I would not answer, the smallest hint of humiliation broke through the calm. “I’d like for you to take another form,” I said. Not Luka, not his face. It didn’t feel right with his face. “Please,” I said in a small voice.
“No, I don’t think you should,” he smirked. “Or if I did,” he said, “I don’t think you would like it.” He tilted his head at me, taking a step forward as he remembered, “but nothing scares you right now, does it?”
“No.” I felt nothing but calm.
Delighted, he leaned forward again, lifting my jaw up to face him and commanding, “you will not scream, and you will not move.”
With that simple statement, I felt the fear hit me full force, all of my senses rushing back to me quickly yet my body not being able to move, to properly run.
“Excellent,” he said, dropping me. “You are so interesting. I thought you to be important when I saw you behind the King’s men climbing up the mountain side, but I could not figure out why. Even with you standing here, completely at my beck and call, I find it a little difficult—but then I remember the sparks. You’re like Adam, aren’t you?”
“You know Adam?”
“I know of him,” the creature corrected. “But the King has made sure that he cannot be charmed,” he pouted. “A shame, I would look dashing with a crown.”
“What do you really look like?” I pressed, desperate to convince him to stop wearing Luka’s face.
“I don’t think you would like to see that,” he replied. “You would think this to be far prettier,” I could hear the hunger mixed with humor in his voice. Somehow, he pushed past it. “What are you here for?” He asked, tilting his head ever so slightly, his face quizzical in a way that Luka’s was not. “Why did the King bring you here?”
“To watch over the woods,” I replied, seeing no point in lying.
“And how would you do that?”
“Kill any stray Unseelie and eventually press further into them.”
He straightened, his jaw tightening. “Interesting,” he said.
He paused, his eyes taking me in as, in the distant background, I was still being called by a desperate Adam. I wondered what the Unseelie was doing, if he was debating something.
Even as he stood, he had a sort of oddness to him; a slight fall to his shoulders and a persistent licking at the corner of his mouth. It was a terrifying realization, the one that he might truly eat humans. He stood so close to me, his chest mere inches from mine.
Maybe he was deciding whether his starvation would win out. Perhaps, if I were lucky, he would eat me instead of subjecting me to whatever game he was playing.
But instead of making any sense, he decided to proclaim, “the story is not as they say, you know.”
My eyebrows narrowed and, if I had the ability to, my head would have tilted. I think he took it to be interest, which was good, because I wasn’t in the mood to die; but it was genuine confusion instead. For just once, I would have liked to meet a person who made sense.
“The Night King,” he said. “How the Seelie came to rule this country,” his voice was tense, strained even. “History is always recorded by the victors,” he continued.
That was something Luka might have actually said. It would have been comforting if I didn’t know there to be a monster in front of me, wearing Luka’s face to lure me in. I had to keep remembering what he was, that this wasn’t Luka, it couldn’t be Luka. The long points at the ends of his ears confirmed that.
I had to keep him distracted. He seemed to be a higher Unseelie, a frightening one, that would keep the others away. If my search party managed to pull themselves together for five seconds and I kept him stalled, perhaps there was hope for me. The ones that were more magical and intelligent were considered higher ranking in the formal classification system of Unseelie types.
I just had to keep him happy. That was the important thing to remember.
“There are no victors in the story of Whynne,” I said. Because there weren’t, not in any history book or family tales. Not in my story, as I learned.
“Yes,” said the Unseelie, stepping closer, “but there’s no truth in it either. I know the story you were told, and it is all lies.”
“That’s not possible,” I said quickly, because it couldn’t be. There was no way, I’d seen the proof all around me, I’d read and copied all of the textbooks. I wore a token of the olden days.
“Tell me how the Seelie came to rule the country,” he said, “and I will leave you here for your friends.”
“I don’t wish to make a bargain with you,” I said sharply.
“I’m sure you do not,” the Unseelie dismissed. “But I have other ways of making you talk.” He stepped closer again, far too close, his chest pressing up against mine. “Speak,” he said, and though I could move, I could do nothing else.
It fell out of me. “There was a war,” I said, “the Unseelie were stealing children, they were pushing out of the forest and hurting people.”
“Wrong,” he cut in, but I was not slowed.
“But the Seelie worked with the other fae, and they were willing to come to peace with the humans,” I said. “The humans came to sign a peace treaty.”
“Wrong,” once again, he spoke.
“The King sent one of his closest friends, Mikhail Anderson. He was trusted to get the treaty signed and bring it back, but he knew that if he did, the war would end.”
“Lies.”
“Mikhail wanted to be a war hero, he wanted to be a well-known general. That couldn’t happen if there was no war to fight. He went into the forest and came back, telling his men that they refused to sign the treaty, and they should begin to burn the leaves upon the forest floor and anything else they could find.”
“A truth, but only half of one.”
“The forest burnt for weeks.”
“Finally,” he said, sounding almost relieved, “a whole truth.”
“And so, the Seelie stormed the palace, fighting day and night with the humans. But they couldn’t win on their own, so they had to pair with the Unseelie. When they finally reached ceasefire with the humans, the humans demanded that the Unseelie be removed, and the Seelie agreed, never specifying when. Then, in exchange for the promise, they sent the country of Whynne into an endless night, one that lasted for over a century. Until the previous queen ended it.”
“And then proceeded to slaughter the Unseelie left and right,” he said boredly. “Not caring who, or what she destroyed.”
My eyes flickered up to him in interest; it was an opinion I shared, partially, but not one I would ever speak out loud. Remembering myself and my newly found freedom, however, I took a step back, knowing that I should run away but I was still interested in the strange thing before me.
I never had much in the way of survival skills.
“Let me tell you the real story,” he began, his voice sounding less and less like Luka by the minute, morphing into something new. “The Unseelie kept to the woods as they were meant to, as this is our home, and the humans pushed in, wanting more and more. The King was mad that we didn’t take kindly to that, and so he sent out an absolute brute of a man, Mikhail Anderson under the guise of a treaty. But there was no treaty, and at first there was no fire.” His eyes constricted with anger, “let me tell you what humans do, my dear. They see something that they want, and they take it. They take and they take, and they keep taking until it isn’t there anymore, then they find something new to steal.”
Seeing me take another step back, he lunged forward, ceasing my wrist and holding it tightly even as I tried to pull away.
“It’s in your nature,” he said, jerking me back towards him. “Do not make me coerce you again, girl,” he warned. “You will not like the things I do.”
“I told you the story,” I said, attempting to pull my wrist back. “That was what I promised.”
“And I am correcting it,” he hissed. “Your darling human king did not come for peace, humans never do. He did
not send his fool to the woods for diplomacy, I know because I was there—young, but still there. He sent him to get the wood from the great rowan tree and the elder tree of the north, the trees from which all Seelie and Unseelie fae were made. The Seelie from the rowan tree, a tree of wisdom and courage, and the Unseelie from the elder tree, a tree that can only bring misery and suffering—He needed both of them.”
“Why would he do that?” I asked, watching as the fae grew more upset, his features contorting with fury.
“To rule the fae,” he spat, and the words were far more vile and awful sounding than I, one who formerly hated him, could ever imagine the true Luka saying. It was almost like they were poisonous to the fae, this painful, stabbing thing. “Wood from both, the forest burnt to cover his tracks. A sliver of rowan for the Seelie, and a splinter of elder for the Unseelie, to be fashioned into a crown for the great oaf of a human king to wear atop his head. A crown that now sits atop that egotistical prince’s head. A crown that lets him command all those he meets, but keeps those of us who live in the forest just out of his reach.” He hissed, “the rowan is replanted in the palace courtyard, blending into the trees there. The elder remains in these woods, atop this mountain.”
His fingers loosened, and for a moment I thought we were done. I hoped we were done.
Then they tightened again, his eyes beginning to move, something flashing through his mind as he stared at me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“You promised,” I began, panicking as I looked down at his hand.
“I did not promise,” he said, and his voice sunk back into that low, measured tone that Luka spoke in so often. “Perhaps we should make a deal,” he began, his nails digging into my skin, but then his eyes scanned me, a sharp breath escaping him. “Maybe not.”
I had no understanding of what was going on, not in the slightest. All I did know was the pain I felt, the sharp stab of those nails digging into my skin, somehow becoming so much longer than Luka’s.
“You should return to me,” he said. “But you will not, will you?”
Could he tell if I lied? “Please let me go.”
“You won’t,” he decided, scowling.
I wouldn’t, no. Not on my own, never again. Not after this, not for fear of seeing him. “Let me go,” I repeated, “your charm already lifted when you used another one, I will scream if I have to, and kick if you take that away. I will get away from you, no matter what you do.”
“Oh, I have no doubt in that,” he said, and suddenly he was upon me, his hand on my throat and my back up against a tree. Because I was stupid, because I talked and did not run. I don’t know how, but I should have ran, I should have found a way.
I couldn’t even gasp. I could only stare, looking at Luka, the face that I knew so well, and struggling to breathe. It’s not him, I reminded myself as the face leaned in so close, his breath mingling with mine. Luka would never hurt me.
“You think me beautiful like this, don’t you?” It asked. “You wish for this form, don’t you?” A haze, there was a haze.
My feet kicked furiously, my hands reaching up to claw at his, the tears welling in the corners of my eyes. I should have ran; I should have thought for once in my life. Even if he hunted me down, even if something else found me, it had to be better than this.
“Look me in the eyes,” he demanded, his fingers tightening. “Don’t you want that to be the last thing you see? Look me in the eyes and you can pretend that they’re his.”
I squeezed my eyes shut instead, desperate not to. Desperate not to look and let whatever words he said take full effect. If I kept my eyes closed, I could survive. I had the determination, I knew. I was stubborn, I’d always been told that it was my worst trait.
“Look me in the eyes,” he demanded, his voice dripping with malice as his hand tightened, almost cutting off my air.
He was so powerful, his voice dripping with coercion and sounding exactly like Luka’s. I wondered how many he’d forced this way; how many had heard the voice of a lover begging them to look their way? Combined with coercion, how would you resist?
“There you are,” he said, his fingers loosening. Suddenly, he was consuming again, mystifying even. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I wanted him to charm me. I wanted him to touch me. I wanted his fingers around my throat. Anything for him; this lovely thing, this beautiful version of Luka.
“You want to come back, don’t you, Wren?” And I did, I wanted it more than anything in the world.
I could have cried with how much I wanted it. I imagined seeing him again, being held so securely like I was just moments before—even if it did hurt immensely.
“And you will,” he said, my brain only vaguely registering that the sounds in the background had grown louder and the forest darker. I could see the orange hue of a flame in the distance. “When I call for you, you will come back to me.”
I nodded. I would, I would crawl through hot coals if that meant coming back.
“Good,” he said.
And just like that, he was gone. My body collapsed to the ground, the sting of air filling my throat as a gasp tore through my body. A small, soft sob escaped me as I heard the crunching of leaves grow nearer. My body heaved with every breath.
And yet I felt numb, far away from that place. Like I was in another land, one with soft black eyes that pulled me further and further under the tide.
“Wren,” I heard the voice soft and questioning from the other side of the ring of trees. “Wren!” Feet pounding against the earth, an orange light growing larger and larger.
I felt myself wheeze, laying pathetically against the base of the tree.
Adam grabbed me, his hands pulling at me, hauling my limp body to my knees. He grasped my face in his hands with wide eyes, turning it from side to side as I flinched, the bruises not yet beginning to show.
“Wren,” he repeated, almost hysterical. I thought back to how he had introduced me, his other half. “I’ve got her,” he called over his shoulder loudly, hauling me up and into his arms as he came to the obvious conclusion that I could not walk. He didn’t ask if I was okay, because I wasn’t. He knew.
It was funny, just two months ago, if he had grabbed me at all, I would have screamed.
“We’re going to get you home, okay?” He reassured. “We’re going to get you back to Luka.”
I felt a shiver run down my spine at the assertion.
Chapter Thirteen
“Where is she?”
Those were the first words I could make out as I was laid upon a kitchen table, my eyes stuck to the ceiling and my limbs splayed limply about the table. Around me, a small crowd had begun to form, ebbing in and out of sight as my head lulled from side to side, my mind still hazy.
“She’s dead,” Lindy pronounced wryly, no doubt taking in the purple rings around my neck and the glassiness of my eyes. “I will remember her,” I heard her scoff as she was shoved away, likely thinking her joke to be quite funny.
A face forced itself into my view, having shoved its way through the others to get closer. Luka. He must have been the one to speak, because I was sure that the lumbering mass Adam had walked beside on our way out of the forest was Nikolas, Lindy trailing close behind him. A part of me wondered if they somehow got Luka to stay home.
“Wren,” he said, his hands coming down to my cheeks, wincing as he took in my neck. All around me, I could hear people talk in low, hushed voices, crowding the table pulling at my body and my clothes—but I only focused on him.
He was still mystifying, the only thing I wished to see. I practically marveled at him, how angelic he looked illuminated by the light. His hands were on my skin. It was a wonder that his hands were on my skin, soft and warm, gently holding it. I wanted to kiss his fingers.
He was perfect, I could have cried. Luka was perfect.
“That’s not fair,” I moaned, reaching for him with clumsy hands. “You can’t look at me like that, Kinsley, you’
ll ruin me.” The smallest part of me felt violently embarrassed, but I couldn’t understand why.
“Wren,” he said my name again. Angelic, I could not believe it. His face showed worry, but he was so intoxicating. I wished he would come closer. I wished he would place his head against mine once more.
My god, I wished he would kiss me. I half closed my eyes, hoping it would entice him. He looked astounded at the slight tremble in my lips.
“Hold her down,” a voice commanded to my left as I stared at him, wanting the moment to last forever. His hands were still on me, oh my god, his hands were still touching me. I mean there were other hands too and those weren’t nice, but his hands were there. I wanted to lean into them, drinking in his touch—
A scream tore through my body, my foot kicking high in the air as I felt a sudden stab, sending my eyes far back in my head.
“There we go, there we go,” a voice called, “give her a slap just to be sure.”
I felt the sting of a hand smack across my cheek. Immediately, I jerked upwards, my eyes wide as I held my cheek, then looked down at the hand I was holding it with and realized I was smearing blood across it.
“There she is,” I heard Adam reassure as I took in Lindy in front of me, her hand bright red and her mouth grinning impossibly wide. “Look at that, she’s back!”
I turned to send him a glare and then, remembering who distracted me, shot Luka one as well.
He suddenly did not look so beautiful anymore.
“Back to her normal self,” I heard Adam reassure, his hand patting my shoulder as I gave Luka a look that could have strangled him right there.
Quill and Cobweb (The Chronicles of Whynne Book 2) Page 11