Chapter 24 Tegwyn
Tegwyn
I wake with a loud gasp, heart hammering, face sweating as I search the room. “Mother?”
She’s gone. But where?
Slowly, I realise: I’m no longer in the farmhouse; I’m inside some poorly lit cave. Was it all a dream? No, it couldn’t have been.
I can still smell her lavender perfume…
Something moves beside me, and I yelp, bumping my head against a low-hanging ceiling. “Fuck!”
I really hope Mother isn’t here because I just said a bad word. I’ll be grounded for sure.
“Shh. It’s okay, it’s okay…”
Warm hands grip my cheeks, and I finally lock eyes with the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
Blonde, blue-green eyes, and full, kissable lips.
Maybe I died and went to heaven, because I swear I’m looking at an angel right now.
Especially with the way the light surrounds her like a halo.
The angel smiles, and my heart thumps twice as fast. Who is she?
What happened to the farmhouse? What happened to Mother?
My eyes dart around the room again—no, cave—trying to find something familiar, yet my mind keeps drawing blanks. What is this cold, heartless place?
This isn’t home. It’s dark, eerie, and smells of shit. I want my childhood home back; I want my room with its bookshelves.
I want my jars of insects.
Most of all, I want my mother and grandfather back, but they’re not here. That much I can ascertain, and I feel like I’ve swallowed lead. Somehow, I know—they’re ancient history now.
Long gone. Ghosts.
Stalactites hang from the ceiling like the teeth of a great dragon, and I start gasping for breath. I’ve never felt quite so trapped, and a cold, clammy sweat sweeps over my skin, making me queasy. I’m about to be sick.
The blonde places a bowl before me, and I hack up my entrails, filling the cave with the most pleasant sounds.
Once I’m finished, I wipe the puke from my lips, meeting those big sea-green eyes.
They have a beautiful starburst pattern, and my heart does that strange flipping motion again.
It turns out that she’s not an angel after all, but a human girl with the most beautiful golden hair, and for a split second, I think I’m seeing Milly Shoehorn—the cobbler’s daughter.
But she isn’t Milly at all, and that’s when it all comes crashing back.
“I-Ivy?”
My voice is dry and hoarse from retching, but I still whisper her name, regardless. A reserved smile crosses her face, and my heart pounds for the umpteenth time.
That smile… It tips my whole world upside down. She’s even more beautiful than Milly.
“It’s me. H-hi…”
My heart flops heavily in my chest when I hear her voice, and then I stretch out my shaking hand, needing to touch her. She has to be real.
Ivy snatches up my hand, squeezing it tightly with her fingers, and all is right with the world again. She really is here. A lump clogs my throat, and then I find it hard to breathe.
Something awful transpired between us. I can’t recall what, but I know that it has something to do with her guarded smiles.
But before I can get my chance to apologise, she’s shushing me, placing a finger to my lips, and then she encourages me to lie back down.
She places a hand on my forehead, and I close my eyes, melting beneath her careful touch.
She presses a ceramic cup to my mouth, urging me to drink, and the refreshing water soothes my throat. When I’ve had my fill, she places the cup back at my bedside, wiping any residue from my lips.
Our faces are inches apart, yet she doesn’t look me in the eye. She’s too afraid, and I can’t fathom why.
When my memory returns, I shut my eyes, and that’s when a crushing blow more powerful than the rock that knocked me out cold steals my breath. Letting her go had been one of the biggest mistakes of my life.
Pointing that arrow at her head had been one of the most reckless things I have ever done, and I will never forgive myself. The memory of her terrified face will forever haunt me, and I deserve all the pain and suffering that this cruel world has to offer.
She brushes a gentle hand between my horns. “You just rest now. Everything will be okay.”
My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I manage to croak, “I-Ivy, I’m…sorry…”
Her hand freezes. Finally, I brave a glance, and her dewy eyes glisten with tears. They stray down her cheeks, and I want so badly to banish them from her face. But I don’t deserve to touch her again; I don’t even deserve her kindness.
“Let’s just focus on getting you better.”
I shake my head, trying to rise from the bed, yet my body’s spent. “Take whatever you need. I rescind the contract. The necklace is yours, Ivy, no conditions. You are finally free to leave.”
She places her hand on my shoulder, and her small, sweet smile says it all. Ivy isn’t going anywhere, and something comes over me. It fogs my mind, making my vision swirl.
She has decided to stay. Unconditionally. I really don’t deserve her.
She gasps suddenly, reaching up to fix the bandage around my horn, and hold on. Why is my horn bandaged? Carefully, I lift my hand, and my arm shakes when I feel that warm, wet stump.
My horn.
It’s gone.
Panic wraps its steel fingers around my throat, seizing my breath. It’s like I’ve lost a limb…
For so long, my horns were a burden. They marked me as different, but now that I’ve lost one...I feel like I’ve lost half of myself.
My vision swivels, but then she takes my cheeks in her hands, forcing me to gaze into her eyes. “Tegwyn, look at me.”
Her face undulates, and once again, she resembles a mirage. I focus on her starburst eyes, and they remind me of the blue-green of the Aurorae. Yet the Aurorae could never compare.
“Stay with me, Tegwyn. Everything will be fine, I promise.”
I concentrate on her sweet honeysuckle scent, breathing her in.
“You’ve lost quite a lot of blood. I’ve tried everything to staunch the flow, from yarrow leaves, bandages, scarves, but it’s taking its time to clot.”
Figures.
My magic is pretty much gone. Whatever spark remains is just enough to keep me alive. I swallow, my voice thick when I ask, “Where is it?”
She releases a shuddery breath, and I turn my head. “The broken end of my horn.”
Ivy shuts her eyes. “On… on the table...”
Right where I eat my breakfast.
Shudder.
She continues, her words almost incomprehensible. “I’m sorry. If only I hadn’t tried to…you’d still…”
Anger simmers through my veins, and I sit upright, fixing my blazing eyes on her wilted form. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. The fault is mine, Ivy. I was the prick.”
Yet she’s adamant, covering her face with her hands, and a growl slips from my throat. I won’t have her taking the blame for this.
So, I wrench her hands from her face, gripping her wrists as gently as I can. “Don’t ever let me hear you taking the blame again. You are guiltless, Ivy.”
More tears pour down her cheeks, and I track each movement with my eyes, feeling helpless to stop them. I was never the kind to be a shoulder to cry on. The best I can do is crack a joke.
“Hey, cheer up. It might grow back…”
Ivy shakes her head. “Goat horns don’t grow back.”
Goat? Is she serious?
I chuckle. “Are you calling me a goat?”
Despite my poor attempts at humour, a sweet laugh still spills from her lips. “Maybe.”
“Well, you did a splendid job. Thank you.”
I go to tap my bandage, but she bats my hand away, and I guess that’s the end of that conversation. Silence passes between us, and when she chews her lip, I raise a brow. “What is it?”
She settles those enormous eyes on me again, and they really are big. I’m convinced she has faerie blood at times, yet it’s only human blood I smell pumping through her veins. Ivy is all human. Just a ridiculously beautiful one.
“Thank you. For saving my life.”
And there goes my heart again, skipping its beat. Yes, I saved her life, and I would do it again and again. I’d take a thousand rocks to the head if that’s what it took to keep her alive. What is this sensation I’m feeling?
Love?
Faeries rarely love, but when they do find their fated soulmate… Well, they would move entire mountains.
Sometimes in the literal sense, too.
I push the silly notion aside, watching her curiously. Her eyes are shut, as if in prayer.
“Ivy?”
She sighs. “Tegwyn? There’s… something you should know.”
I smile lazily, dozing off once again. “Yes?”
“I’m… I think I’m the missing princess, Ivora. The one from the poster,” she finally whispers.
I take a moment to contemplate. “I know.”
I mean, it was pretty obvious. The resemblance was just too uncanny. But am I surprised that I’ve been harbouring a princess this whole time? Quite frankly, I couldn’t give a shit. It doesn’t change a thing. She will still always be Ivy.
Her breath stutters. “You…you do?”
My shoulders shrug. “Lucky hunch. I mean…Ivy?”
“Yes?”
My lips stretch with a wicked smirk. “I’m Prince Charming…in…in disguise…”
I don’t get to hear her response as sleep consumes me at last, and I’m going to be out for a while.
Still, let her mull over my words for a while. Might give her something to think about.