“Always making it about yourself, you conceited thing,” I laughed under my breath. “I said I would not serve nor suffer a king who harmsanyof his citizens.”
“Of course,” Devil snorted. “Please, forgive me. How could I have forgotten that you feel nothing for me at all?” He twisted around and I leaned my forehead on his cheek, breathing in the warmth he always seemed to radiate, along with his earthy, coppery scent.
“Not…nothing,” I sighed. “Sometimes, I want to kill you too.” He laughed and pushed me gently back onto the pillows, then tried crawling to my side. But Sir Toby leapt onto the bed and flopped between us, eager to have his belly scratched, and we both obliged.
For more than a week after our visit to Locksley, I threw myself into trying to solve the problem of the Rot. When I was not out in the forest under Oberon’s stoic and silent supervision, practicing with my shadows, I was in the library. Simeon had, of course, already gone through every text in the collection looking for information about the curse, but was more than happy to help me pore over it all again while he wasn’t sleeping. Whether out of fear or concern, I did not know, but Devil kept his distance from the Bower, at least during daylight. He sent Prim with official messages, then waited until the dead of night to slip beneath my blankets, sleeping fitfully beside me and vanishing before dawn. The only news he had for me, however, was that Johar’s force along the edge of the Arden had notincreased, nor decreased; that Hippolyta had thus far managed to keep Titania ignorant of the situation; and that Helena continued to make a nuisance of herself in the Hollow. I constantly felt like I was holding my breath, just waiting for a taut rope to snap and for everything to fall to pieces.
Isolated, and without control, I thought I might be going mad. To make matters worse, my ability to create solid objects from shadow, while useful for self-defense, had absolutely no impact when it came to the Rot. Some days, I sat near the plague for hours at a time, hand pressed to the ground, feeling the way the currents of magyk moved in response to my own and trying to work out a weak spot, a way to push it back. But it remained as pervasive and sinister as ever. If I sat still long enough, I would spot an Unseelie creature or two lurking between the blackened tree trunks, watching me with their horrible, dead eyes. They did not attack—never came closer than twenty paces—but something about me meddling with the Arden’s magyk seemed to attract them. During our brief, waking moments together, I did not mention the monsters to Devil. The threat of a possible invasion, and Oberon’s anger, was already causing him enough strife. Whenever he came to my bed to sleep, he suffered from nightmares that he refused to speak about the next day.
One cold, clear evening, after two days without any news at all, I came back to my room after supper to find a large, red feather beside my pillow, a small note speared onto the shaft. The messy, red-ink scrawl was Devil’s, and it simply instructed me to meet him in the Hollow at dusk. Beside the feather was a small bouquet of wildflowers tied with a blue, silk ribbon. They looked a bit odd, but I did not understand why until I picked them up and they burst into a shower of light. The sparks then melded themselves together in midair, creating a dozen golden Huntress moths that fluttered around my room, then out into the night before vanishing.
“Dramatic,” I laughed out loud, “but thank you, featherhead. They’re lovely.”
I spent more time than usual washing myself, then picked out a soft, cream-colored dress with blue roses and vines stitched around the hems. The thread color matched Devil’s ribbon perfectly, so I tied it into my hair and looked in the mirror. A small crop of nerves suddenly sprouted up in my stomach, and I had to take several deep breaths as I adjusted a few stray, face-framing curls.
Sometimes, when I was alone with my thoughts too long, I wondered if I deserved any of the devotion he seemed so eager to give. For weeks now, I’d been so caught up in the idea of taking what I wanted in order to strengthen my magyk that I hadn’t stopped to consider much else. I had actively pushed aside thoughts about the future, and about my actual feelings for him. But the prospectof spending a night with him, outside the Bower, brought a ridiculous smile to my face. Even when I covered my mouth and shook my head, it stayed. So, with butterflies overtaking my stomach, I stepped out onto the balcony and pulled myself into the magyk currents of the Arden.
I arrived just outside Devil’s oak tree promptly at dusk, just when the Hollow was beginning to darken. Loud, raucous voices and warm light spilled out from the den, so I crept down the stairs and peeked into the room. Jon, Aliena, Larch, Celia, Briony, and Helena sat around the big table together, playing cards and drinking. Eight empty bottles of wine already decorated the mantle, and stacks of gold crowns from Johar’s caravan were piled in the center of the table. None of them noticed me come in at first, so I sent a tendril of shadow creeping across the floor to tug at Jon’s stool, which he was tilting back on two feet. It lurched and he jerked forward, scattering his own coins in all directions and causing him to drop his hand of cards. Celia took the opportunity to look down at them and cried out.
“Oh, Iknewyou were cheating, you big lout!”
Jon saw me standing behind him, grinning madly, and let out a groan. “Gods be damned, May! I nearly had them all on the ropes!”
“Cheaters never prosper, Jon Lytle,” I scolded, taking his cup of wine from the table and draining it. Even Helena was smiling, although she did appear much drunker than the rest of them.
“To what do we owe the pleasure this evening, princess?” asked Aliena. She quickly pulled an extra chair up beside her and found another bottle of wine to open.
“Devil left a note saying to meet him here at dusk.”
Jon exchanged a shrewd smile with Larch, and Aliena hid her own smirk behind her cup.
“Well, I guess we’d all better clear out then, before it getsnoisyupstairs,” said Briony. The squirrel-girl winked at Helena, who let out a sharp giggle, but then looked confused.
“Wait…why would it get noisy?” she asked, and the entire table went silent for a split second before bursting into more drunken laughter.
“Thatis not why I’m here!” I cried, heat rising in my cheeks. But my claims fell on deaf ears. Everyone around the table began to clean up, dumping gold coins back into the chest and rinsing wine cups in the sluice.
“Did he say something to you?” I asked Aliena under my breath. “Because I promise, that’s not why I’m here. He probably just has news. You should all stay and hear it too.”
“Breakfast at my house in the morning,” was all she said, kissing me softly on the cheek. “Come along, my lady. I think it’s best if you stay with me tonight.”
Helena rose from her chair, still looking a bit baffled, but following obediently.
“Aliena!” I huffed. “Jon! You don’t have to go, I swear!”
Jon just winked, then began shedding his boots and shirt, preparing to spend his night out in the forest. Within minutes, I found myself sitting alone beside a merrily crackling fire. I let out a long sigh and grabbed the half-empty bottle of wine from the center of the table, then made my way up to Devil’s nest.
It was dark now, but a few stubborn beams of the sunset glinting off his collection of hanging treasures. I ran my fingers through them, like always, trying to focus on the soft chime of shells and beads against coins and stones, rather than my thundering heart. A few sips of faerie wine helped calm my nerves, and I wandered around the room, examining some of his other belongings. They consisted mostly of tools used to make his arrows, but there was also a small bottle of red ink, a quill, and some scraps of parchment. Several hastily scribbled notes had been pinned to the mossy wall with half-finished arrowheads, but as I squinted to read them, a shadow passed over the tree.
I heard wing beats and looked up, unable to wipe the anxious, silly grin off my face, but was met by the loud sound of snapping tree limbs. Something large and winged was plummeting toward me. I threw myself against the wall as it smashed through the final layer of branches, scattering beads and broken shells about the room, then landing with an anguished cry on the bed in the corner. When I raised my head, I was nearly blinded by a suffusive glow coming from what looked like liquid gold. It was splattered across the mossy floor, dripping from the strings and ribbons, creating a trail that led directly to a pair of massive, red-feathered wings…riddled with arrows.
Chapter forty-five
Ruin & Rot
“Devil! No!” I scrambledacross the room, boots slipping through his strange blood, and carefully pulled one of the injured wings aside.
“May…” His voice was hoarse, pained, and he was bleeding out—golden light seeping from no less than a dozen wounds on his body, aside from the ones on his wings.
