Dylan stiffened abruptly and I wondered if I had done something wrong. He stared behind me, the look on his face was nothing short of devastated. I placed my hand against his cheek, but he didn’t look back at me. I followed his gaze, out through an archway to a man standing in the courtyard. A tall man stood, brown hair curled atop his head and a beard on his chin. As I looked from the man to Dylan and back, I was struck with an odd sense of familiarity.
Holding tight to Dylan’s hand, I fought to stay upright as he walked briskly toward the man. The man smiled politely as we neared. When we were close, I could see even more similarities between the two, the shape of the nose, the chin. Dylan spoke softly.
“Dad?”
Zoya
My level of anxiety has been growing for the past hour. First, Proteus was here. He has always been an elusive member of our society, and for good reason. His abilities were coveted and dangerous. I had been concerned for Dylan when I saw him walk out into the courtyard with him. While he was known for his benevolence, he was still incredibly powerful and therefore a risky association to make.
With my increased anxiety came an added intensity in my steps. My second concern was that I hadn’t been able to find Shea for over an hour and with each minute that passed my stomach twisted a little further.
Fynn
Proteus had only a few moments to spare for me this morning, but it was enough. She would wake on her own, was what he had said. And I was thrilled. I had made my necessary report and hurried back to stay by her side until she woke, only she wasn’t there.
Dorian was not where I had left him, posted at her door. She must already be up. But she wasn’t in her room. I had gone back to my business. There were things to be done, and I would no doubt find her in the course of the morning, but then I didn’t.
My tasks forgotten I began to make a concerted effort to find her within the castle. As my anxiety rose, I reached out to her in my mind. I should have done that the moment I thought she woke up. As I reached out for where her mind might be, I found nothing. It wasn’t like I should have to know where she was to find her. I had gotten so practiced with her that I could slip into her thoughts almost without effort.
But there was nothing. No dreams, no thoughts, no response at all. My anxiety became real fear then. How was it possible? There was a chance that she had found a way to keep me out, it should be well within her abilities to do that. I held on to that possibility, however painful to my ego. Better that she wanted me out than that something else was keeping me out.
Regardless, I needed to find her. If she decided that she was still angry at me about keeping secrets from her, I would understand and give her space, but if there was something wrong, I couldn’t wait it out.
Rounding a corner, I stopped short, backing into the shadow of a lemon tree. Blake stood at the end of the hallway, speaking with Shea. It brought to mind when I had seen Shea leaving Blake’s manor months ago. Just seeing Blake here had my nerves on end. What he had done to Cora?
And then it was clear. I knew where I ought to be looking. I turned quickly and made my way back towards Blake’s chambers. I was under no delusion regarding the kind of man that Blake was, amnesia or no—and with his behavior I was leaning heavily toward no—he was not a good person. I neared his door and stopped short, listening.
Somewhere inside the room came a rhythmic pounding sound. Twisting the doorknob, I found it locked. Of course, he wouldn’t leave it open. But I didn’t have my position for nothing. I reached into the hidden pocket sewn into my pantleg and pulled out my small lock picking tools. With a glance around, I made quick work of the lock and it opened with a snick.
The pounding had stopped. Perhaps it hadn’t been coming from this room at all. That didn’t mean I was going to leave. I needed to know she wasn’t tied up in some corner. Entering the room with practiced agility, I opened a trunk at the foot of the bed before inspecting the bathroom carefully. Nothing. The door to his closet was closed and I tried to open it. Locked. It was a good day for this skill set.
As easy as breathing, I was inside the enormous closet. I flipped the light switch and cast my eyes around the space. So many clothes and shoes and—a pair of feet at the back in shadow, barely visible under a line of garment bags. My heart pounded as I walked to the bag and pulled the bags to one side. A pair of large brown eyes stared out at me frightened as a deer. Not Cora’s gray eyes. Or Cora’s anything for that matter.
This girl may not be Cora, but if she was locked up in Blake’s closet, I couldn’t leave her there. I held out my hand.
“Let me help you.”
Her frightened look quickly left her, and an easy smile replaced it. She took my hand allowing me to lead her out of the corner and into the light.
“What’s your name?” I asked her. She opened her mouth like she would answer, a silly grin on her face, but then she closed her mouth again and her face fell, thoughtfully she looked to the floor.
“It’s alright. No pressure.”
She shook her head and held out her hand asking me to wait.
“If it’s all the same to you, we really shouldn’t get caught in here. We can talk once we’re out of Blake’s rooms. She nodded and I led her away, in search of a more private spot to find out what had happened to this poor girl. I hoped that Cora was ok. I hoped that this delay wouldn’t cost her.
Cora
Sleep can be surprisingly exhausting. I couldn’t say how long I had been stuck in the night sky of Naida’s dream. I hovered there, halfway between the sea and the sky. It could have been hours or days; the scene didn’t shift, and I could neither move nor communicate. I had beaten against the invisible confines of my mental prison for what felt like ages, to no avail. So, I had given up for a while. Maybe I would be rescued from this. Surely someone would have noticed me sleeping for a week.
Maybe the ball and mystery announcement had already come and gone. Maybe someone else had solved all the mysteries and I would be rendered unnecessary. I thought that would be kind of nice, not to have this weight on my shoulders. How pleasant not to be the person who had to save the day. There would be no glory, but there would also be significantly less work. Glory was probably overrated.
Eventually I tired of inactivity as much as I had tired of beating my mind against a wall. Daddy, what should I do?
Probably get out of there. The familiar tone of my father’s voice rang clear through the sparkling sky.
Is that really you? Please, help me. I’m stuck.
It’s just a dream sweetheart. You’re the one in charge in dreams.
Not this one... I can’t—
Sorry, sweetie, your brother is about to make a scene. I’ll see you when you get here.
No!
I tried again, tried to tell him how I couldn’t get up and how I was trapped, but no voice returned. There were so many things I wanted to talk to him about. And if Dylan was about the make a scene? I could only blame that on myself. Why was I never brave enough to share the important stuff with my brother? He had always been there for me. If I got out of here I would do better.
Had it really been my father? Or perhaps I had created that. Still, there was something there. If it was him then this prison wasn’t limitless. And if it had been my own creation, what else could I create? Could I create a way out of here?
What exactly were the bonds she had placed on me? They seemed strict, but perhaps there was an escape in the wording. She had said that I couldn’t leave. The difficult child that lived in a corner of my mind smiled because she loved to argue semantics.
How big of a change would be necessary, I wondered. Better play it safe and go all out. I brought to my mind the image of a beautiful girl I had known in school. She had chocolate brown skin and pink and purple dreadlocks. Her nose was pierced, and she had lovely full lips. Really, we couldn’t look more different. I looked down at myself and there she was, or rather, now I was her. I willed myself to wake.
{MISSING SYMBO
L}
The small space was dark and cramped. I lay on a lumpy surface and as I took in my surroundings, I realized that I lay awkwardly on the floor of a closet, shoes poking into my side. What’s more, I still had warm brown skin and dreadlocks. I didn’t doubt that I had the rest of the features of that girl. I considered changing back, but without the charm to protect me from her enchantment, would I be pulled back into Naida’s dream? I didn’t want to chance it. Who knew how long I had been in this closet?
I gathered myself up and jiggled the closet. I was locked inside. I opened my mouth to scream for help and no sound came out. I tried again, air passing over muted vocal cords. No talking. Even I couldn’t see a way out of that. I needed to get that charm. My hands in fists, I pounded on the door. Maybe I could shove my way out.
In the room beyond I heard a door click, and I fell silent. Someone was coming.
Oran
My patience is at an all-time low. My tolerance for the fanfare almost entirely gone. I want this done with; I want to check on Cora. I need to know that she is alright. The priorities that once held high rank for me have all taken a secondary position to her. I didn’t know how to exist without her. That spell. I was so wrapped up in Cora I couldn’t imagine being any other way. She was the moon to my ocean, pulling me toward her without any conscious effort.
I continued my search of this room, I was allowed in no other, by walking to the far side. Perhaps I would have a better view of the crowd from there.
Zoya
Cool hands covered my eyes and I spun around easily to come face to face with Shea. I stood up on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“There you are! I’ve been looking all over.”
“I was a little tired of all the party prep and I snuck off to our room to get a nap.” He said, a guilty smile on his lips. The now familiar unease returned at his words. He wasn’t napping, I’d checked our room twice. I offered a week smile. I could ask him outright. I ought to. I wouldn’t.
He nodded to the gardens. “Who’s that with Dylan. He seems pretty worked up.”
“Proteus. I should go and check on him. I don’t want Dylan getting into trouble.”
“Good idea. I’ll just go get some snacks.”
“There is no way that you’re hungry.” He shrugged his shoulders and smiled mischievously, walking away before I started for Dylan.
Cora
Fynn obviously didn’t recognize me like this, but I couldn’t chance turning back into myself without the charm. I tried again to speak as he led me away down the hall. Nothing. Not a peep. I whistled. That worked but was completely useless.
He pulled a door open and brought me into what appeared to be some sort of medical suite. Fynn directed I take a seat and went to leave me. I grabbed his hand. I wasn’t sick, and I needed to get into the ball. He turned to look at me while I held his hand in a death grip, a sad smile on his perfect lips. Focus.
I took a breath opening my lips. One more failed attempt to speak.
“It’s ok, you’re safe here. I’m only going to get you the doctor.” He tried to leave me again. No! Thinking quickly, I sprouted a fin in place of my feet. Good thing I was sitting. Fynn’s eyes went wide.
“Those… weren’t...” He looked to the side trying to remember my feet or dragging a mermaid down the hall no doubt. I shook my head furiously. Gesticulating wildly, I tried to convey that this wasn’t my face and that I had been trapped in sleep. Fynn’s smile was that of a man who was certain he was communicating with a mad woman and I wondered for a moment if he might run away. More calmly I directed him to look at my fin as I returned them to feet. Still lovely brown feet, not my usual tan.
Fynn’s face screwed up in confusion. “Who—what are you?”
Screw it. Taking a moment to concentrate I changed my appearance back to my own. Petite legs, long brown hair, gray eyes and tan skin. The world around me faded to black as I slumped back into the chair.
Perhaps there had been a better way to do this. Though without the ability to make any sort of sound I was at a loss. Maybe I should have looked for some paper to write him a note? But it was too late for that now.
I only allowed myself to stay trapped in that night sky for a moment. I quickly turned my attention back to changing my shape back to the same girl I had chosen before. With a sigh of relief, I opened my eyes again. Fynn was only inches from my face and jumped back quickly. Confusion in his eyes.
“Cora?” The doubt was plain in his voice and on his face. I nodded enthusiastically and he narrowed his eyes, not trusting me. I guessed that wasn’t unreasonable. If I could change my shape how could I prove what my right shape was. Fynn’s eyes never left my face.
“Ok. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take you into the ball. If you’re Cora, your father will be there. You lead me to him, and we’ll get this sorted out. I will not be leaving your side. Fair warning, Blake will be in there, so if you looked like this,” he waved a hand from my head to my toes, “when he left you in that closet, you might want to go with something else. Try anything funny, and I will kill you.” Fynn had never looked scary to me before. He did now.
Oran
I could feel her walk into the room like the moonlight coming out from behind thick clouds at night. I turned to face her, and confusion mixed with the love and adoration. This was not Cora. And yet I felt a compulsion to be near her, to touch her. I hadn’t felt drawn to anyone but Cora since the night I sang to her. Perhaps the enchantment was waning.
Fynn stood by her side and I bristled. Why was he always standing between me and what I wanted? She was on the other end of the hall and they were making their way towards the doors to the gardens. I couldn’t let her out of my sight.
Dylan
Fighting to hold back the tears that were invariably coming I felt my throat constrict. I could hardly process what he had said, let alone the fact that he was here. My insides were at war with themselves, my emotions were entirely unstable.
When Fynn led the unfamiliar girl over to our side I began to brush them away. Now was not a good time to be making new friends. I was a little embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of Fayre. Though there was something vaguely familiar about the girl.
“Sophie?” She looked like Cora’s friend from school. They hadn’t been especially close, why would she be here? Sophie looked like she wanted to laugh, but as she looked over to my dad her eyes welled with tears and she threw her arms around him. I didn’t know that Sophie even knew my dad.
“Fynn, your father appears to be among this evening’s attendees,” Dad said. “It would be in our best interest if he missed out on this particular family reunion.” He spoke with authority. Fynn nodded, a wry smile on his face and turned on his heel.
“Dylan, would you hand Cora that charm in your pocket?” I turned in a circle looking for Cora. How did dad know about the charm? I mean I guess he knew… what, everything? This didn’t make a lot of sense to me and Cora was nowhere in sight. I held the charm out in my hand toward dad.
“I don’t see Cora—”
Before I could finish Sophie snatched the charm out of my hand. Rolling her shoulders, she sighed loudly.
“Thanks dad.” The voice was unmistakably Cora’s. My eyes went wide.
“It would be best if you don’t make a spectacle of yourself in here, Cora. As it is,” he gestured across the room to where Blake stood near the foot of the dais, “you may want to take a moment to read the room.” She nodded.
“Right.”
Oran approached us and when Sophie—Cora—saw him she made a sheepish smile. Maybe it was Cora, but how? He looked her over, awe apparent on his face. With a thoughtful look on his face, my father snatched the charm out of her hand before pressing it back into mine with a wink in her direction.
“May I speak with you?” He asked, and Cora grabbed his arm and nodded, following him back into the hall.
“Dad?” I asked.
“I was under the
distinct impression that Cora’s hair was longer.” Fayre pouted. “Did she get a haircut?”
Cora
Oran led me away from my father and I wanted to pull away, not because I had a problem with Oran, but because I wanted to get back to my dad. Three words. I had only been able to say three words to him before Oran had pulled me away. I was glad that Fynn had talked to me about my father the other day, or I would have been a complete mess. As it was, tears were threatening to well up. And poor Dylan, I shouldn’t have left him so unprepared.
I turned to Oran and then out to where Blake stood, intent on what my father had said. I hoped that I hadn’t misunderstood. Things weren’t going quite the way I had imagined, and I needed to keep Naida from bewitching the king before he had a chance to make his announcement.
“Your face is new to me, have you been to Cainhorn Palace before?” New to me too. I thought and couldn’t help but laugh a little at myself. Oran’s face fell a little. I patted his hand went to speak, but a song drifted over the room and had everyone stilling in place. I looked at Oran, concerned, but he seemed unaffected.
I felt it, the swell of notes that seemed to press against the invisible bonds closing my throat. I knew who it must be, her enchantment felt familiar to me. Searching the room, I watched as almost every eye glazed over. Iolanthe sat beside Byron, while his eyes seemed to see nothing, Iolanthe blinked several times in rapid succession. At the far side of the room I saw Fynn, frozen and unmoving.
Then We Fly Page 31