Chapter 17 Awakening
Awakening
Elizabeth gripped the reins as she mounted Draugr, jaw set with determination.
Draugr walked around the paddock without incident, but when she urged him to trot by gently kneeing his sides, every step nearly threw her from the saddle.
The stallion obeyed—barely—while making his displeasure known with each bone-rattling stride.
He seemed determined to make the ride as bumpy and unpleasant as possible.
A squirrel darted across the field, and Draugr reared, hooves flailing in the air, before crashing down with such force that she was nearly unseated. Elizabeth was forced to lean forward in the saddle, clinging to his mane until he settled.
“I think that’s enough for today,” she muttered, dismounting.
Overhead, the clouds were dispersing, leaving behind a wide-open sky. The sunlight looked alien and made the forest and fields’ colours seem brighter and more vivid. The sun warmed her back as she led Draugr back inside.
Grudgingly, she fed him an apple, and he snorted hot breath in her face, ears perked forward with what looked suspiciously like smugness. What an evil creature. Perhaps he deserved to be given away or put down for his poor temperament.
But the day wasn’t entirely lost.
Sunlight streamed in through the stable door—the first sunny day she had seen here. Despite Draugr’s antics, the weather lifted her mood, and she saddled up Buttercup and set off, eager for a ride in the sunshine.
She led Buttercup up a game trail she found and into the foothills of a mountain. They walked as far as they could up the narrow trail, then, struck by a sudden desire to make it to the top, she dismounted and led Buttercup on foot.
The trail brought them to a glacier lake, high up in the mountains. The air grew crisp and chilly. Her cotton dress was ill-suited for the temperature, and goosebumps pebbled her skin. Rubbing her arms a little, she hitched Buttercup to a tee and went to explore.
She approached the water’s edge and was filled with a sense of wonder.
The lake was filled with vibrant turquoise water.
The colour was so vivid that it didn’t even look real.
The lake was surrounded by pine trees that cast a green hue over it, and in the distance, mountains were capped with snow, even in the height of summer.
On a whim, she stuck her hand in the water and snatched her fingers back, yelping. The water was cold as ice.
She walked along the rocky shore and found a large boulder to sit on.
A disturbance at the far end of the turquoise water caught her attention.
Small shapes with fluttering wings skimmed about the surface of the water.
Elizabeth spotted three figures leaping over the waves.
At first, she thought they were hummingbirds, but when she looked closer, they were tiny, humanoid creatures with wings.
They were blue, hardly bigger than a hand, with wings that shimmered like starlight.
One flew upwards, corkscrewing in the air, before plunging back into the icy water.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” said a male voice from behind her.
She spun, shocked. A blond angel stood there. The same angel Fiza had warned her not to tangle with. Ambriel, Fiza had called him.
“Yes, they really are. What are they?” she asked tentatively.
“Water sprites.”
“The forest seems so full of magic here.” Elizabeth stared in awe at the water sprites playing. “I’ve never seen anything like this back home.”
Ambriel smiled kindly at her, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
He was the embodiment of goodness and everything right in the world. Her entire upbringing told her to trust him, and after living with demons and walking on eggshells for so long, the relief she felt was almost staggering.
“Why are they here?” she asked eagerly.
“There is magic here,” the angel said, returning her smile. “Like calls to like.” His features were so ethereal, his smile so benevolent and kind—it was hard not to look at him and sigh.
What he said made no sense to her, so she smiled politely and waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, she asked, “Can you tell me more about magic? What does having magic feel like?”
“You feel it in here.” Ambriel took her hand and, before she could react, placed her palm against his chest. Where his chest should have been warm with body heat, it was cool.
His skin was poreless and nearly glowing—reminders that he was not of this earth.
She could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, through the layers of white fabric.
“When your magic awakens and you use it, it feels like your very spirit comes alive and burns with fire from within you.”
“Fascinating,” she said in a daze.
His hand held her fingers to his chest.
“It’s too bad all the books were burned long ago. Magic seems to be a major part of our history, and yet I know nothing about it,” she admitted.
“As a proper lady, I would’ve been surprised if you had ever seen magic before coming here,” Ambriel said, looking at her fondly.
Sunlight danced off the turquoise water. She inhaled the heavy smell of pine. It was beautiful here, peaceful.
Silence stretched between them. Finally, she said, “I’m surrounded by demons, and I don’t know anything about magic. It makes me worried that I’m ill-equipped to be here.” She paused. “If I needed to defend myself against them, if one of them attacked me, I’d be powerless.”
Ambriel nodded regally. “It is a possibility.” He paused. “If I may?”
She nodded, gesturing for him to continue. “Of course, Ambriel. You can say anything you like.”
“No good can come from consorting with demons. Run far, far away if you can. They have a habit of saying one thing and meaning another entirely. All of history is riddled with legends and myths of those who made deals with demons only to regret it.”
“I cannot,” she said sadly. She met his crisp, pale blue eyes, so pale they were almost white. His eyes seemed old, as if they held ancient wisdom despite his youthful face. They pierced her soul and made her feel like she couldn’t lie to him even if she wanted to.
“I feel lost.” She looked away, and her voice cracked with vulnerability. “I can’t return home—not to a family that would trade me off to a horrible man—but staying here…” She gestured helplessly at the forest around him. “I don’t know what will happen to me here, and that terrifies me.”
He nodded consolingly. The angel radiated quiet understanding and solidarity, and she drew strength from it.
“You have a brave heart.”
She smiled sadly.
“If I may?” he asked, lifting a hand towards her.
She tensed, growing uneasy. What did he want?
Tentatively, she glanced at his wings and sincere eyes, and nodded.
He placed a hand on her chest, though the gesture was more clinical than romantic, and brought his face close to hers.
“What—”
He interrupted her by speaking a series of words in that same, guttural language, and she felt something come loose deep within her soul. Like something solid had stretched until it collapsed in on itself. Every muscle in her body went taut and then loosened all at once.
Suddenly, she fell to the ground, twitching and gasping for air.
That hurt.
The world turned sideways, and she tasted copper. She clutched her chest, her breathing coming in ragged gasps. She glared at the angel.
He seemed unsurprised by her reaction.
“Ambriel. What did you do to me? What was that?”
Ambriel stepped away from her. “A gift. For a mortal woman surrounded by demons. Do not trust them. They are all creatures born of darkness. Leave as soon as you can.”
The angel inclined his head towards her, and, with several great beats of his wings, he was gone.
She was completely mystified.
What in the Seven Hells had happened to her? Had she just been blessed?
Trudging back to the castle, she was unusually exhausted. She nearly nodded off in the saddle twice. When she returned to her chambers, she collapsed on her bed and slept the rest of the day, not even bothering to change out of her riding clothes.
***
“Are you feeling quite alright, Lady Elizabeth?” Fiza asked with a concerned smile. “You’re looking a little peaky.”
“Yes, sorry.”
Elizabeth breathed deeply and tried to act normal.
Fiza returned to curling Elizabeth’s hair for dinner, leaving it cascading down her back in soft waves. She applied rouge to her cheeks and a little face paint to make her eyes look darker, and more mysterious.
Tonight, she was dressed in a dark forest green gown.
Elizabeth had wrinkled her nose in distaste when she had seen it.
This kingdom seemed to hate colour and anything that looked remotely cheerful.
The gown had a plunging neckline, one more daring than she’d typically wear.
Her cleavage threatened to burst free from her corset.
As she entered the great hall, Caspian was speaking in Common with Finnigan and Asmodeus.
Finnigan caught sight of her and snapped, “Schtédja.” Jerking his head in her direction, he added, “Hvísar níhaudth, drómadthr est enthída.”
She took her usual seat at the table and did not need to speak their language to know that Finnigan had just told them to stop talking. As if she cared for their affairs.
A flash of annoyance radiating off Caspian made her blink, staring around the room like a halfwit.
Nervously, she rested her hand on the table, and Caspian brushed her fingertips with his. “Is everything alright?” he asked, a look of concern crossing his face.
The moment his skin touched hers, Elizabeth’s vision blurred, and she looked away. The candlelit hall wavered like a heat mirage, and then suddenly, she wasn’t looking into his eyes anymore.
The image of his face was the last thing she saw clearly as she felt the strangest sensation, as if the ground were sliding out from under her.
When she blinked, she saw her. She was looking at a profile of herself, as if seeing herself through Caspian’s eyes.