The Forest Where the Phoenix Sleeps

Chapter eighteen

a room with mirrors on every wall

I scrounged every scrap of energy left within me, prepared to fight for my life. The mirror in Marlowe’s hand shimmered, and a glow limned the edges. It shone brighter and brighter, until I snapped my eyes shut.

The sensation of falling ripped through my body.

Wind pummeled me and I flailed, trying to grab hold of something. My hands found only open air. A speck appeared far away, a square of light framed against the darkness. It grew as I hurtled toward it. I tore through the frame.

“Hhh!” I slammed into a wooden floor. Scrambling onto my hands and knees, I coughed, and lake water spewed over the floor.

“Eleanor?” An open-mouthed Bowyn sat across the room. I tried not to slip in the puddle as I stood and smoothed my dress. Despite being fully submerged in water, I was, if slightly windswept, bone dry. Bowyn looked at the puddle below me like it was a rotting carcass I’d dragged in.

“Am I…am I on Hiraeth?” I sputtered.

Bowyn peeled his horrified gaze from the puddle. “Well, I should think that was terribly obvious, my love.”

Dragging my hands down my face, I groaned, “Fuuuuuuuuck.” I shook my head and glanced around the room. “Where are we?” If Bowyn weren’t here, I might have thought I’d fallen into a small parlour of Buckingham Palace. Gilded mirrors plastered every wall, and from where I stood, I could see at least three mirrored tables. The thought of seeing myself from so many angles made me sick.

Bowyn sat amongst his many reflections on a silken, amber sofa. He swept his arm around the room. “This is my home.” Bowyn squinted, his eyes set in a suspicious glare. “I thought you went back to Earth.”

“I did!”

Bowyn pointed to an ornate, golden mirror on the ceiling. “How did you get in my mirror?”

I motioned to the mirror. “Is that really necessary?”

“Where’s Darragh?”

“We found your father,” I said, while untangling my hair. “He took me hostage, then tried to kill me—well, not really. I guess he was just sending me back here.” I rubbed my wind ravaged eyes. I suppose Marlowe hoped Darragh would follow me instead of him.

One of the many gilded mirrors swung inward and Darragh rushed into the room.

Bowyn’s mouth fell open. His shock was quickly replaced by a knowing, impish smile. Darragh scanned the room, and his shoulders relaxed when he saw me.

“You found my father?” Bowyn asked. “Did you…?” Darragh shook his head no. I couldn’t tell whether Bowyn was disappointed, or relieved.

Darragh addressed me. “Sasha is going to think you’re spending a suspicious amount of time out of town.”

“Watney?” I asked, rubbing my stomach .

Darragh nodded. “Sasha knows.” The look Darragh gave me next bore an uncomfortable resemblance to the look Sasha might give me after he warned me about a spill, which I acknowledged, but slipped on anyway.

“I’m sorry!” I pointed at Bowyn. “Marlowe didn’t do the eye thing! How was I supposed to know he was going to compel me?”

“I should have known better. Marlowe’s spent a lot of time on Earth. He’s practiced, and he knows how to blend in.” Darragh exhaled. “It could have been a lot worse.” He smiled when he said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Bowyn’s eyes moved hungrily between us, his impish grin growing by the second, then he frowned and turned to Darragh. “Did anyone see you come in?” Darragh glared and flicked his hand in Bowyn’s direction. A gesture I’d learned meant something along the lines of, piss off .

“Nell,” Darragh said. “Can you give us a moment?” It was an order, framed as a question. Bowyn pointed to a door behind me, and I reluctantly left. A curtain-draped, four-poster bed told me this was Bowyn’s bedroom. Robes, shoes, and undergarments littered every surface. A pair of stockings dangled over a grand vanity, which had no fewer than seven mirrors attached. I leaned against the door, hoping to hear Darragh. A familiar, high-pitched whine teased my ears. Darragh and Bowyn’s voices snapped into sharp focus, as if I were right beside them.

Darragh’s voice said, “Take care of her. Do not leave her side. If she goes anywhere, you go with her.”

“I’m not a babysitter, and she’s not a child,” Bowyn snapped. “She’s more capable than you give her credit for. Take her with you.”

“No,” Darragh growled. “And if anything happens to me, get her back to Earth.”

Arms slid around my waist, and I yelped. A sultry voice whispered, “Don’t be frightened.” Before I could react, the attacker ripped away from me. He flew across the room and crashed through a post supporting the canopy above Bowyn’s bed. The other posts caved in, and the entire canopy collapsed. The door to the bedroom blew open and Darragh burst in. Bowyn followed quickly behind.

“Oh, that’s nice!” Bowyn shouted, running to his bed.

“Did he hurt you?” Darragh asked.

Bowyn asked the unknown person the same question.

“I’m fine,” I replied.

“There, there, my pet.” Bowyn pulled the man from his bed. Wearing only short white braies, he was a very pretty man, slight and delicate next to Bowyn. My eyes lingered on his toned stomach.

Darragh thrust a finger at the mystery man. “Who’s this?”

Bowyn stood tall and wrapped a protective arm around the man. “This is Lewy, he’s my…” Bowyn looked guiltily at Lewy and then back to Darragh. “Chef?” Lewy crossed his arms, looking very unimpressed. “Lewy, why don’t you head home?” Bowyn steered Lewy to the door. “I’ll come visit you when I can.”

Lewy looked Darragh up and down. He sneered, “How dare you come here.”

Darragh reached for Lewy and Bowyn jumped between them. “Alright! Lewy is leaving now!” Bowyn guided Lewy to the front door. Before he opened it, he cupped Lewy’s face and his eyes shone silver. “You didn’t see them here.”

Lewy nodded slowly.

“If you’re sore tomorrow, it’s because you and I had a little too much fun.” Bowyn booped Lewy’s nose. “Isn’t that right?”

Lewy nodded again.

“Stupendous.” Bowyn kissed Lewy, then opened the door and shoved him out. Bowyn brushed his hands against one another, as if he’d just cleaned up an arduous mess. “To be quite honest,” Bowyn said, and raised his palms apologetically, “I forgot he was here.” I stifled a laugh, but furious heat radiated from Darragh.

“I need to leave,” Darragh snarled. “Bowyn will escort you to my cottage.”

“Can’t I go with you?”

“No,” Darragh snapped back.

“But I—”

“No,” Darragh cut me off. “You will go with Bowyn.”

Even Bowyn cringed at Darragh’s tone. Bowyn raised a finger and started to speak.

“I’ll make certain no one witnesses my departure,” Darragh said before Bowyn could get a word out. To me, he added, “Go with Bowyn. When I return, we’ll work on a plan to get you back to Earth.”

Only one word left my lips: “Fine.”

Bowyn flinched. He muttered that he’d find me an outfit and disappeared into the bedroom. Darragh and I stood in silence. Bowyn returned with clothing, simple black boots, taupe trousers, and a too-big white shirt.

“I’m sorry I don’t have a grand selection of clothing for you, but these are passably fashionable.”

In the bedroom, I changed and braided my hair. When I returned, Darragh said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.”

Bowyn raised his eyebrows hopefully. When he saw that we were altogether finished our lacklustre goodbye, he pointed to the door. “You head downstairs, and I’ll be right after you, my love.”

On the other side of the door, several sets of steep, covered stairs led down to the street. I reached the landing below Bowyn’s just as the door opened for that level. Wearing a silky, purple robe, Lewy leaned on the frame and smiled. Smoke and gentle, satisfied moans wafted from behind him. Tracing a finger along his chest, Lewy asked, “How are you?”

As if summoned, Bowyn’s door burst open. He barreled down the stairs, shouting, “Oh no, no, no!” Bowyn grabbed my arm and eased me away from Lewy. “She’s with me.”

Lewy pursed his lips and pouted. “Perhaps I could see you both?”

“As much as I believe my dear Eleanor is in desperate need of your services, I’m afraid we must decline.” Bowyn placed another firm kiss on Lewy’s lips. “I’ll see you later, pet.” Lewy responded with a drunken, sultry smirk and went back inside.

“Are you sure we don’t have time?” I asked innocently.

Bowyn whirled on me.

A large thud echoed from the floor above, as if someone was listening to us, and dropped a heavy object in surprise. Bowyn’s eyes flitted up, and back to me. His lips spread into a fiendish grin. “You’re full of surprises.” He winked and raised his voice. “When I return, I may not be alone. Miss Eleanor has informed me she’d much love an evening in your company.” Bowyn took my arm. “Come quickly, let us flee before I combust!”

I hurried after Bowyn. “You live above a brothel?”

Bowyn put a hand to his chest. “You know Lewy really is a marvelous cook, among other things.” As we headed down the remaining stairs, Bowyn continued. “You must forgive my sweet Darragh’s boorish behavior. He means well but, we can’t all be as charming as yours truly.” Bowyn’s eyebrows performed a seductive wiggle, and silver flashed across his pupils.

We exited onto a cobbled street lined by tidy thatched buildings. The cream-coloured walls crisscrossed with dark wooden beams reminded me of medieval Europe. Though these buildings were much taller; I craned my neck to see the tops. Some of them had to be seven or eight stories high. They teetered at angles that left me cautiously glancing up .

A bakery sat next to Bowyn’s building. A large, stone oven opened onto the street and the aroma of fresh baking filled the air. It left me craving thick butter slathered on warm bread. Bowyn made like a little teapot and motioned for me to take his arm, which I did. People bustled around us, they parted for Bowyn as if he were a rock in a stream. It seemed strange. I’d only seen the wild, uninhabited landscapes of Hiraeth. I hadn’t imagined bustling towns. The tidiness of it all surprised me as well. The towns in the Middle Ages were foul-smelling, refuse-littered cesspools, weren’t they? I mean, people emptied their chamber pots into the street.

I eyed the windows in the tall buildings and scooched closer to Bowyn.

We’d made it only a few feet before a woman stopped Bowyn. A ravishing strawberry blonde, she grazed Bowyn’s free arm. Standing on her toes, the woman whispered in Bowyn’s ear. “Oh, my!” Bowyn laughed. “Well, I’m not available this evening, but you’ll be the first to know when I’m back in town.” The woman trailed her fingers along Bowyn’s arm and strolled away. Bowyn shook his head, reorienting himself. “Anyway, pardon the interruption, my love.” Bowyn pointed to the cobbled street. “You are currently walking down the main street of Wilbur. It is the last town before Shadow Peak, the Queen’s mountain. That’s why you see so many inns littered about. I swear there’s a new one popping up every week. The Ivy, that’s the establishment I live above, is the oldest inn in town. I’ve lived there for quite some time now, though I have my run-ins with the brothel owner on the sixth story, Mal. Says I distract the boys…” I zoned out, hearing Bowyn, but not hearing Bowyn. We passed a seamstress, where invisible hands stitched a gown in the window. I could have watched it for hours, but Bowyn, who thought it was dreadfully dull, dragged me away. He pointed to an apothecary. “That’s where I bring Darragh’s flowery bits and bobs.”

Three more ‘patients’ halted Bowyn as we walked. I didn’t mind so much; it gave me time to examine all the delightful shops. A glazier, a sweet shop, a potter—Bowyn stopped someone obscured by a cloak. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” he asked.

The mystery person pulled the cloak away, revealing herself to be a young girl. She tucked perfect white curls behind her ear. “Shouldn’t you?” Looking Bowyn up and down, she said, “Surely you’re not coming dressed like that .”

Bowyn’s mouth dropped open and he blinked twice.

“Where’s Darragh?” the girl asked.

Bowyn examined his fingernails. “Don’t know.” He stuck his nose up. “If you’ll excuse us, apparently I have some getting ready to do.” The girl shot Bowyn an ugly glare and stormed away.

“Who was she?” I watched her go.

“The Queen’s daughter, Elwyn.”

“Oh! Should I have…bowed?”

“No,” Bowyn snorted. “Certainly not to her.” He pursed his lips and said, “She looked awfully tired, didn’t she? It certainly doesn’t become her.”

I never thought I’d see Bowyn jealous.

“You don’t like her?” I asked.

Bowyn looked around to make sure no one could hear us. “I don’t dislike her. I’m just not necessarily fond of her. I feel about her, how someone might feel about their best friend’s baby sister. Growing up, she was always trying to tag along and spoil my and Darragh’s fun.”

“Why’d she ask about Darragh?”

Bowyn’s eyes narrowed mischievously. He elbowed me and asked, “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” I replied quickly. I side-eyed Bowyn. “Are they going somewhere tonight?”

“Yes. There’s a ball at the mountain. ”

“Oh.” A hideous pang of envy swept through me.

Why didn’t Darragh want me to go?

“Elwyn’s very pretty,” I said.

“ Very pretty,” Bowyn remarked.

The last shop we passed was filled with shiny spyglasses. Bowyn sneered and said, “Astronomer.” He quickened his pace as we walked by. The remaining buildings gave way to a charred, burnt section of town.

No one walked here.

“Was there a fire?” I wiped a spot of ash from my boot.

“The Queen lights it periodically.”

“Why?”

“A reminder.”

“A reminder of what?”

Bowyn’s eyes bugged like he’d spoken words he shouldn’t have. His face turned as red as his robe while he flipped through excuses in his head.

“Just tell me,” I said dryly.

Bowyn exhaled and spoke quickly. “Darragh burned it down.”

“What?!”

Ignoring me, Bowyn pointed ahead. “Look, we’re almost out of town.” His brute strength carried me forward, but I managed to yank my arm away.

“Bowyn! What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Bowyn whined.

“We’ve got a long walk.”

Bowyn frowned. He muttered, “Follow me,” and headed down a charred side street. We hadn’t gone far when Bowyn halted and pointed to a rough set of squares rising only a few inches from the ground.

“Darragh used to live here.”

“Really?”

“One night when Darragh was young, while sleeping comfortably, he had a terrible nightmare. The terror consumed him, and he burned while he slept. The fire devoured his home”—Bowyn paused, deciding how truthful he needed to be—“and his parents.”

“Oh, no.”

Bowyn gave a half-hearted nod. “Someone breached the flames and calmed Darragh, but not before the fire destroyed half the village.”

My heart ached as I examined the footprint of the old house, the only remains of Darragh’s home.

“The Queen’s guardians came for him the next morning. He was six.” Bowyn shivered. “The energy here is repugnant; let us talk on our journey.” We left the ruins and Bowyn said, “It was obvious Darragh had inherited his mother’s gift from the sun, and he didn’t really have a choice but to serve the Queen.”

“Gift from the sun?”

“We all draw our energy from somewhere. The breeze, running water, the moon and stars.” Bowyn put a hand to his chest, indicating himself. “Other people.” He continued, “Darragh draws his strength and energy from the sun. Just like his mother, he was born with the ability to summon and control fire. Though it was clear from the start he was considerably more powerful. Being able to control fire; it’s a terrifying and destructive power. Darragh hates it, always has. He tried to suppress it, hide it away. After the town fire, well, there was no hiding it anymore, and no one left to help him. The Queen plucked Darragh from his home and perfected those very talents he despised, training him against his will.”

“So, the Queen burns down half the town to remind the people?”

“Darragh works for her. The Queen wants them to remember. She wants them to be afraid.”

“That’s all so sad,” I mumbled. “ That’s why he lives out there all alone?”

“Darragh is not welcome in town.” Bowyn sighed. “That’s why I must trek all the way out to meet him. The townspeople fear him, and deep down, Darragh knows they’re right to be afraid. Look what happened the last time.”

In my heart, I felt a sudden leap of sympathy for Darragh—for the outsider . “He was a child. Surely people can understand that?”

Bowyn shrugged. “If you go too near a fire and burn yourself, you’ll think twice before you go near it again.”

“I guess.” I kicked a stone along the cobble path. “But he also heals people, right?”

“Yes!” Bowyn squeezed my arm. “You’re absolutely right. On one hand, Darragh is fire and death, but on the other, he is light and life. The sun nurtures, it sustains, it gives life. Without light, things cannot grow. And Darragh’s father, though rather basic, had quite the penchant for healing. Despite the Queen’s attempt to crush that part of Darragh, he’s continued to practice.” Bowyn frowned. “Unfortunately, now that he’s grown, that’s the gift he has to hide.”

***

A stark contrast to Darragh, there wasn’t a moment of silence with Bowyn. “Do you know what they call this place?” Bowyn gestured toward the wood that led to Darragh’s cottage.

“No, what?”

“The forest where the phoenix sleeps. Few people will tread here.”

I recalled the vision I’d seen when I’d entered the first time. “Did the villagers set that warning up?”

“No.” Bowyn chuckled. “My dear Darragh did.”

“Back home, we tell stories about witches who live in forests like this.”

“What’s a witch? ”

“Someone with magic, someone powerful.”

“Darragh’s a sweet witch,” Bowyn replied. “What happens to witches back home?”

I hesitated. “We burn them.”

We drew near Darragh’s cottage, and Bowyn chattered on about the ball. “We used to celebrate out by the Aeonian wood, how enchanting it was! A sound master used to bring real birds to sing. And the food.” Bowyn put a hand to his chest. “Oh, Nell, the food is exquisite. It’s a cheat day for sure. And the dancing!” Bowyn stretched his arms out and spun with an invisible suitor. “We said goodbye to the sunshine and celebrated by the fire, and there were enormous displays of light in the sky. And the gowns! The ladies dress so splendidly, I was always terribly envious.” I half-listened to Bowyn, reluctant to learn about a ball I wasn’t allowed to attend. To be honest, I looked forward to a warm drink, a snack, and a soak in that big copper tub.

“Of course, you’ll see all this tonight.”

“Wait—what?” I replayed Bowyn’s last sentence. I pointed in front of us. “I’m going back to the cottage.”

“Of course.” Bowyn laughed. “You have to get ready.”

“What do you mean, get ready?” I stared at him. “I’m not going.”

“Not—not going?!” Bowyn’s left hand clutched his chest, while the other reached for me. “But there will be dancing, and food, and drinks, and such beautiful people!”

“There’s food at the cottage.” I dodged Bowyn. “And dancing? With people? Bowyn, you don’t know me at all.”

“You owe it to yourself to go!”

“You only want me to go so Darragh doesn’t light you like a candle when he finds out you ditched me to go to some party.”

“S—some party,” Bowyn stuttered. He stamped his foot and cried. “ The light ball isn’t just some party!”

Through the tree trunks, the cottage appeared in the distance. “Where are the mean nettles?” I asked. An utterly panicked Bowyn stopped long enough to examine the ground. He lifted his left leg over an unassuming patch of underbrush, but kept his right leg planted. Straddling the vines, he reached for me. I obliged, and he lifted me and placed me on the other side.

Did this make me feel like a tiny baby? Yes.

Did you get stung by the vines on your way in? No. Don’t judge me.

I beelined for the cottage. Bowyn called out, “You’re not the only one trying to bed him, you know.”

My jaw dropped, and I whirled on Bowyn. “Excuse me?”

Bowyn picked dirt from beneath his nail, a despicable, smug smile on his face. He pursed his lips. “I’m sure Elwyn and Darragh will have a lovely evening together.”

Darragh’s words echoed in my head. “ Never listen to Bowyn .”

Just go back to the cottage , I told myself. Have a nice, relaxing night. Darragh will be back soon enough, and I can focus on getting home.

My thoughts wandered to Elwyn, and the pang of jealousy when she’d said Darragh’s name.

“What would I even wear?”