Chapter 16 #2
When her fingers met his skin, a parade of images overwhelmed her.
A silver-blond child dashed through the halls of a castle, pursued by a woman in a delicate golden gown and a man in green velvet.
The man had Thornwood’s angular face, and the woman had his crooked smile.
Mouse drifted between them, a ghost inside the memory, and she was the only one to notice the mist as it rose to obscure the couple.
Anxiety crawled in Mouse’s belly.
The boy turned around a corner, and she was compelled to follow.
As he ran, the child aged until a fully grown Thornwood stopped and ducked into a low door that appeared in the mist. The smell of coffee filled the air, paired with woodsmoke and perfume. Thornwood stood at the center of a group of delicately featured Faeries. His cheek was unscarred.
The Faeries wore silk and powdered wigs, and their cups glowed in their hands with a vast spectrum of faceted light. Thornwood’s cutting smile was sharp as he spoke.
“The Faerie King best be careful. He makes more enemies than friends with his obsession with old houses and his contempt for humans. Look what happened to his daughter.”
“Brave words,” one of the other Faeries cut in. The Faerie man had a pipe made of something that looked eerily like bone. “But your father was summoned to meet with the King today and has yet to return.”
Thornwood snorted, but Mouse saw his hand tighten around his cup. On his finger was his jeweled ring. The gem glinted in the light, unbroken. “They often speak late into the night.”
One of the Faerie women tittered, rolling her cup in her hands. “The King is displeased with him. We all know it. Your mother won’t fare much better than he will.”
“Nor will you,” the Faerie with the pipe interjected. “With all your talk of mortals and treason against the King.”
“Treason?” Thornwood said icily. “The King has always listened to my father’s advice. I say only what my father says. It is hardly treason.”
“Things change,” another Faerie woman said. “As you said, the King has lost his daughter. That alters a man.”
“We have been loyal subjects and friends. The King knows that.”
The group fractured, breaking into pairs and leaving Thornwood alone.
His companions faded, replaced by twisted trees. Thornwood was running, his clothes catching on the outstretched branches. Mouse followed.
His gaze darted behind him. Mouse looked back and saw a fan of shadows following.
Bolts of colorful magic whizzed by, and she gasped.
A lightning bolt dashed across Thornwood’s face, leaving a bleeding streak that Mouse recognized as his white scar.
He turned toward his assailants, his hands outstretched.
A bolt hit him, ricocheting through his body, and the world flashed red.
When the color faded, Thornwood stood frozen in stone, his arms still held out in front of him and the ring on his finger splintered.
Despite her horror, Mouse took in Thornwood’s form in fascination.
She’d never seen Dante’s full form as a statue, but here he was whole and uncovered by moss.
She reached out to him, pressing her fingers against the crack in his chest.
His eyes snapped open and met hers. The images around them shattered, and they were in the well beneath the water.
As soon as the vision cleared, Mouse grabbed Thornwood by the shoulder, and he clutched at her, taking in her urgent expression before his gaze drifted downward.
Mouse squeezed his hand thrice. The signal cut through his daze, and he pulled them both up to the surface.
She was dazed as well, and her heart hammered in her chest, both from holding her breath so long and from the stress of his vision.
Although she was not the one attacked by the Faeries, she felt like a hare running from a fox.
“What happened?” he asked, and Mouse glared at him as she panted.
“I believe the spell caught you, although that’s your area of expertise. While you’ve been trapped, I have been turning to stone as I try to save our lives.”
“A mermaid statue, I presume?” he said.
Mouse followed his gaze, but the mermaid statue was not there. “How did you know?” she asked.
“You have a tail,” Thornwood said.
Mouse gasped, looking down at herself. From the waist up, she was still flesh, but at her hips her legs had morphed together, and her feet had fused into a stone fin.
“We have to get out of here,” she cried.
“There is a gear on the well bed with a strong magical signature emanating from it. I saw it before the spell caught me.”
“And you think that’s the way out?”
“It is our only option. You will not be able to climb up those stairs as you are now.”
The logistics of climbing back up to the pavilion had not even occurred to Mouse. She moaned, burying her face in her hands. Her palms were rough as sandpaper against her cheeks. She could not make herself inspect them for a color change.
“Down to the bottom it is,” she said.
One benefit of turning to stone was the built-in anchor. All Mouse had to do was stop moving her arms, and she would sink straight down.
“That will have to do,” Thornwood said as he took hold of her shoulder. “Remember to stay calm. If you panic, you will lose hold of your breath.”
“Easy for you to say. You can stay under the water indefinitely.”
“It’s lucky that you have this fin. Are you sure you do not want to keep it? You make a fetching mermaid,” he said, his tone light.
Mouse glared at him, and he smiled.
With a last gulp of air, Mouse stopped treading water, and they descended with their hands locked.
They touched down next to the gear, rusted and green with time.
They each took hold of its spokes and turned it, putting all their weight into the effort.
Mouse felt lighter, as though the water itself was supporting her hips.
The gear gave way easily, and their eyes met.
Thornwood nodded toward her arms, and she looked down to find her elbows dusted in gray scales.
Dread filled her, which she caught and forced back into her stomach. Thornwood pushed harder, and Mouse matched him. When the gear ground to a halt, Mouse could see a circle of light through the metal, large enough for a person to slip through.
A shadow passed above, and Mouse looked up to find the mermaid statue barreling toward them, needle teeth bared. Mouse jerked in alarm. The current under the gear pulled on her torso, and she reached out to Thornwood. He clasped onto her elbows, and they ducked into the hole.
The tunnel was tight, and Mouse trailed behind him. Her lungs rebelled. She tried hard not to think of how long the tunnel might be or what might be waiting for her on the other side. Or if the mermaid was chasing them.
The disk of light grew as they came closer, and Mouse could see wobbling green shapes on the other side. The current’s pull was stronger the closer they came to the end of the tunnel.
They passed through the opening and swam directly into a forest of water lilies. Mouse struggled upward, desperate for oxygen, only to find the surface at her fingertips.
Air burned her throat and lungs, and the stink of pond must overwhelmed her, but she was too grateful to care. They were back in the garden pool.
“Are you all right?” Thornwood asked.
She tried to stand and found that her tail had split back into legs, and the gray was fading from her arms.
“I may never be all right again,” she said. “I’m going to have dreams about turning into a fish for the rest of my life.”
Mouse realized he was still holding her hand at the same time he did. They parted with sheepish smiles.
“Did you feel the magic leading back to the house break?” Mouse asked.
“Yes, as soon as you popped back up to the surface. I think the magic’s goal was to trap us down there, then use us to continue to feed the spell. We broke it by escaping.”
“Ugh, I will never go near this pond again.”
“That one was a bit simpler than a dragon in a doorless room,” Thornwood said, although his cheeks were bloodless.
“For some of us! All you did was take a nap.”
Cold fingers closed around Mouse’s ankle, dragging her back beneath the water lilies. Her shocked gasp filled her lungs with water as the light pond gave way to the dark tunnel. Water stung in her throat.
The murkiness cleared enough to reveal the mermaid statue. It dug its nails into Mouse’s leg, and she clamped down on a pained scream.
Gray scales formed again around the mermaid’s fingers, rippling up Mouse’s legs. She saw Thornwood dive into the water above them, but the mermaid had dragged her back through the tunnel in seconds.
Mouse jerked, the fear of certain stony doom fueling her. She kicked, and her free foot landed squarely on the mermaid’s face. Its nose cracked down the middle, and thick black blood seeped out into the water.
Mouse swam desperately back to the light. As soon as she was through the tunnel, hands hooked under her arms and lifted her bodily from the pool.
“Breathe,” Thornwood insisted as she sputtered. He dragged her several feet onto the lawn before she found her footing. They leaned into each other, eyes glued to the water’s edge.
After a few tense moments, the mermaid raised its head from under a lily pad.
“My replacement,” it croaked. It raised its hands above its head. A web of cracks flowed from its fingers to its shoulders. “Come back.”
“There is no need for us to stay for this,” Thornwood said. He turned toward Thistlemarsh.
“Wait.”
Thornwood tilted his head. “You don’t want to adopt this one, too, do you?”
“Of course not!” Mouse snapped. She looked back to the crumbling statue and called out to it. “Your job is done. You don’t need a replacement.”
“Free me,” it gasped.
“You are already free. We escaped from your trap, I’m not turning to stone, and the spell you cast on Thornwood is broken.”
“Whatever magic was here is gone. There is nothing left for you to guard,” Thornwood said.