“No,” said Alison, and then she turned to see him holding a sword. “Stop! Where did you get that? Put it away. They’re my friends.”
“Friends? Is that really what you’re going to call us?” said Rinka, tears in her eyes.
“Everyone stop! Sit still and don’t kill each other. I’m going to try to find the fairies.”
Alison snapped the door closed behind her, hoping they could keep it together long enough for her to find someone to help.
She raced down the hallway to the ladder they had climbed to get up here. She pulled on the hatch, but it wouldn’t budge.
The door creaked open behind her. “Rinka, please,” came Keir’s voice. “Don’t do this.”
Alison rushed down the hall as Rinka shoved him into it. “Your services are not needed here,” she said and slammed the door behind her.
Alison watched Keir in his pajamas as he knocked on the door, and it dawned on her.
This was a test, she realized. A chance to use her magic, to learn to control it.
She approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I have an idea to make Rinka jealous,” she said. She tried to feel something between them that she could latch onto, something like what she’d felt in the vine’s dream world or when they had raised the standing stones with the spriggan. Maybe in this state, he wouldn’t resist it.
“I wouldn’t want to make her jealous,” said Keir. “I love her.”
Alison tried to ignore the sting of hearing those words from him, words he hadn’t said to her yet himself. But to her surprise,the pain did something else—it revealed a place within her, a spot right in her chest where she felt a surge of…something. Power, perhaps.
She hoped it was power.
“I understand,” she said. “I have another idea. Come close so I can whisper it to you—they can both hear better than we can.”
As Keir leaned towards Alison, she grabbed the collar of his pajama top and kissed him.
At first, he tried to pull away, but Alison concentrated on the spot of power, willing it to rise from her chest into her throat and finally to her lips.
He relaxed and then melted into the kiss.
“Alison,” he said when he finally pulled away.
And then he pulled her in again, lifting her off the ground into his arms and pushing her against the door, kissing her like he’d been away from her for years, not hours.
It was hard—really hard—to pull away from him, but there were other issues to address. “We need to help the others,” she said, gasping as he lightly kissed her neck. “Soon. Later. Maybe a few more minutes would be—”
There was a loud crash from within the room.
“Oh, bloody hell,” she said. She pulled on his arms, which reluctantly lowered her to the ground.
“What are you going to do?” asked Keir. “I was still in my head. It was like I was watching myself say and do things, and when you kissed me, I broke free. But I’m not sure kissing them would work.”
It was a good point. “No,” said Alison. “I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t.” Alison reached for the doorknob, trying to come up with an answer, but it twisted on its own accord and then pulled back into the room.
Alison let go this time before she could fall to the floor.
“What’s going on out here?” asked Rinka. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and the strap of her nightgown was torn.
“Are you alright?” Alison asked as she looked past Rinka into the room.
She could see what had crashed to the ground: Prince Idris.
