered.
Maeve let out a frustrated sound as they moved between two massive trees. “You’re just set on watching me fail today, aren’t you?”
“You’ve done it before.”
“On accident.”
“Now do it on purpose.”
“If you’d known you were going to have me do this, you could have prepared me. I could have been practicing yesterday instead of listening to you ramble on about yourself—”
The hand splayed on her stomach compressed, bringing her impossibly closer to him. “Quit whining,” he said, but she could hear the smile in his voice, “and do it.”
He released his tightened grip, but his hold on her remained.
Jumping to Mordred, without already being inside a mind, without having access to the pathways between memories and those who shared them, seemed impossible.