She tilted her head back, trying to meet his eyes. He gave her a tight smile, doing a rather poor job of hiding the fact that he was worried about his goose. “What?”
She pointed from him to Elise, then in the direction of the castle.
“You want me to go with her?” He frowned. “But what about you?”
She waved a careless hand.
I’ll be fine. There’s just one more shirt to do, and this way, we don’t have to go back to the castle to get Phoebe. I can just change the princes back and we’ll part ways here. They can go home, and Atlas and I can head up the mountain.
She froze at the train of thought. When had she made up her mind that she was leaving with Atlas?
“Are you sure?” Atlas looked unconvinced. “Phoebe will be fine in a tool shed for a day or two.”
“I’m lost,” Elise interrupted. “Who is Phoebe?”
“Phoebe is my goose. Prince Jacques stole her from me. I came down the mountain looking for her, but I found Lindy instead.”
“Down the mountain,” Elise repeated slowly. “That’s where you live? Up at the top?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them, scrutinizing them both so closely that Lindy began to squirm. “And after you get your goose and Lindy breaks the curse, you’ll take her back with you?”
“It’s not my choice to make.” Atlas’s deep voice was soft and warm. “But I hope so.”
Elise nodded once, letting out a deep breath. “Good.” She gave Lindy a wavering smile. “She deserves someone who will look after her.”
Unable to say anything, Lindy lunged forward and wrapped Elise in a tight hug, trying to communicate through it all her thanks and affection. Elise pulled away, sniffling, and Lindy turned around to look up at Atlas. He took her hand, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of every blistered finger, and she was sure her heart was going to take flight and soar right out of her body. “I’ll be back.” He looked pointedly at the flock of swans. “Keep her safe.”
Lindy nearly snorted at the idea.
I may be the key to breaking their curse, and I know Corbin and I had a…moment…earlier, but I doubt they’d go so far as to protect me from danger. That would imply thatthey cared about my well-being more than just as it benefitted them.
Elise bent down and whispered something to her swan prince, and then she and Atlas disappeared into the trees—a feat which seemed particularly more challenging for the giant. Once they were gone, Lindy breathed out a soundless sigh, turned around, and walked back to the nettles.
One more shirt. We’re almost there.
Knitting by moonlightwas much less relaxing without the light of a fire to see by. Lindy squinted through her tears as she tried to angle her needles to catch as much of the light from the full moon as she could. With Atlas gone, there was neither a fire nor conversation to draw her away from her task, and after hearing Elise’s news, she wanted to finish as quickly as possible.
She paused for a moment, stretching her cramped, aching fingers and breathing deeply. In addition to the angry red rash on her hands, some of the blisters on her fingers had popped and were bleeding, and she could only be thankful that the shirts were not actually meant to be worn as fashion accessories. Her handshurt, and she could only hope that the pain was enough to break the curse.
Wiping the tears from her eyes with the backs of her shaking hands, she blew out a long breath, stealing herself to finish the row of stitches.
Just one more, and then I’ll take a break to find something to eat.
Burning, agonizing pain shot through her fingers as she forced the needles and fibers to cooperate, and by the time she was done with the row, tears were streaming down her face. Desperate for relief, she let the half-finished shirt fall to the ground and staggered to the lake, plunging her hands into the cool water. She sucked in a sharp breath and whimpered at the initial sting, but after a few moments, the itching and burning began to be less noticeable.
White shapes appeared in her peripherals, and she rocked back to rest her weight on her heels while keeping her hands submerged. The swans formed a half-circle around her, with Corbin and Owen flanking her on either side. Jacques swam forward hesitantly with sprigs of some light-colored flower in his beak. He climbed onto the shore beside her and dropped the flowers onto her lap.
“What is this?” Lindy pulled her hands from the water and picked up one of the stems, turning it back and forth to try to get a better view in the moonlight. The end was bruised and crushed where it had been broken by swan beak, and a faint, sweet smell hit her nose.
Jacques grunted and grabbed one of the flowers, pushing the stem against her hand.
She eyed him carefully. “You want me to use it on my hands?”
He honked and bobbed his head up and down.
Lindy looked back andforth from him to the flowers. She was aware enough of botanical remedies to know that there must be some kind of plant that could provide relief for the itchy nettle rash, but she wasn’t knowledgeable enough to actually identify one. Was Jacques?
