“Daman will never betray the location of Mother Briar’s daughter,” the pixie muttered. “The old bat was too cruel to the goblin girl, Daman would never risk her life by telling anyone where she is—not even the woman who transfixes him so.”
Corrine paused, a sudden thought occurring to her. She slanted a glance at the pixie. “Do… Do you know where the goblin girl is?”
“No. Nagas are much like their draconic ancestors in their ability to keep a secret. If the naga does not wish for the goblin girl to be found, it would take much to find her.”
“But you could do it.”
The pixie shook her head, frowning as her hair stuck to one of the bars of her cage. “No. Even if I wanted to help you—and at the moment I don’t,” she added, looking pointedly at the cage. “I would need help from my brethren. It would take me ages to find her by myself.” She tried to pull her hair free of the bar, the effort drawing the skin from her face until her eyes were mere slits. “And there’s no way I could convince enough of them to help—not when they would be risking the fury of the naga who wished the location to remain a secret.” She grunted.
Corrine drummed the fingers of one hand against the opposite arm. No help there, then.
“Well, then I guess there’s only one thing to do.”
Ignoring the protests from the pixie, she packed the cage and some potions in her satchel and laced it up tight. After giving herself a moment to calm the last of her nerves, she marched to the door, thrust back the lock, and ripped the door open.
Her father jumped as she stormed into the main room of the cottage on her way to the front door. He was seated in the chair by the fireplace where an episode had struck her and left her lying helplessly with her hand on the hearth. The memory twisted her stomach and Corrine kept moving, determined to keep the memory from sinking its claws in deep enough to slow her down.
“Corrine,” her father said, wariness in his voice. “Where are you going, child?”
“To get my sister back.” Her hand tightened on the door handle, the aged metal creaking in her unforgiving grip.
Her father rose from his seat, wringing his hands in front of him. “Corrine, please. You have to accept your sister’s choice—we both do. We cannot—”
“We are not going to do anything. I am going to get Maribel. Perhaps you’re content to sit in that chair and do nothing, but I refuse to let that monster keep my little sister.” She fixed her father with the glare that had been her most frequent expression for the last few days when dealing with her parental figure. “After all, someone has to do what’s right for this family.”
Her father flinched as though she’d physically struck him. Corrine wished she had something else to say, something else to throw at him to make him suffer as much as she was. Didn’t he feel Maribel’s absence? Didn’t he think of her laugh, her smile, the way she hummed stupid little nonsense songs while she was cooking?
She was sick of seeing him go on with his life as if nothing had happened. After they’d lost all their money, their home, their friends, her father had picked up and moved on as though it were nothing. He’d bought this miserable farm, put his daughters to work, and acted like life was wonderful again. Then he’d lost Maribel, allowed her to go to that beast. And the bastard didn’t even care about that!
“Corrine, you’re always telling me that you’re sick, that you’re too weak to work outside. And yet now you’re perfectly willing to go traipsing off through the forest—”
“Shut up!” Rage seized Corrine in a suffocating grip, raking claws over her voice until it was as rough as evergreen bark. “You don’t get to believe in my illness when it suits you and forget it otherwise. You don’t—”
She bit her words off, shifting her bag in her grip, trying to calm down. She couldn’t leave in a rage, it was too dangerous to get that emotional when she was going to be alone. Breathe…calm down…it’s all right. “I’m going to get Maribel back,” she said, her voice only slightly breathless. She stared hard into her father’s eyes, putting as much disdain as she could manage into her expression, wanting to be absolutely certain he wouldn’t interfere. “Go sit in your chair.”
As predicted, her father’s face crumbled under her derision. He collapsed back into the chair like a marionette who’d had its strings hacked off, bones jarring with the impact as he hit the cushions.
Corrine gave him one last disgusted look and then left, heading into the dark forest to find her sister with her heart bleeding inside her.
Chapter Eleven
“Your ssisster iss the witch who curssed me, and if it weren’t for you, I would have her here now.”
Daman’s words echoed in Maribel’s head and she clenched her teeth. The dirt slicked rock slipped in her fingertips and she firmed her grip, heaving it into the lake. The rock landed with a satisfying smack on the water’s surface. Water sprayed up into the air, disturbing the peace. She scanned the ground for another properly sized rock. As good as it felt to be throwing things into Daman’s precious lake, she would have felt even better if she had enough rocks to fill the damn thing. Let him try to swim in wet stones.
She hefted another rock into the water. “That’s for you, Daman.” She gripped another, craggy rock. Heaving it with all her might into the lake, she grunted, “And that’s for you, Mother Briar!”
That lying witch. Filling Maribel’s head with ridiculous romantic notions of a beast who needed true love to save him from his curse. What a fool she’d been to fall for such nonsense. How simple-minded did she have to be to put one ounce of belief in such falderal? How desperate did she have to be to want to believe it?
“And you’re even more foolish for not leaving immediately,” she scolded herself. “He wants you to leave, so you should leave. How pathetic must he think you to see you staying where you’re not wanted?”
“Not ssso foolisssh.”
Maribel jumped and dropped the rock she was holding on the end of her toe. She shouted and cursed in a most unladylike manner, hopping on her uninjured foot as pain radiated with ridiculous intensity from her toe. When she was sure she could speak without spewing profanity, she faced the sound of the voice.
“You!” She pointed at the silver winged snake hanging from a tree branch like calcified ivy. “What do you want?”
“Jussst checking to sssee how thingsss are going.” The snake looked pointedly at the rock beside her foot and then at the lake. “He ssswimsss when he isss feeling ssstressssssed. Are you trying to keep him on edge?”
Maribel slanted a glare at the lake. “Why not? He’d driving me to the edge. Why should I be the only one to squirm?”
The snake blinked. “Sssquirm?”
“You probably knew all along though, didn’t you?” Maribel muttered.
“Knew what?”
“Knew that he never wanted me here. You probably knew that the only reason he demanded my father send his daughter here to take his place was because he thought my father would bring my sister. He thinks she’s the witch that cursed him and he wanted to bring her here so he could force her to lift the curse.”
“Sshe would have removed her cursse from me, or elsse I would have finally had my revenge.”
“Or worse,” she added. Her stomach twisted at the last thought, dropping further at the memory of the hissing snarl Daman’s voice had become. Despite his temper, she truly hadn’t wanted to believe Daman was capable of anything horrendous. The thought that he was serious about getting revenge, that he might have hurt Corrine…
“Ssso now you know about your sssissster?”
Maribel kicked a rock, crying out as her toe screamed in outrage, reminding her of its earlier injury. She collapsed to the ground, grabbing her aching foot. “I know that he thinks she’s the one who cursed him,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “What I don’t understand is why.”
“You think he isss missstaken?”
“All I know is that my sister has not left my side since we moved
out here, the only time she’s alone at all is when she’s cleaning the house and I’m out in the fields.” Maribel closed her eyes, wincing at the throb in her toe. “I don’t see how it could have been her.”
The cuelebre twined around the tree, corkscrewing down the trunk. “If it were within her power to get here on her own, without your knowledge, do you think ssshe would have attempted it?”
Maribel opened her mouth to say absolutely not, then hesitated. The rock in her hands was suddenly intensely interesting. The surface was damp, making the grey stone black, and it was coated in enough dirt to give it a gritty texture. “She’s been hiding food again.”
“Hiding…food?”
“Yes.” Maribel shifted uneasily, feeling uncomfortable discussing Corrine’s personal life this way. It was wrong to talk about her with a stranger, and yet… Dammit, she needed to talk to someone. Someone had to understand why Corrine couldn’t possibly be the monster Daman believed her to be.
“When she was young, Father was always afraid she’d have an episode while she was eating and choke on her food. He used to limit how much he allowed her to eat.” She bit her lip, focusing on the lake, on the ripples fading into glass-like smoothness. “His intentions were good, but I think it hurt more than it helped. Corrine panicked a lot, she worried about starving. She got better when she got older, and the episodes were further apart so Father relaxed the limitations on her food.” She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face. “Then we came here.”
“And the episssodesss worsssened?”
“Terribly so. I don’t know if it was that one hard winter when food was scarce that scared her, or if there’s something about being out here in and of itself, but she’s nearly as bad now as she was before. Worse in some ways. Now she’s afraid to go outside most times. She complains more, she’s never happy, she…”
Daman was right. Maribel had used him as an excuse to leave, an excuse to leave Corrine behind because trying to keep her happy was becoming too…draining.
“Would being missstressssss of thisss manor have made her happy?”
“I don’t know.” The words were so quiet, so thin, they may as well have been echoes. There was no force behind them, no…certainty.
“Only when that trust is broken will we be free.”
The voice from her dream echoed back to her and Maribel clenched her hand into a fist around the rock she still held. The sharp edges cut into her palm, the pain helping her to think clearly, to chase away the guilt long enough to consider, really consider, what the serpent was asking. “I—”
“Maribel!”
Maribel dropped the rock and spun around, heart pounding as though she’d been caught committing some sort of crime. “Corrine?”
She scrambled to her feet, sliding on the stones wet from the splashing water and took off into the forest. The figure coming through the woods was dressed in a stunning green dress, silk, satin, and fine beads embroidered into the bodice. There was only one person who would wear such garments on a trek through the woods. As she looked on, the figure swayed and collapsed.
“Corrine? Corrine!” Maribel shrieked and ran faster. She fell to her knees, taking her sister’s limp hand in hers.
Her sister blinked, her head lolling from side to side where she lay on the ground. “Maribel. Maribel, I found you. I’m going to take you home…”
Her sister’s eyes rolled up into her head, her eyelids falling closed. Maribel’s heart leapt into her throat. She patted Corrine’s cheeks, trying to force some color into the pale skin, to get her blood flowing. “Corrine, wake up. Corrine!”
Her chest tightened as her sister remained unresponsive, the pulse at her neck thready. Corrine’s head lolled to the side as she laid her gently on the forest floor and stumbled to her feet. She raced back to the lake and half-fell onto the bank, shoving the end of her skirt into the water. When the material was thoroughly soaked, she lurched back to her feet and rushed to her sister. Water trickled down Corrine’s face as Maribel pressed the soaked edge of her skirt to her sister’s forehead. Her sister moaned and stirred. Maribel nearly fainted with relief as Corrine’s brown eyes blinked open.
“Maribel. Maribel, I found you. I’ll… I’ll take you…home.”
“Corrine, what on earth are you doing out here?” Maribel demanded, her voice faint with relief as Corrine’s eyes remained open. She raised her head and scanned the forest, searching for some sign of an escort. “Are you alone?”
Corrine winced. “Yes. I had to…get away.” She let out a deep breath and eased back against the ground, letting Maribel stroke her forehead. “Maribel, it’s awful. There are so many strangers crawling all over the place now. Did you know that Father’s building a new farmhouse? He never had any intention of moving back home.”
Maribel didn’t say anything to that. Part of her hoped that the reason her father was staying where he was had something to do with wanting to stay close to her. But even if that wasn’t the case, she knew that she and her father shared something in common—they had both come to like living out here.
Her father had never said anything, but Maribel had seen a marked difference in him. The stress of the import business—pirates, unpredictable weather, cutthroat merchants—had melted away from him as he’d worked the fields, haggled good-naturedly with friendly villagers who enjoyed bartering as a favorite means of social interaction. He and Maribel had shared that secret, along with the guilt of knowing that they were getting happier and happier while Corrine became more and more miserable.
Corrine grabbed her hand suddenly and Maribel jumped.
“Maribel, I want you to know I never forgot about you,” Corrine said seriously, locking her eyes on Maribel’s face. “Every day I tried to think of some way to save you, some way to force that…monster, to let you go.”
“He’s not a monster.”
Corrine jerked her hand back, a small tic twitching at her temple. “What do you mean he’s not a monster?”
Maribel blinked. “I… I just mean, he’s not all bad. He’s got a temper, yes, and he…” She trailed off, the world fading a bit around the edges as her mind wandered back to Daman. He’s not a monster.
“He what?” Corrine demanded.
“I think he’s just been alone for a long time. He’s going through a lot, and he doesn’t have enough faith in himself—or others. But he’s trying to change.”
Corrine stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. Maribel understood how she felt. She herself was having a rather hard time understanding her feelings at the moment. She’d been so angry a few minutes ago, so ready to leave and say good riddance to Daman and his mood swings. But somehow, hearing Corrine call him a monster… Oh, what is wrong with me?
She gave Corrine a reassuring smile. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me here.”
“Maribel, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I cannot leave you here.” She grasped both of Maribel’s hands in hers. “I’ve been talking to Mother Briar. The stories she’s told me… He’s done such horrible things.”
“No, no, Corrine,” Maribel hushed her. “He’s not horrible, he’s…very moody. But he’s also kind and—”
“He kidnaps changelings!”
Maribel jerked back, startled as Corrine surged forward to grab Maribel’s shoulder. She shook her so hard Maribel’s teeth rattled, sending a dull pain through her jaw. “Corrine,” she sputtered.
“I know it’s true. He… Maribel, he…” For a moment Corrine’s eyes glittered, her lower lip trembling. Then with a tiny sob, she burst into tears and collapsed against Maribel, burying her face in her shoulder. “Maribel, he kidnapped me.”
Maribel’s heart stopped, the entire world coming to a grinding, screeching halt. “What?”
“That day you had an accident in the field—you hit your head on the fence. Your blood was everywhere, even all over me. I helped Father get you cleaned up and into bed and I went back to my room. Bef
ore I could wash, he—” Another sob tore from her throat, punctuating her words. “He was suddenly there. He told me I had to come with him, that I didn’t belong with you and Father. He told me I was a changeling, and he was going to take me back to my real parents.”
Maribel shook her head, trying to process what her sister was saying. Her mouth had gone dry and she had a hard time swallowing. “But… But you’re…”
“Oh, Maribel, I’m so sorry. I never wanted to tell you, I never wanted you to think… You’re my sister, isn’t that all that matters? I love you.”
Maribel’s skin felt cold, clammy. “You were covered in my blood. He thought… He thought you were a changeling because…because I’m…?”
Corrine nodded, her face still buried in Maribel’s shoulder. “I never loved you any less,” she said fiercely.
“How did you get away?” Maribel’s head spun, making it difficult to concentrate. She groped for the end of her skirt, raising the still damp section to her own forehead to wipe away the sudden sweat there.
“I used a spell Mother Briar taught me,” Corrine sniffled, pulling away and wiping her eyes. “I was fighting him and he was trying to transform into a dragon. I tried to stop him, to hold him in human form.”
“You… You are the one who cursed him into the form he’s in now. You’re the reason he can’t go all the way back to one or the other.” Maribel leaned back, hand scrabbling at the ground for support. No, it couldn’t be true…
Corrine grabbed her hand, her grip so tight it was painful. “I didn’t mean to! I was trying to get away.”
An ache pulsed to life in Maribel’s temples, throbbing with every laborious beat of her heart. “No. No, that can’t be right. Even if he thought you were a changeling, he wouldn’t have forced you to leave Father and me. He wouldn’t have taken you from your home if you didn’t want to go. He’s not like that.”
“Then why did he take you? Why did he make you come stay with him when you didn’t want to be here?”
Maribel opened her mouth to respond then closed it. She couldn’t argue that Daman had forced her to come here, that he would have forced their father to stay if she hadn’t. But how could she explain his true intentions to her sister without frightening her? Maribel carefully avoided looking back at the manor, suddenly very nervous about the possibility that Daman may know Corrine was here.
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