by A. L. Knorr
My breath almost stopped completely as another bell chimed for half past the hour. Thirty minutes to Queen Elphame’s arrival … but was I close enough? She’d said I had to be in the garden … I didn’t think the woods near the garden qualified. Would she know how close I was when she appeared? When it seemed as though it had been quiet for too long, I opened my eyes and lifted my head to look around.
The cabin was gone. Utterly changed. In its place was a huge mass of tangled thorns. There wasn't so much as the glass of a broken window on the ground, or a broken two-by-four, or even bent nails. It was as if the cabin had never been built.
Daracha let her arms rest at her side. She put her shoulders back and took a deep breath. "That's better." She sounded sprightly, and why shouldn't she? I was caged; she could take all the time in the world she wanted. Whirling, she snapped her fingers and pointed at where I lay inside the purple cage, hovering over the ground.
She snapped at the ithe: "Assemble the pyre; we haven't got all night."
Slowly, the ithe moved, crossing the glen step by step, looking as weary as ever.
"Byrne." I adjusted my position to try and see it ... him better. The binds around my legs tightened and I hissed in pain. "You're fae. You're not her slave. Remember who you are."
"Shut up, Wise." Daracha crossed her arms. "Have you forgotten I can gag you as well?"
I kept my eyes on the ithe as it closed the distance between us. "You don't have to do this. You loved a fae woman named Fyfa once, and she loved you. She misses you even today. Try and remember!"
If there was any recognition in the ithe, I couldn't see it. It came to a stop near my cage and bent over, reaching for the buzzing purple bars. Its flickering fingers hooked through the grid the way human fingers go through chicken wire, the way it had picked me up once before.
"Put her over here." Daracha pointed to a shadow next to the enormous thorn-bush she'd erected. "And build the pyre in the middle of this glen. I want her ashes before sunrise."
The cage moved as the ithe picked me up. Pain lanced through my legs where the bindings held me. As before, my gaze was drawn to the place where the ithe's fingers touched Daracha's magic. There was again the slight drawing back of the black flames, a revealing of what was underneath. A beam of gentle moonlight passed overhead as the cage moved, and I got a better look. What I had thought of as bones the last time I'd been in Daracha’s cage, were not bones. They were fingers. Byrne's fingers.
I reached for them, touching the tip of a finger. The nail was just visible where the void had retreated. This poor fae man and his horrifying fate now appeared to be my hope.
Help me, Byrne. Oh, help.
Chapter Twenty
Jostled around in the cage as the ithe carried it, I bit my lip against the pain. I sent Byrne more pleas for help as I touched the tip of his finger. The ithe did not respond, just began to transport me to where Daracha had directed. But he had not turned around yet. I took in a gasp of hope as I realized I was being carried in the opposite direction, along the narrow trail through the trees, the one connecting the cabin to the castle.
"Where are you going?" Daracha's voice called from the clearing, impatient and bored. "Idiot. I said put her over here."
The ithe continued to walk the path, plodding slowly. Trees and branches scraped against the cage, leaving the greenery burnt and curling like melted plastic. Branches that brushed along my prison sent up tendrils of smoke as they turned black.
"I said, stop!"
With the witch's command, the ithe's legs slowed as though it was a toy running on near-dead batteries. It juddered then halted, then took another slow, grinding step.
"Yes," I whispered, hope a small bird preparing to take flight in my heart. "Fight her, Byrne." I wished desperately that I could help it. Not it, him. I'd been thinking of the ithe as a genderless, heartless, mindless creature this whole time. A vessel for Daracha's evil, but this was Fyfa's friend and lover of centuries past.
Subtle as watercolor artwork, more of Byrne's fae fingers could be seen where they came into contact with the cage. The black flames covered the rest of him, but where he touched the purple electricity, I could now see fingernails and knuckles dimly in the shadows.
Daracha yelled abuse in the background, but I blocked it out as the ithe fought against her, continuing to take the jarring almost painful steps toward the castle. I urged him on, willing him not to fail. How he knew I needed to get to the castle, I didn't know, and at this particular juncture, I didn't care. Somehow, he knew.
The ithe bent and shuddered as if in pain. I hovered over the ground in the cage as if secured by strong elastics. The cage struck against the ithe's legs and he nearly keeled over. He became still, the fingers under my touch tightening as if he needed a moment to rally his energy. I tried desperately to feel the earth's magic, to help him, to send any kind of aid I could, but nothing flowed through me. I was as stopped up as a dam. The ithe took more laborious steps.
Daracha began to scream in Gaelic, but still the ithe walked, bent as if in agony. Purple lightning flashed around the ithe's head and he cringed away from it. My heart ached for him as he inched us up the hill and broke through the trees. Before us lay the garden maze. The ithe put my cage down and released it, his fingers slipping away from mine. The flame swallowed up the fingertips and knuckles which had been bare.
Daracha broke through the trees behind the ithe, raining abuse on him. She waved her hands like someone having a tantrum but stopped suddenly when she turned to see the garden.
Straining to see what she was seeing from where I hovered close to the ground, I had a wild thought that Elphame had appeared. I could make out only the shadows of shrubs and the shape of the castle against the night sky. But the moon was cresting. My heart picked up speed. The bell chimed a single, mournful peal. “Fifteen minutes,” I whispered breathlessly. Thanks to the ithe, I was in the garden. But would Daracha make it move me back to the glade? I held my breath.
"It's not a bad idea, actually." Daracha sounded calm now, even thoughtful. "We have time enough. You can assemble the pyre there, in the center." She laughed wickedly and I let out my pent-up breath, sending a silent thank you to the ithe.
It stood next to my cage, slumped and looking about ready to collapse.
"This way, the Sutherlands will wake to find her pyre smoking in the morning." Daracha put her hands on her hips and wiggled back and forth in delight. "My only regret is that I won't be on this side to see their faces. Let's begin."
The ithe dropped his head as though looking down at me. I peered at his face, searching for signs of lucidity. "Byrne?"
He raised his head and turned around, heading back into the woods. For a time there was no sound and I watched as Daracha, humming to herself, sat on one of the stone benches and arranged her skirts beautifully around her legs.
Then the sound of breaking branches came. My heart dropped. The ithe/Byrne had brought me this far, but now it seemed he'd resumed his task of building the pyre. But at least I was in the garden now, or rather, on the edge of it. Surely this was close enough. Surely this qualified as fulfilling my end of the bargain. I strained for a view. Any moment now, Queen Elphame would appear. Hopefully in a starburst of white magic and glory.
Trying not to move so the bindings around my legs would hurt less, I forced myself to breathe. The moon was fat and full and totally visible. It had to be midnight by now. Cold light crawled its way across the garden, sending shadows slowly creeping across the ground.
The ithe reappeared, this time carrying a tree trunk over his shoulders. All the branches had been cleaned away and some of the bark.
Daracha began to sing. "Witch or Wise, loose your cries ..." The sound of the rhyme made my skin crawl, as though ants were exploring my body. I shuddered and rubbed a hand over my neck where the skin itched from an imaginary insect. Something small rolled under my fingers, something with several legs. There actually was an ant crawling on my neck.
"Sorry," I whispered, pulling my hand away so I could see it.
The ant continued trundling, unhurt. Ants were remarkably resilient. It went on to explore the back of my hand. I stared at it, surprise dawning slowly. How did an ant get into my cage?
Twisting around, I probed the small cell of my confinement more thoroughly. It looked as normal. Neon purple bars of jagged electricity criss-crossing to form asymmetrical, psychedelic chicken wire. It hummed and buzzed where the bars touched. The same magic bound my ankles and wound up my legs. Shifting my position, I bumped against the magic. It sent jolts of heat through my body where it touched me. Through the small spaces between the wires, I could see the ground below was a mere six inches away. The cage hovered, designed to keep me off the ground and away from the source of my power.
The ant was headed up my sleeve. I directed it the other way, to the end of my finger. Lowering the ant toward the ground, I urged the insect to hop off.
"Show me how you got in." A glance up every so often revealed Daracha still relaxing on the bench. The ithe went about the business of building the pyre in his plodding way.
A whiff of fresh air drifted by my nose, smelling softly of roses. I took a deep inhale, desperate for more. Another gentle breeze, concentrated, as if it were coming through a straw, wafted against my cheek. Turning my head toward the glorious smell of the garden, I scanned the cage for a breach. I could see no such breach, but lifting the ant on my finger to where the air leaked in confirmed that there was a hole. The ant stopped wandering as the air drifted over its body, its little antennae waving as if to sniff it.
On the other side of the cage where the stream of air trickled in, were the thorny branches of a rosebush. The blossom heads were folded up tight for the night, but the smell of rose still leaked into my cage.
My neck was beginning to cramp, but the revelation sent a fresh surge of hope through my body. Elphame still had not appeared, either it wasn't midnight yet and I’d missed the town clock, or ...
The bells of midnight began to toll. Every hair on my body stood at attention. I craned my aching neck, starving for a glimpse of my savior. Counting out the chimes, I held my breath as the last one echoed quietly in the distance. I strained for a view, a sign, a flash of light, the sound of her voice. Anything to give evidence that the queen had arrived, on time and ready to save me from a horrible fate.
The time drew out and the silence grew loud. Laec's voice rose in my mind. I don't think you should trust the queen.
I tried to dispel the thought. Surely Queen Elphame would not abandon me at such a critical moment. But a glance at the sky made me shiver. Shoving back at panic as it crept ever closer, I put my nose and mouth into the small stream of air. It was bigger now and I sucked it into my lungs greedily. It smelled so good, like life, and roses, and moss, and green things.
Studying the point where the air entered, I realized now I could see the breach, not just feel it. Where the nearest rosebud lay bobbing outside my cage, the air came in. The purple wires of the cage showed hints of discoloration, as if fading to grey. Where the bars crossed, there was no sound of humming electricity.
I pressed my lips together in anger as I realized that Laec had been right. The fae queen had betrayed me. I was on my own. All of my focus narrowed on that little stream of air, all of my hope hanging on it.
The ant, still on the end of my finger as though enjoying the little bath of rose-scented air, waved his antennae toward this part of the cage. As I watched, the purple color appeared to bleed slowly out of the wires.
Amazed and ignoring the risk of pain, I poked a finger at the cage and gasped as the wires snapped off, making a larger hole. Fresh air poured in. I poked my finger through the magic to the outside of the cage. What on earth? I held in a wild desire to laugh as the answer came to me in a rush.
Fyfa's roses.
Reaching outside of the cage cautiously, I deposited the ant on the end of the nearest rosebud. A stream of white energy poured into my finger from the tip of the bud, filling my body with warmth. The hole in the cage widened, the purple draining away and the bars turning light grey and brittle. When struck they cracked and fell away like cigarette ash.
My entire hand could reach outside the cage now. I cupped my palm around the rosebud. Energy flowed from the plant, into me and back again. My body began to tingle. I felt so totally in love with the rosebush that I sent it a dreamy command.
Bloom.
It was only a ghost of a thought, but it was enough. The rosebud burst open into a luscious white blossom. Its gorgeous smell hit me full in the face and I breathed deeply, filled with euphoria.
The pain in my legs lessened and I looked down to see the electric ropes turning gray and falling in drifts to the floor of the cage. The hole in the cage was now large enough for my entire arm to reach through.
With a glance at Daracha—still sitting and humming as though whiling away a beautiful summer day instead of plotting my death—and a look around for the fae queen, I knew for certain I was alone. As though to confirm this, the town bell gave a single stroke. Fifteen minutes after midnight.
In the center of the maze I could make out the top of a pyre, though the rosebushes next to my cage blocked out the rest of it. Working quickly, I used the rose blossom to disintegrate the cage. Its power leeched away bit by bit and it dropped away in gray powder.
This was why Byrne had put me here. The ros fírinn were an antidote to Daracha's magic. Half-fae truth roses had enough magic to combat the power of all the dead liars and give me a chance to fight back. Silently, I sent Fyfa thoughts of gratitude for the hybrid she'd made all those years ago.
The entire side of the cage nearest my face was now gone. Wriggling out, I landed on the ground at the base of the rosebush, drinking in the heavenly smell of dirt and garden.
Straightening, my back cracked and my legs tingled as the blood began to flow. The remains of the cage at my feet looked like something out of a nineties video game, like a fireball had struck and left a smoking hole. The single white blossom I had opened bobbed in the breeze beside the cage, wafting its scent of truth and eating away at the electricity.
I kicked off my shoes, gaze lifting to Daracha's back as she perched on the stone step, swaying to the rhythm of her own insane little song. Fyfa had wanted me to master my magic without having to take my shoes off but under the circumstances, that was wishful thinking. I needed every advantage I could muster.
I sighed as my bare feet pressed against the cool, damp soil. Energy flooded my body, making every nerve alive. My stomach flip flopped as my joints trembled with both anxiety and anger.
The witch still had no idea I was free.
I turned to see the ithe lumber from the forest with another long tree over his shoulder. He was headed for the center of the maze where a small teepee of brush had been erected around a central post. Not a full pyre yet, but well on its way.
Beneath me the earth warmed as I sent out tendrils of Wisdom to the rosebushes lying asleep under the moon. Drawing energy from them, I sent it through the earth toward the ithe and bade it enter Byrne's body. Perhaps I could encourage the ally to resurface. But the energy stopped dead where Byrne's shadowy feet met the soil, unable to penetrate. Frowning, I urged it forward, trying to force it. The ithe paused walking for a moment as if he thought he felt something, then continued as if he'd imagined it. It had been worth a shot.
As though she too had sensed something was amiss, Daracha looked casually over her shoulder at the cage. I stopped breathing and half of me wanted to crouch, to hide behind the roses, but another part of me needed to stand and fight. My frozen body made the decision for me, my gaze caught on the witch’s face.
She stopped singing and her relaxed expression transformed as her gaze flicked to where I stood at the edge of the maze. With an electric cry of outrage, Daracha sprang to her feet, hands like claws.
My thighs tensed, and it seemed as though the earth tensed too. There
was a sensation of drawing back something powerful, stretching it, pulling it, holding it. My body quivered as everything grew taut with power.
Daracha unleashed her neon lighting as I let the power go. A fantastic white flash of energy leapt from my fingertips, clashing in midair with her jagged, nuclear forks. My vision flared painfully as it was suddenly too bright to see anything but negatives of the castle and garden. A hiss filled the air, like some huge angry snake, and the sound of branches cracking against one another. The forest rustled loud, and everything living creaked and groaned as if in a hurricane. Shapes and lines thrust themselves in front of my eyes, as the smell of roses grew pungent.
When my vision returned fully, I looked around, jaw slack and heart throbbing. My bare feet pivoted in the dirt. What had I done? I choked back a wild laugh as I spun to get a full view of what had happened in the immense flash of light.
I was closed in on all sides once again, but this time by a wall of rosebushes. Thorns the size of my bent elbow gleamed razor sharp in the shadows. Tightly curled rosebuds swayed gently from long stems, heavy heads the size of full grown zucchini. The bushes towered over my head, blocking out the horizon and leaving only a strip of night sky visible. Clouds skittered by, creeping across the moon and diminishing the light. Even the turrets of Blackmouth Castle were there only if I stood on tip-toe. There was no sight of Daracha or Byrne, but there came a high-pitched cry of frustration that drew a shiver of horror from the deepest part of my heart.
I couldn't see her, but she was definitely still here.
I'd turned the garden maze into a genuine labyrinth.
Chapter Twenty-One
"What is this?" Daracha screamed as a faint glow of purple light bloomed in the sky just above the labyrinth from the direction I'd last seen her. Mingling with the smell of roses came the smell of charcoal.
"Where are you?" Her voice was ragged with fury. This cry was followed by a low string of muttered words I couldn't understand. The muttering sound moved, somewhere off in the rosebushes to my right.