by Nicole Field
Lucie, Foxglove thought vaguely, trying to lift his head, but failing. Where's Lucie?
She was alright, he knew. He was her familiar. Their hearts were connected. He'd know if something had happened to her.
She'll be alright, he thought. He hadn't thought he'd closed his eyes, but maybe he had.
After all, everything had gone dark.
Lucie
Lucie watched Foxglove crash to the ground in numb, helpless horror, her blood rushing and screaming behind her ears. Her grip on her magic failed, plants falling limp and motionless all around the ballroom as she seized onto the railing in front of her.
"Foxglove!"
She wasn't aware that she had cried out until she heard her voice ringing, sharp and high. Her heart was beating too fast, far too fast, a sharp pitter-patter that slammed against her chest.
She had to get to him. She had to reach his side, but she was so far away—she didn't have time to go around, she wasn't sure if the doors were still blocked, she need to get to him now—
Scrambling up on the railing, she wobbled there, staring down at the vast jump. It was high enough to kill her. She didn't care. Foxglove was hurt. He might be dying. She could feel it in her bones, in every part of her. She could save him. She had to.
She took a deep breath and leapt.
Suri
Suri collapsed onto her hands and knees, breathing hard, heart pounding. She was slick with sweat, her hair falling messily around her cheeks, sticking to the back of her neck. She was fairly sure she would be bruised from shoulder to ankle tomorrow.
But she would be alive, and that was what mattered.
Next to her, Fen dropped down heavily on one knee. They were quite a bit worse-off than she was, the entire left side of their head so bloody that their hair was caked with it, their eye swollen shut.
"Papa," Suri gasped. "Father! Are they—?"
"They're fine," Fen answered. "Prince Pascal just forced his opponent to surrender, and Prince Kilkastel defeated the imposter as well. The guard has arrived and are rounding up the remaining rebels. But…"
A strange tremor in their voice made Suri look up. Fen was staring straight ahead, a ghastly, horrified expression on their face that Suri had never seen before. Hauling herself up with the help of a chair, Suri caught a glimpse of both of her fathers kneeling next to the fallen form of an unfamiliar demon. Puzzled and alarmed, Suri looked back at Fen.
"Fen—who is that?"
Fen opened their mouth but was cut off as a shrill scream split through the air. Head whipping around, Fen moved so suddenly that Suri was knocked back off-balance with a cry as they sprinted across the room at a dead run.
Scrambling to get her balance again, Suri's hands flew to her mouth. Her heart seemed to stop beating entirely as she watched Lucie plunge down from the balcony above.
"Lucie!"
Fen
Lucie dropped into Fen's arms heavily enough to send them stumbling off-balance. But although their muscles screamed with protest at the weight, despite their injuries, Fen held on tightly and didn't let Lucie fall.
Lucie hardly seemed to notice Fen. She struggled out of their arms as soon as she was able to, setting off across the room towards her demon faster than Fen had ever seen her move, wispy skirts hiked up high over her knees.
Staggering, Fen set off at a swift jog after her, a cold sort of fear starting to seep through their chest.
They'd seen what had happened. They had watched, helpless, as the blade had arced towards King Yue, and had been equally unable to do anything as Foxglove had gone into a dive, shifting as he flew, and took the blow meant to kill the king.
The fake Kilkastel had put killing intent into that attack. Fen could barely bring themself to go to Lucie's side, too afraid of what they might see.
Lucie was already bent over Foxglove's body when Fen reached them. Up close, Fen could see the great gash that cleft the demon's chest. Miracle of miracles, he still seemed to be breathing—but it was a shallow, ragged, bubbling thing, and one look at Yue's grim, pale face told Fen all they needed to know.
"Fen," said the king, hand braced against Pascal's arm. He was shaking, but made a valiant attempt to mask it. "Quickly—send someone to fetch the physician—"
Fen looked down at Lucie, who seemed to really look back at Fen again for the first time, and shook her head stubbornly.
"He's too far gone," Lucie said, eyes wide, expression haunted. "No—I need more than that. Please—"
The young woman was a witch—and Suri's beloved. The crow-boy was a demon, and had saved King Yue's life.
"Anything," Fen said, dropping to one knee. "Anything you need, Lucie. Just tell me, and it will be done. I swear on my life."
They felt Suri appear at their side, saw her with her hands pressed in horror against her mouth, but she didn't speak, just waited. Lucie swallowed hard, looking quickly between the two of them, then at the king—then back down at Foxglove. The demon's dark blood was spilling over her fingertips as she pressed her hands against the wound.
"Thread," Lucie whispered. "Silk thread, and iron. Candles. Salt, wine. A knife. Lavender, thyme, hyacinth. A… a stone, if you have one. A gemstone. Something like carnelian, or garnet, would be best—and hurry, please. He hasn't got much time."
Fen turned immediately to a cluster of servants nearby, but the king was faster.
"Quickly!" Yue demanded, his usually soft voice raised sharply in command. "Fetch everything that she needs from the kitchen! Immediately. And you, to the gardens—"
And into Lucie's hands, he pressed a ruby ring.
The royal signet, Fen realized.
Lucie's fingers curled around it tightly, and she bowed her head. "Thank you," she whispered, and went to work.
Lucie
Suri sank down onto her knees as Lucie began to hastily patch together spell components as they were brought to her, bloodied hands shaking. Lucie had managed to stabilize Foxglove for now, but he was still slipping away from her, fast.
"Lucie—" Suri whispered.
"I'm sorry," Lucie whispered, sharp and high. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was going to, tonight. I didn't know—and then I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to hate me…"
"Oh," Suri gasped. "Lucie… no, no. That was never in question. Don't… I'm here. I'm here for you. Whatever you need—"
Lucie felt relief, distant and far-off, strangely unreachable. That acceptance was all she had thought about for days, but yet, in this moment, it seemed that nothing could cut through the terror and grief that hung around her like a cloud.
Foxglove, Foxglove…
"It's not enough," Lucie whispered, more to herself than anybody else. She made a circle with the salt, placed the stone in the center. She lit the candles, arranged the components. Her head bowed, her shoulders shaking as she reached for the knife they'd brought her, swiftly slashing it across her own palm.
She saw Fen wince as her blood welled up in her hand, but she felt nothing.
Blood for blood, she thought, curling her fingers around the ruby ring, feeling the cold stone press against her skin.
Absorbed in the spell, she hardly noticed another presence until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She herself didn't turn, but she saw Suri look up immediately, hands knotting in her dress.
"You—Kilkastel," Suri said urgently, her round face streaked with tears. "You're a witch, too. Can't you help?"
"I cannot aid with a spell like this," the Witch-Prince said, voice soft, head bowed under the weight of the crown he'd reclaimed from his imposter. "She is too close to the magic and using her bond to power it. I would only cause disruption.” A pause. “She is his best hope.”
His only hope, Lucie thought. She'd known that already, though. In Foxglove's condition, a spell like this had to come from Lucie's very core.
She laced a needle with the silk thread and ran it through the blood on her palm. She recited the steps over and over in her head, like a mantra
. Sew the wound, burn the herbs, create the circle, infuse the wine, drop in the stone…
"What about us?"
Fen's voice cut through the clamor in Lucie's mind. She looked up, swallowing hard as the room swam and went a little gray at the edges.
"What?" Lucie croaked.
Fen moved a little closer, kneeling in front of her and holding out both hands. "I don't know how your magic works," they said softly. "But I don't… want you to have to do this all alone. So if it's blood you need… well, I've got a lot of it."
Suri immediately thrust her hand out as well. "Yes," she said urgently. "Let us help."
No, Lucie thought immediately. Foxglove was her familiar. It wouldn't work if anybody else—
She looked at their earnest, anxious faces, took a deep breath, and stopped to consider.
The pact to summon a demon familiar was a complex one. A witch offered part of themself to bind the demon to them—energy, usually—and in exchange, the demon offered the witch what they desired. Power, protection, abilities beyond human comprehension.
Lucie had only ever really wanted a friend.
When Foxglove was hurt, Lucie could give him part of her energy to heal him. When she was tired, he could bolster her and help her stay lively. Neither one took too much, and neither one gave more than the other.
Right now, Foxglove needed her more than he ever had before, and she was prepared to give all of herself in order to make him well.
But maybe, she thought, he didn't need only her. Maybe the others that she loved and trusted could help, too.
"Alright." Lucie was frantically running through the spell components in her mind and rearranging them. She'd need to make a small adjustment; increase the iron, lower the salt level, teach Suri and Fen the incantation, but then—
"Give me your hands," she whispered, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "And let's keep him here where he belongs."
Foxglove
In his dream, it was sunset. Foxglove rode on top of a covered circus wagon that meandered its way through the countryside, through fields of bright pink flowers that glowed a deep red in the light of the setting sun.
It was a peaceful sight, but he was restless. The further along they went, the more his chest seemed to ache. He'd never cried before, but something prickled at his eyes, hot and stinging.
"Hey," he called out. "Where are we going?"
There was no answer. Shifting forward, Foxglove clutched onto the edge of the wagon, peering down—but there was nobody driving the wagon. Alarmed, he looked around. Empty, empty, empty… the next one was empty too.
Where was he going? Why was he going by himself? He didn't want to go. He didn't want to be alone anymore—
Foxglove woke up with a start and sat up in bed, gasping sharply.
This had two effects: One, the elf fast asleep in the chair next to his bed jolted upright and looked for a moment like they might punch Foxglove back down into bed again. Two, Foxglove's chest gave an incredibly sharp twinge of pain, so intense that all he could do was collapse back on his side and let out an incoherent wheeze.
What the hell had happened?
Memories came swarming back like angry bees. The festival. The masquerade. The false Witch-Prince.
The knife meant for King Yue.
Oh, Foxglove thought, stunned. He'd survived it. He honestly hadn't expected to have to face the consequences of his selfless actions. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now.
Wait—
"Where's Lucie?" Foxglove demanded, trying to heave himself up onto his elbows again, although his wound strained in protest.
Having recovered their composure after Foxglove's abrupt movement, Fen braced both hands on his shoulders and insistently pressed him back down.
"Lucie is fine," Fen said, voice low. "She and Suri have just gone for a short walk. She's barely left your side otherwise, but we finally convinced her that you were stable enough that you wouldn't vanish on her if she took her eyes off you for a moment."
Ouch, Foxglove thought, instantly guilty. Swallowing hard, he looked down at his chest, running his fingers over the neat silken stitches there.
"Ah," he mumbled. "Well… here I am, alive."
"And we're glad for it," Fen told him. To Foxglove's great shock, Fen lowered themself down to the ground on one knee, hand pressed over their heart. "You saved King Yue at great risk to yourself, and I want to be the first to extend my thanks. For myself, for Suri, and for all of us."
Foxglove stared at them, then looked down at his own hands. His own clawed, turquoise skinned hands. "Uh, hey," he said, pulse starting to hammer rapidly, almost painfully. "You did notice that I'm a demon, right?"
Fen raised an eyebrow. Since Foxglove had last seen them, they'd gained a great big scar across their forehead. It looked incredibly cool. It had probably happened when the elf had leapt three storeys off a balcony to attack someone, like some sort of terrifying avenging spirit. Their hair was pulled back in a single low ponytail today, and they were wearing a very well-tailored suit.
"I already knew," Fen said simply. "That sort of thing's actually more common than you'd think."
"Yeah?" Foxglove's voice rose into a rough, nasal caw. "Do you want to maybe fill me in on what that cryptic statement means—?!"
Before Fen had a chance, the door to the infirmary slammed open and Lucie charged in, already in tears as she made a running leap for the bed. "Foxglove!"
Fen reached out and quickly caught Lucie around the waist before she could land, then very gently set her down on the bed next to Foxglove.
"Oh," Lucie said, startled. "Thank you, Fen."
She turned to look at Foxglove again. Her eyes were damp, and her cheeks were blotchy, and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his life.
He cleared his throat, slowly lying back. "Hey, Lu," Foxglove mumbled. "Ah… nice sewing job. Sorry that I ended up having to be patched up…"
"Please." Suri crawled onto the foot of the bed, flopping dramatically down onto her face. "Please just kiss her already before I die."
Foxglove's mouth dropped open. "Ah," he said, staring at the princess, then back at Lucie, who seemed about as stunned as he felt.
"Suri," Fen said, tone reproachful, but not actually seeming like they minded that much. "I don't think they knew."
"Right, can we please talk about—" Foxglove began, but for the second time since waking up, he found himself quite unceremoniously interrupted. This time, it was because Lucie took his face in both hands and kissed him firmly on the mouth, so he really couldn't find it in himself to mind.
He lifted his hands to frame her waist, leaning in with all the eagerness made from years of longing, and tugged her close. She smelled of lavender and tasted like peaches, and was just—
"Lucie," he mumbled, not making any move to let her go or look away from her shining gaze and her wobbly smile. "Your girlfriend is here."
"You'd better get used to it," Suri whispered loudly.
Foxglove opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, a voice came from the doorway.
"Suri, are you bullying my hero?"
It was a voice distinctly like Suri's, which immediately made Foxglove extremely nervous. That feeling intensified tenfold when he peered past Lucie to see not one, not two, but three royals walk in.
King Yue looked like a taller, bearded version of Suri, with sleek black hair and a face lined with an abundance of laugh lines. At his side, as expected, was Prince Pascal. Behind them, for some absurd reason, was Prince Kilkastel—minus the antler crown in the low-ceilinged infirmary, thankfully—who drifted surprisingly anxiously for a lean and towering ruler of the witch kingdom.
"Father!" Suri sat up straight, with a wide smile. "I'm doing no such thing. I haven't even met him officially, you know."
"Then we shan't take up too much of your time," Pascal said, gently nudging Yue with one elbow. "We simply wanted to extend our thanks and… clear up any lingering mi
sunderstandings that there might be."
"Oh, you, I like," Foxglove said, a little delirious. "You have no idea how confused I am right now. You're definitely a demon, though, right? Your Highness."
Pascal looked mildly surprised, but it quickly passed. Yue, on the other hand, let out a bright laugh, tilting his head back and clapping a hand on Pascal's shoulder.
"He is," Yue said, grinning. "That's a long story, my boy, but one we can tell at a later date."
"I've known that about Papa my entire life," Suri explained, shifting her way up the bed to be closer to Lucie. Foxglove tugged his tail out of the way. "It was especially important to Father that he arrange peace with Pavra because of it. There wasn't much luck with the old Witch-Prince, but once Kilkastel came into power, everything finally started to fall into place."
"Yes, well…" Kilkastel mumbled, looking a little embarrassed. "The case that was made was certainly very persuasive."
Suri's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my."
"That's not what he meant," Pascal said quickly.
"It's pretty much right, though," Yue said peaceably.
"Political friends with benefits?" Foxglove suggested, and was a little pleased with himself when this earned a sparkling, dimpled smile from Suri.
Kilkastel was staring at the ceiling. "There are many benefits to peace with Vie," he said. "Though unfortunately… some of the court… disagreed. I don't expect that Ansketel will be the last to protest, but… thankfully, we have resolved this particular matter. Public feeling in Vie is… more positive towards us, currently, at least partially due to the recent actions of a… particular demon."
The back of Foxglove's neck started to burn. He tried to squirm away a little, but Lucie reached back and clasped his hand, holding on tightly.
"Foxglove," Lucie murmured softly, insistently. "Suri and Fen… helped me save you."
"We didn't do much," Fen protested.
"Though technically, you do have royal blood in your veins, now," Suri mused aloud. "…and also the royal signet ring, I guess? So that officially makes you part of the family."