Hex Appeal: A Hexy Witch Mystery (Womby's School for Wayward Witches Book 15)

by Sarina Dorie

  I laughed, nervously, wondering if this was a joke. I could never tell with him. I heard a scuff on the floor behind me, but when I turned my head, I saw no one.

  I tried to yank my hands away, pushing magic into my will, but his grip was firm, both physically and magically. “For real, why are you tying me up?”

  “I just told you.” He used the remaining length of cravat to tie my feet together.

  The sweat clinging to my skin turned cold. “Is this part of your plan? This is how we’re going to rescue my mom?”

  He crouched down and heaved me over his shoulder. “You’ll find out, won’t you?”

  Something whispered in the hallway that I couldn’t see. Perhaps he was saying this for someone else’s benefit.

  I could barely breathe with his shoulder pressed into my gut. “You don’t need to do this. I can walk.”

  “Stop talking, or I’ll gag you too.”

  My heart pounded erratically in my chest. I didn’t doubt gagging me wasn’t an idle threat. What if he had slipped into the bottomless pit of pain magic and hadn’t actually climbed out? He might have only been pretending to have recovered. I wanted to see his eyes.

  I tried to reach out with my awareness to see him, but anxiety made me bounce around. I sensed the presence of others in the hallway, though I didn’t see them. Maybe all this was for show. He had to gain the Raven Queen’s favor by making it look as though he were on her side. I had to look scared, but I wasn’t much of an actress, so I had to be scared.

  That’s what I kept telling myself.

  He strode down the hallway, each footstep jostling me on his shoulder and stealing my breath.

  He patted my backside. “Relax, Clarissa. Being a captive is easy. You could do it with your hands tied behind your back.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Odette Thatch’s School of Survival: Lesson One

  I expected I would be presented to the queen. Instead, Thatch brought me to a grungy cell two floors above and left me there. I was full of magic from earlier, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I sat against a wall, reaching out with my mind for my mom in her cell.

  I couldn’t feel her.

  I expanded my awareness farther, ignoring the chill seeping into my consciousness as I encountered little imps in the shadows and spindly creatures skulking along hallways. In a cell nearby sat an emaciated sasquatch, open sores along his wrists and ankles where manacles made of cold iron had rubbed him raw. I still couldn’t find my mom, the reason I was here.

  I considered whether it was time to use the competency pill or not. Once I used it, I couldn’t have another for hours.

  Not that I had another one to use anyway.

  Footsteps echoed down the hall toward me. I stood, awaiting the Raven Queen and my fate.

  The door creaked open. Odette stood there, a frown on her perfect face. She looked so much like Felix Thatch, it was strange seeing his features worn on a stranger. Creatures with bird heads stood behind her. I didn’t see my husband.

  “Where’s Felix?” I asked.

  “None of your concern.” She flicked a hand at me. The bindings fell away. She sauntered in, eyeing me dispassionately. Her gaze flickered to the friendship bracelet around my wrist. The pink and white threads unraveled and fell to the floor. So much for using that.

  “Where’s my fairy godmother?” I knew I wasn’t supposed to expose my weaknesses in case the Fae chose to exploit them to bend me to their will. But I suspected Odette already knew of my love for both these people.

  “Your mother is safe. More or less.”

  “Is Felix safe?”

  She inclined her head. “He is with Her Majesty. Either he’s being rewarded for bringing you to her, or he’s being punished for not coming sooner. I never can quite tell with him.”

  That meant he was being tortured, either with pleasure or pain. Hopefully that meant his magic would be gaining strength. That also meant he would be unpredictable. He might lose control.

  Her gaze raked me up and down. “Do you wish to be the queen’s guest or prisoner?”

  “What’s the difference?” I asked.

  A sardonic smile laced her lips, reminding me of her brother. “Guests get to wear prettier clothes when they’re presented to the queen.”

  I considered how unpleasant being dressed by servants of the Silver Court had been, and that hadn’t been meant to be intentionally demoralizing. Elric’s court was halfway decent—which wasn’t saying much. I had no idea what the Raven Court might do when they removed my clothes. Plus, I didn’t want to lose my jeans and the lozenge I’d hidden there.

  “I’m fine with being a prisoner,” I said.

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Very well. Her Majesty will come calling after you’ve been treated to a few rounds of torture—as is her custom with prisoners. Or perhaps she’ll have you stripped naked and lashed as the court watches. Depending on her mood, she might find another manner to use you to amuse herself.” She nodded to one of the guards. He stepped aside so she could pass between them and out the door.

  Horror jolted through me at her words. What had I agreed to? The guard started to close the door.

  “Wait!” I said. “Is it too late to be a guest instead?”

  She sighed and signaled for the man to halt. The door opened wider. “Felix warned me you would be like this. Contradictory and impulsive. I suppose you can change your mind. Just this once. But you’d best make sure you ask questions first when the queen gives you a choice. One doesn’t make bargains with Fae without learning all the details—not if one wishes to survive.”

  A teachable moment. She wasn’t so different from her brother in that regard either. I wondered how many lessons they’d endured together in the school of survival. It sounded like it was best to ask questions.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “If I become the Raven Queen’s guest, does that mean she’s less likely to hurt me? Will she let me see Felix and my fairy godmother?”

  “There’s a chance.”

  “If I’m her guest, does that mean I should give her a gift?” I patted my pockets. My wand was gone, not that I expected her to want a hot-pink striped stick of wood. I wasn’t going to give up my competency lozenge. I had a tissue in my jacket pocket.

  She chuckled. “A gift from you is unnecessary. According to Felix, you are the gift.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Birds of a Feather

  I considered hiding the lozenge in my underpants like I had in the Silver Court, but I didn’t know if I would be permitted to keep any undergarments. As Odette removed me from the dungeon and escorted me to a guest room, I managed to slip it out of my pocket unnoticed and place it under my tongue. It tasted horrible, and I fought to keep a straight face when Odette addressed me.

  Unlike the Silver Court’s guest rooms full of clear crystal and polished stones in the walls, furniture made of living trees, and silver-and-white brocade that made the décor feel like an elven palace Tolkien might have visited—the Raven Court’s rooms were more like a vampire bordello.

  For hating Red affinities and being the mastermind behind snuffing out our existence, there was a lot of red brocade and velvet the hue of wine set among black panels and gray slate. Tall windows spanned one wall, and decorative arches brimming with filigree reminiscent of the rococo style filled the room. Metalwork cast into patterns of roses with thorny vines encased the windowpanes, so pretty I almost forgot it was meant to bar one from escaping. The murals painted into panels shifted like black mist across a crimson sunset. A painting on the wall depicted the queen on her throne.

  Odette instructed three women in how I was to be attired. “She may keep her stockings and shoes. Felix Thatch said it might amuse Her Majesty if she sees how a Witchkin attires her feet.”

  Maybe the queen liked stripes.

  The maidservants kept their gazes downcast as Odette spoke. The three women were dressed in simple gr
ay uniforms that reminded me of an earlier era.

  They didn’t destroy my clothes or glare at me spitefully as the servants in the Silver Court had done. The oldest of the women helped me out of my coat, her fingers gnarled with arthritis. The youngest brushed my hair, the strokes of the hairbrush gentle.

  Odette seated herself near the door on a bench that looked more decorative than comfortable. The guards with bird heads watched impassively.

  I whispered to the maid holding up a slip that appeared to be made out of black shadows, “Are the guards going to stay here and watch?”

  The old woman nodded.

  She tried to remove my torn jeans, but I placed a hand on hers. “Can I turn around?”

  The maid glanced at the guards and back to me. She didn’t stop me from turning away.

  Odette crossed into my line of sight.

  I looked from her to the maid. “Am I allowed any privacy?”

  Odette chuckled. “No.”

  I should have made a better attempt at concealing my surprise. That was what Felix Thatch would have done. He was so skilled at hiding himself, even now I didn’t know his true motivations. I didn’t know whether he’d gone off the deep end with pain magic or he’d told me I shouldn’t trust him because he was putting on a show for anyone watching.

  Odette laughed harder, seeing my expression. “Guest as you are, you’re the daughter of a dangerous Witchkin. Do you truly think it would be appropriate to leave you unguarded? You might harm someone, drain them of magic, or . . . experiment on them.”

  The youngest of the women stared at me with wide eyes as if fearing I might do one of those things to her. The maids worked quietly, efficiently. They were gentle, whether out of fear or kindness. Occasionally, one patted another or shifted me one way or another to remove my jeans, but they respected my request to keep my back turned to the guards.

  One of the women tried to remove the amulet from the Silver Court, but she couldn’t.

  “It was a gift from a Fae prince. It can’t be removed,” I said. “It’s to protect me.”

  The woman looked to Odette. The Raven Queen’s pet flicked a hand in my direction. “Leave it. The queen can decide what to do about it, and if it’s worth removing.”

  The maid bowed her head.

  “Can I keep the rest of my clothes?” I asked. They weren’t made of organic cotton, and the Silver Court always made me change while in their castle. I didn’t expect the answer to be yes. The maids looked from me to Odette.

  She waved a hand at me dismissively. “You are our guest. Whatever makes you most comfortable.” She smiled a little too sweetly. I had a feeling my comfort was the last thing the Queen of Pleasure and Pain cared about.

  The maids ducked their heads and continued to work. Their silence unnerved me.

  “How long have you worked here?” I asked the youngest woman.

  She shook her head.

  Odette seated herself on a bed. “They aren’t going to answer you.”

  “Is it against the rules?”

  “Queen Morgaine doesn’t like servants who talk. Nor would she allow any to repeat what they might overhear.” Odette snapped her fingers at the girl. “Show them what you gave the queen in exchange for employment.”

  The girl frowned, looking from me to Odette. She opened her mouth and showed me her stump of a tongue.

  Icicles skated down my spine.

  This only reminded me more acutely of the danger I was in. Any misstep might result in losing a limb—or my soul. My legs felt jittery. I didn’t know if that was the start of the competency potion.

  The gown the maids sewed onto me was so formfitting, it left little to the imagination. They must not have used much magic in their sewing because the fabric didn’t react to the synthetic materials in my clothes. Black lace was layered over red chiffon, hiding my Morty-made garments beneath. Scalloped layers of black-fringed feathers lined the shirt. The train was so long it would be dragging behind me.

  I wondered if I was going to a ball as I had at the Silver Court. At least this wasn’t a dress made for dancing.

  It took them over an hour to dress me. My hair and makeup took another hour. The last time I had taken the competency lozenge, it had only taken an hour to start to kick in. I wasn’t sure I felt any different yet.

  The entire time, I wondered about my husband and how he fared. What was his plan B? To trick the Raven Queen or to sell out? I tried to reach out to find my fairy godmother, but I still couldn’t sense her.

  When I was at last presented to the Raven Queen, she sat on her throne in a grand hall. On top of her head she wore a black crown that could have been made from an oil slick, the iridescent colors melting into black spires that were reminiscent of the castle’s architecture. She wore her midnight hair down, the long locks flowing over her shoulders. She looked like she belonged to this setting, sharp and regal.

  The gilded walls surpassed the extravagance of the baroque decorations I’d come across before, only these were more macabre. Columns of artfully arranged bones formed arches. Skulls were set into the stone walls. The shadows stretched out toward me. I tried to ignore the churning in my belly.

  It seemed that the competency potion was taking a long time to work. I didn’t feel as if I knew all the answers or understood what to do yet.

  My eyes skipped over the queen in her black plumage on her throne and settled on Felix Thatch. He sat beside the queen’s throne, on the floor, dressed in a black mantle of feathers. One side of his face was bruised. The queen stroked his midnight locks of hair, iridescent like the raven plumage of his mantle.

  He stood and bowed as I paused in front of the Raven Queen. That prompted me to remember my manners. I curtsied deeply, keeping my gaze on the floor as I had read one was to do in the presence of royalty.

  Thatch strode forward and took my hand. The irises of his eyes had been swallowed by black. I forced myself not to flinch away from him as he took my hand and brought it to his lips. He turned back to the queen.

  “You have met Clarissa Lawrence, daughter of Alouette Loraline, but you have not been introduced to Clarissa Thatch, my wife.” A sly smile curled his lips upward.

  I couldn’t read the meaning between his words. Was this his way of pretending to be forthcoming and loyal, to deceive the Raven Queen? I still didn’t feel the competency potion kicking in.

  Queen Morgaine Le Fay inclined her head in acknowledgment. “She’s quite the prize.”

  “Indeed.” Thatch lifted the hem of my skirt just enough to show off my socks. “Do you see? Just like Alouette.”

  That was why I had been allowed to keep my shoes and socks? To be compared to the wickedest witch who had ever lived? I plastered a pleasant smile on my face, trying not to allow my irritation to show.

  The Raven Queen shook her head. “The choice of slippers leaves something to be desired. Why did you insist she keep those Morty monstrosities?”

  Thatch allowed the hem of my dress to fall. “My darling Clarissa has had some problems with foot apparel in the past. I wouldn’t want another repeat of such an incident.” His gaze fell to the woman seated beside the queen.

  My stomach dropped.

  There sat Quenylda, Princess of Lies and Truth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Birds of a Feather

  The Raven Queen’s gaze flickered to the Fae woman seated beside her. Quenylda was dressed in a silver gown, the gossamer threads a dark tarnish compared to what I had seen her wear in her own court. Her long hair was piled on top of her head in a strange imitation of a beehive, though no bees were present. Nor did she wear a crown.

  Had I not been so transfixed by the Raven Queen and then Felix Thatch, I might have noticed Quenylda sooner. Now that I’d spotted her, it was difficult not to feel her malicious gaze probing me for weakness. She didn’t hide the displeasure from her face as she eyed the amulet Elric had given me.

  The Princess of Lies
and Truth was supposed to be under house arrest in the safekeeping of her father’s castle. I didn’t know whom I feared more, Princess Quenylda or Queen Morgaine. For a moment I thought about the mirage spell I had been working on with Thatch. I would have liked to make a doppelgänger of myself so I could escape at that moment.

  But I couldn’t yet. I needed to find my mom and help her escape.

  The Raven Queen slapped the princess’s arm with her fan. “Ma chére, you wouldn’t dare enchant my guest’s shoes to make her dance all night and day like you did with Priscilla that one time, would you?”

  Thatch’s brows drew together. His younger sister?

  Quenylda shrugged. “I am a muse.”

  “Just not a-musing,” I said.

  The queen laughed. “Such wit! I knew this one would be an entertaining guest.”

  “Indeed,” Thatch said in his dry monotone.

  I held my chin high and met Quenylda’s gaze.

  Black spindly vines crisscrossed over the pale fabric of exposed petticoats at Quenylda’s feet, the contrast stark against the silver. Her eyes shifted colors like a kaleidoscope.

  Thatch followed my gaze before addressing the queen. “It would be a pity for such a prize to go to waste. I believe you even said so yourself. You didn’t want to lose this one as we did Alouette Loraline.” He stroked a finger across my cheek.

  I mentally prepared myself for pain. He smoothed a finger across my lips. “She truly is lovely. Delectable. Delicious.”

  “Stop, Felix! You’re making me hungry!” the Raven Queen laughed.

  He smiled, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes.

  Tittering came from the shadows. The gray gloom at the corners of the room shifted. I knew there were creatures there, but I didn’t dare distract myself by stretching my awareness out and probing to see how many.

  “I know I could eat her up,” Quenylda smiled, teeth sharp in the light of the candelabra. “Pray, when is supper? Will the little Witchkin be the main course?”