It was a foolish question, of course. Devil had said that Oberon could take him apart as easily as look at him, and I had no such leverage. But he closed the distance between us quickly, taking my face between his hands. His thumbs brushed over my cheeks, wiping away the tear stains.
“Yours,” he murmured. “Always, without question,yours. Even if it is my undoing.” To my utter shock, he placed a soft kiss on my forehead, then bent down and swept me into his arms. “I cannot take you with magyk this time. We will have to fly.” I nodded, wrapped my arms around his neck, and buried my face in his shoulder, steeling myself for the flight.
As we rose into the cold night air, I lifted my head just enough to kiss his cheek and whisper, “Thank you, Devil.”
Chapter twenty
Spells & Strength
Iopened my eyesto a riot of glittering color, shot through with bolts of yellow sunshine. It was so bright, I had to blink several times before trying to make sense of it all. I was beneath a tree…or perhapsina tree. Dark branches curved over my head, silhouetted by the glaring sun, but I was lying on some kind of soft bed, covered in a heavy blanket. My body and throat ached, and my hearing was muffled, so the first thing I did was put my hands up to my ears. Something soft, like silk, had been wrapped around my head. I pushed up onto one elbow to find that the cloth was bundled around my mass of hair, keeping it from becoming tangled against the cotton pillow beneath my head. I had a vague memory of changing into my black shift the night before, but had been in such a state of disorientation, it was the only memory I could dredge up from after Devil had carried me back to the Hollow. I sat up further to see my Huntress moth gown lying crumpled beside the bed, bronze snake torque sitting on top.
As my eyes adjusted to the blinding light, I took in my surroundings. I was, indeed, in a tree. However, it was as if someone had come in with a kit full of tools and carved the trunk out at the place where the largest branches diverged, like I was sitting in a giant’s hand, with knobbly wooden fingers rising all around me. The ‘palm’ of the hand was carpeted in soft, green moss, and all around the low, outer wall ran a wide ledge, which was piled with a disorderly mix of scrolls, cups, empty bottles, and half-made arrows with red fletching. A carved longbow hung on the opposite wall, above an open archway that led into the tree itself.
But I could not tear my eyes away from the sky for very long. Hanging from nearly every branch and twig above me were what I could only describe as ‘trinkets’—beads made from every material imaginable, seashells inevery shape, shining stones and gems, bells, coins, shards of colorful glass, and even a few bits of colored or patterned paper. They hung from hundreds, if not thousands, of ribbons and lengths of string, which had been braided, twisted, or tied together so that the treasures created a sort of canopy above me. A smile spread across my face as I got out of the bed and stood, reaching up to run my fingers through the collection.
The treasures sang like wind chimes as I gently pushed them into each other, creating a discordant little choir that made me giggle. “I think I know who lives here.”
I searched the tree branches with my eyes shaded, certain he was perched above me. But, not seeing him up in the tree, I made my way over to the little archway. It led to the top of a narrow, haphazard staircase, which curved around like the bell tower stairs at Locksley Abbey. At the bottom, I found myself below ground. The roots of the great tree, packed with sandy loam, formed walls and ceiling for what felt like a den. But it was the sort of den where a storybook creature might live—warm and cozy and welcoming, with a patchwork-quilted bed in one corner and a cabinet that looked like it had come from a human home in the other. Dug into one wall was a fireplace made from a random assortment of stones and bricks, and in front of it, a long, polished dining table. Behind the table, along the same wall as the fireplace, was a fixture resembling a mining sluice. I could hear fresh water trickling through it, and guessed that it had been cleverly rerouted from the Hollow’s bubbling creek.
“The princess arises from her slumber!” said a soft, happy voice, and I finally noticed Aliena sitting at the far end of the table. She rose quickly and came toward me with a fierce, emotional expression, pulling me into a bone-crushing embrace.
“I’m alright,” I assured her.
“Oh, hush,” Aliena scolded. “I know that cannot be true. Come and sit.” Once I was settled in a knotted, slightly askew chair, she pushed a steaming clay mug toward me. “Now, what questions do you have?”
“I…uh…” Whatever was in the mug smelled divine—like spiced apples and cloves—so I took a small sip to clear my head. “To start…I suppose…well, where are we?”
“In the Hollow, don’t worry. Robin brought you back here last night and then sent for me. He didn’t think you’d want him taking care of you.”
“So this is his home?” I asked, surveying the quaint little space.
“Upstairs is his,” Aliena chuckled. “This is Jon’s, but he’s hardly ever here. Prefers sleeping out under the trees. Right now, though, he’s outside monitoringyour prisoner.” It took my mind a moment to catch up to the truly outlandish series of events that had befallen me in the last few days.
“Will!” I cried, standing up. “He’s still here! Where is Devil?”
“Sit down. Your Will is just fine. Robin…Devil…is with Oberon.”
I grimaced. “He isn’t in trouble, is he? He was supposed to take me back to the Bower last night…”
“Probably.” Aliena shrugged. “But he wouldn’t disobey if he didn’t think it was worth the punishment.”
A chill ran through me, wondering what Oberon might do to him. As angry as I’d been after the night’s revelations, Devil had chosen to obey me in that moment, rather than his master, and that was not nothing. I could only hope for the chance to thank him.
I scrubbed my hands over my face and murmured, “I don’t know what to do. Surely, Oberon doesn’t expect me to just…heal the Arden with a snap of my fingers? My gift was meant to fix human bodies, human sickness…”
“Do not think on it now,” Aliena said, covering my hand with hers. “If he knows what’s best, Oberon is giving you some space to work through things. You will have to face him eventually, but not right now. Right now, you need to rest, and deal with the…situation.”
“What situation?”
Aliena sighed and drained her mug. “Get dressed and I’ll show you.”
I quickly took another large gulp of my drink as she motioned to my chest of my clothes, which had been placed at the foot of the bed. She left the den to give me some privacy, and I sat for a moment, breathing deeply and steeling myself. Once I had stripped off my shift and washed with a clean rag dipped in frigid water from the sluice, I unwrapped and unknotted my hair with a bone comb Arachne had placed in the chest. She had also included a small bottle of almond oil, which I smoothed through my curls. I donned a simple, brown wrap dress and my reliable, old boots. Beneath my clothes, I also found my iron medallion—the one I’d worn every day for as long as I could remember, a sign of my faith, and the only thing still tying me to Locksley. I hesitated to touch it at first, wondering if the knowledge of my fay blood would somehow cause it to burn me, but it did not seem to have any effect when I brushed my fingers over the surface. Reflexively, I made the sign of the Holy Family on my chest, then tucked it into my pocket.
“Mother, forgive me,” I whispered. Aliena sat on the grass outside, leaning up against the enormous, ancient tree Devil called home. It was located further up the hill from her little cottage, right beside the creek, rising above most of the other trees around it.
“So,” I murmured as we made our way through the Hollow together, heading downhill. “You knew my mother? Lyric…”
Aliena smiled. “She was my dearest friend, and the best accompaniment I ever had. Her voice was…ethereal.”
