“Where can I find her?” I repeated, my voice taut.
Another shrill cackle. “There is a forest near this castle. She lives in a clearing in the deepest part of the woods. Follow the holly trees, they will lead you to her.” Once more, her figure began to fade.
“Can’t you tell me anything more?” I implored, desperate for her to keep talking.
“I’m certain I could, but I have given you much of my time already. I’ll return the moment the full moon can be glimpsed in the night sky. Until then…”
“Wait—”
Like an assassin in the shadows, she was gone.
Chapter 28
The next day crawled by uneventfully. I couldn’t sit still. I spent aimless hours pacing the bedchamber, flinching at every sound that came through the barrier of the shut door.
It hardly mattered that the bedchamber was an adequate size, it was suffocating. I felt like a caged animal, and my body responded with waves of panic. With every fresh surge, my breaths became shallow, my sweat grew cold, and my heart sprinted as if trying to get away.
It didn’t help that my clamorous mind refused to settle. It kept replaying the events of the past twenty-four hours, agonizing over every decision, every possible misstep I had made, and torturing myself with the unanswerable question,how did I get here?
Once I was certain I had begun to wear a path in the rug, I forced myself to sit down at the breakfast table and rummage through the pile of books I’d retrieved from the library the day before.
Amongst them was a collection of fairy tales and folklore from across Anerdor. I opened it and scanned through the pages. It was filled with illustrations, although the palette was conservative in its use of colors, and the images were somewhat rudimentary. Still, I forced myself to read.
Many of the stories were about mortals turning to Velcarinor witches to help solve their problems, which often revolved around love. Almost all of these tales ended in tragedy; a clear warning to mortals against involving themselves with magical beings. Stay away or pay the ultimate price.
While magic was seemingly reviled by their kind, for magical beings it was a divine gift, a blessing from the goddesses to be embraced. In Vantillios, it was our ally, facilitating our daily existence. Even the home I lived in was touched by magic. Crafted entirely from aquamarine, Vellamere Palace was commissioned by Vell herself when the goddesses still roamed Orradon. Remnants of the goddess’s magic were as much of a fixture as the furniture.
I knew the mortals’ perception of magic and magical beings wasn’t exactly favorable, and it had never bothered me before. But, now that I’d met a handful of mortals, I couldn’t help but think about what they would do if they ever learned what I was. Would they fear me? Hate me? Think of me as just another wicked Velcarin to avoid?
The thought of Tarben hating me made my chest feel heavy. I didn’t know why I cared. He’d probably come to hate me after I broke his heart anyway. It mattered little what he thought of me after the full moon.
I would forget all about him once I was back in Vantillios. I needed to keep reminding myself of that.
A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Oh Alara! Isn’t it awful?” announced Amalie as she flew into my bedchamber, followed by her lady’s maid.
I stood and gave her a hesitant hug. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to notice my discomfort.
“I’m so sorry about Prince Hugo. Is he awake?” I was anxious for an update. I needed to know if he was going to continue his vendetta against me. I asked the guards, but they wouldn’t tell me anything.
“Not yet.” Her eyes welled up. “I can’t believe someone would do something so ghastly to him. And if it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have…” Her sentence trailed off into sobs. Once more, she flung her arms around me.
I tried to keep the horror from my face. I was terrible at this sort of thing. How could I possibly comfort this child? My mind seemed to empty of anything even remotely helpful to say, so, instead, I stroked her silky curls and hummed a sympathetic noise.
Eventually, she pulled away and accepted the handkerchief her lady’s maid held out for her. “You truly are a hero, Alara,” she sniffed. “Like from a story.”
In contrived humility, I began to protest, but she continued. “And when I found out that Captain Hansen was keeping you here like a… like a common criminal,” she spat the words out, “I simply couldn’t believe it. I went straight to my father and told him. He was furious. He ordered the captain to release you immediately.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “The guards are gone?” I asked, my head turning towards the shut door.
“The guards have been told to stand down and Captain Hansen has been ordered to cease this ridiculous interrogation of you. We all know you would never hurt anyone. You saved Hugo, you saved me!”
Relief surged through my body, unknotting the tightly-wound tension. This was quickly followed by a trickle of something less familiar to me: guilt.Pull yourself together, you ninny!
Why should I feel guilty? Ihadsaved Hugo and Amalie. My motives for doing so were not important, I had earned my praise. “Thank you, Princess.” I paused, then gingerly vocalized the question that had been eating away at me. “How is he doing?”
Once again, tears formed in her eyes, and she shook herhead. “He’s alive but… he’s not doing terribly well. He has yet to wake up. The healers say he’s in a coma.”
