My body warmed as if filled by a liquid gold, a lovely sort of warmth that gently burned and invigorated and ignited something inside me. Powers or belief or determination—maybe even magic.
When I opened my eyes, I poured the last of the vial out, the precious antidote to this curse, right into my palms. It hovered there, a double helix over the circlet ring, the magic swirling around the blue gems as if attaching itself to my ring and finding a likeness there.
I guided the potion down, over Irina, and I began weaving. A complicated cat’s cradle, an invisible game with no rules. One that utilized a form of logic unearthed deep within me. My fingers worked, netted together, working with the magic as it expanded before my eyes. I worked and worked until my brow was sheathed in sweat and my body was exhausted and worn, knotting together an incredible blanket of enchantment.
When I felt on the verge of collapse, I heard my name from the door, pulling me back to reality as if through a portal.
“Alessia.” Silas was at my side. “Alessia, you’ve done it.”
“Irina?” I gasped, barely conscious myself.
“She’s okay.” Silas put his hand on my shoulder, easing me backward, relinquishing me from my duties. “Henry is just lovely, and Irina is healing. You’ve done it, Alessia.”
With his promise, I slumped into unconsciousness, or sleep, or a darkness in which there existed no dreams and no thoughts, but only complete and utter peace.
Because finally, Ibelonged.
Chapter 3
“We’vegotto stop meeting like this.” Millie knocked, then poked her head in the door of my bedroom with her signature warm smile and ginger hair and cheeky humor. “How are you feeling, Alessia?”
I sat up in bed, feeling quite tuckered out, to be honest. But in a pleasant way, as if I’d put my body through something grueling but beneficial, like a hard run or a challenging swim.
“How long did I sleep this time?” I asked. “I don’t think I’ve slept this much since I was a child.”
“It’s not you, it’s the magic,” Millie said. “I expect you’re ravenous. Will you join me for breakfast in the garden?”
I calculated. Breakfast meant another day had passed in this place, this land,this...I couldn’t quite bring myself to call it a magical island, so we were going to call it a strange territory and leave it at that.
“Breakfast sounds great. Give me five minutes to get ready.”
After I’d slipped into unconsciousness from the excess of magic or power or whatever had happened in this house to save Irina’s life, I’d eventually been roused by Millie. I had been confused, in an exhausted trance after waking, but everyone had assured me that Irina and Henry were fine, which had been a great relief.
Then I’d hauled myself to the shower, where I’d scrubbed myself clean, scrubbed so hard it felt like my skin was raw. Like maybe that would be enough to strip this magical place from my memories and send me right back to New York where inevitably I’d end up marrying Simon and entering a very dull portion of my life. The rest of my life, most likely.
I didn’t want that to happen. I didn’t want to be picked up like a stuffed animal in a claw machine and dropped back into a life that wasn’t mine. A life that belonged to Simon and my parents. But letting myself believe in this place was dangerous.
It didn’t hurt to be taken away from a person I didn’t love. It would hurt to be taken away from here.
Yet I was still here, miraculously. The dawn of a new morning, with skin a little rawer, heart a little fuller, body a little sorer—and a lot of questions.
I found clothing in my size stocked in the dresser, which made me wonder if Millie had rushed out last night, or if maybe she’d been instructed to prepare formy arrival. Did that make her an accomplice in my kidnapping?
Granted, I hadn’t technically been kidnapped because I’d gone with Silas willingly, and with a huge dose of curiosity. Still, I had no doubt that Silas would’ve taken me one way or another, and he was just lucky that I hadn’t put up a fight.
Or maybe I was the lucky one.
I found Millie waiting for me in the garden. She had a spread of crumpets and jam, eggs and bacon, and a silver pot of piping hot coffee lying in wait. I poured myself a cup of coffee, pushed some food around my plate while Millie watched.
“Not hungry?” she asked.
“I’m trying to digest a lot already,” I said. “No pun intended.”
“You should’ve intended it,” Millie offered graciously. “It’s a very clever pun.”
Millie reached over and filled my cup of coffee.
“Come with me, and take your drink,” she encouraged. “Caffeine helps everything.”
