“Startling.”
“And getting a lot of advice. Most of it bad.”
“Also not a surprise.”
“And I think I figured out a few things.”
She looked quizzical. “Such as?”
“Such as why you asked me if I love you.” Somehow, the word didn’t carry the terror that it once had.
“Oh.” She crossed her arms. “This should be good.”
I took a deep breath. “What are your plans for after graduation? My graduation, I mean.”
There was a long, strained pause.
“That,” she said finally, “depends.”
“You don’t want to stay here at Apollo’s, do you?”
“Would you?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think so.”
“My father worked behind that counter for almost twenty years,” Danny said. “I’ve been doing it since I was fifteen. I could spend the rest of my life here, doing the same damn thing.”
“But you don’t want to.”
“No.” Now she took a deep breath, and I was astonished to see the sparkle of tears in her eyes. “Have you ever felt a future trying to attach itself to you? Like a big silent shark of thing, getting ready to swallow you whole. And if you let it, everything will be smooth, you’ll just be guided along until you get shit out the other end as an old woman and wonder where the hell your life went.” Danny shook her head violently. “Fuck that. I’m not doing it.”
“I understand,” I said. “At least, I think I understand. So far. Can I ask you something that I genuinely don’t get, though?”
She nodded, expression once again guarded.
“Why me? I mean, you like me, or at least you used to, but what do you need me for? If you don’t want to stay at Apollo’s, why not just go?”
Danny set her jaw. “You haven’t figured that out?”
“Obviously not. But we both know I’m not that bright.”
She closed her eyes and rubbed them each in turn with her knuckle, then set her shoulders and looked at me square.
“Because I’m scared, all right? It’s as simple as that.”
“You?” I blinked. “You’re not scared of anything. You weren’t scared of the dragon.”
“The dragon wasn’t my problem.” She waved her arm vaguely at the coffee shop. “Sure, I could leave tomorrow. Maybe it turns out fine. Maybe I can’t find work and end up homeless on a corner giving hand jobs for crack. Maybe I get kidnapped and sold into slavery. But if it goes bad, I just know I’d be thinking, ‘Great job, Danny. You had a perfectly adequate life, and you threw it away because you felt a little bored. You deserve this.’” She swallowed. “That scares me. The dragon wasn’t my decision, I just had to deal with it. But fucking up my own life beyond repair . . .”
“So where do I come in?”
She closed her eyes. “I like you, Brian. I like you a lot. And we were lying there that night, and I thought . . . maybe this is it. This is my chance to get out of here without fucking everything up. Because if I like you this much, if I love you, and you love me, how bad could it be?”
“If I’d said, ‘Oh, yeah, I’ve got something ready—’”
“It doesn’t matter if you’ve got a job lined up or not. I just wanted to know what you were thinking, because—”
“—because if I wasn’t thinking about it, it means that I’m a colossal fuck-up.”
“No. It probably means you’re normal. But it means I shouldn’t hang my life up next to yours when you haven’t got yours figured out yet.” She opened her eyes, expression sharpening a little. “Also, I thought you might at least have considered whether you were moving away, and what effect that might have on our relationship.”
“I get it.”
She blew out a long breath and looked me over. “You know what?” she said, sounding a little surprised. “I really think you do.”
“And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You gave me an honest answer. It just wasn’t the one I wanted.”
“One more question.”
Danny sighed. “Go ahead.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me all this?”
“Try and imagine,” she said, “if I’d told you that I was considering quitting my job and going with you to who-knows-where to figure out a new life. How would you have reacted?”
I sighed. “I would have freaked out, wouldn’t I?”
“Probably. I figured breaking up with you would be easier for both of us in the long run.”
“Fair enough.”
Danny shook her head. “So we’ve got all that figured out, now that it no longer makes the tiniest bit of difference.”
“Actually,” I said, “I’m not sure that’s true.”
Danny paused, watching me closely. “What do you mean? Have you figured something out?”
“No. Well, nothing important. Not how to work the warp drive or anything. But Jason was talking about whether we were really meant to find our way home, and I was thinking about all of this, and . . . maybe this is what you wanted?”
“You think I caused all of this? Like I have subconscious magic powers and all this madness is a result of my lust for adventure?”
“No,” I said, “I hadn’t actually thought of that one. I doubt it’s so straightforward.”
“Pity,” Danny said. “Because that would be awesome. I would be okay with the world arranging itself to suit me.”
“I just meant . . . this is an opportunity, right? A chance for a life that’s at least different from anything we could have gotten back home. Maybe that’s what we’re meant to find here.”
“We?”
“Yeah.” My heart trip-hammered, sending blood thundering past my ears. “That’s the other thing I was thinking about.”
Danny just raised one eyebrow, like a tiny, tomboyish Mr. Spock.
“I love you,” I said, and managed not to stutter. “And whatever we end up doing, here or in any other universe, I would like to do it together. If you’ll have me.”
“You don’t get to say that,” Danny said. Her eyes were filling with tears again. “You don’t get a do over on this one.”
I watched her in silence. She set her jaw.
“And what if I fuck it up? What if I fuck everything up? Are you going to end up regretting this?”
I shook my head.
“You . . .”
Danny lowered her head and took a step toward me, then another. A third step, and she was pressed against me, my arms wrapping automatically around her shoulders. She was shaking, sobbing, and I could feel her tears soaking my shirt. I squeezed tight and didn’t let go.
Eventually, when the tears had run dry, she tipped her head back, and I bent down to kiss her. It went on for some time.
“I’m sorry,” she said, when she finally pulled away, “that I went into the sex closet with Evan.”
“You had every right to. And someone had to volunteer.”
“It was still a shitty thing to do.”
I kissed her again, and she sighed and pressed herself against me. As she did, I felt something spreading over us, a strange, tingling energy a little bit like static electricity.
“Do you feel—” she managed.
“Uh-huh.” I nuzzled her cheek. “I think the magic coffeemaker approves.”
We somehow managed to get the door to the kitchen open without ever quite losing touch with one another, stumbling toward the sex closet with arms intertwined.
“Gil!” Danny shouted. “Put a can of beans in the machine and pull the switch.”
“What?” Gil said. “Are you sure?”
“Trust me!”
I pulled the door to the sex closet closed, and we were wrapped in darkness.
The magic was definitely back. It crawled over the hairs on my arm from where her hand rested, and crackled over my fingers when I put my hand on her hip. When we kissed, tiny sparks snapped and popped, and I felt my eyeb
rows frizzle. Her hands were busy, yanking my shirt loose and pushing it up to my shoulders. I broke away from her to pull it off, and she fumbled the buttons on her flannel free, leaving it hanging open and loose. We came back together like a pair of magnets, too hard and too fast, and our feet got tangled up.
I half fell, half sat against the bags of coffee, and she settled into my lap, the top of her head resting against my chin. I pressed my face into her hair; she smelled of coffee and sweat and dead mosquitoes, but it didn’t make any difference. She twisted her head, and I bent down to kiss her again, while my hands slid up the smooth skin of her stomach and over her slender breasts, rolling my thumbs across her nipples. We stayed like that for a long time, barely moving, her lips hot against mine, my hands sliding up and down as her hips moved, gently, rubbing herself up and down the length of me.
Her hands slid up the sides of my leg, then around to her waist, and I heard the pop as she undid the button on her jeans. Then her fingers slipped over mine, guiding my hand down, past her navel, pressing under the elastic of her panties. I curled my fingers in the soft thatch of her pubic hair, slipping bit by bit between her legs. When I touched her, warm and wet, she went as stiff as if she’d been struck by lightning. She moved her hips, and I pressed my hand against her. Danny broke off the kiss and leaned her head against my shoulder, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, grinding herself against my fingers as I worked them on her sex.
We stayed like that a long time too, just the slightest swaying motion, our hips moving in time. She pressed herself harder against me, legs tangling and straining against mine, her back arching like a bow. Her breath came in gasps, faster and faster, until she turned her head and pressed her mouth against my neck, smothering an animal sound from deep in her throat. Her teeth just barely nipped my skin.
Then, still shuddering, she rolled off me and onto the coffee bags, her hands fumbling weakly at the front of my pants. I pulled them down, harder than I’d ever been, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, her hands interlocked behind my shoulders. When I entered her, Danny—Danny, who never made noise during sex, not even a moan—whimpered my name into my ear, and I replied in kind.
It was the best sex we’d ever had, bar none. Breaking all previous records. New high score. I felt as though I should be entering my initials somewhere.
“Holy shit,” Danny said, all her limbs still wrapped tight around me.
“Yeah,” was the best I could manage.
“Did I bite you?”
“Just a little.”
“Danny?” It was Gil’s voice, muffled by the door. “Danny, get out here.”
“Shit,” Danny said. “Now what?”
“We’d better go see.”
There was a certain amount of confusion as we disengaged and sorted out our various bits and pieces in the dark. When we were decent, I opened the door and found Gil in the kitchen, beckoning urgently.
“Come on!” Gil said. “There’s a . . . a guy.”
“A person?” Danny ducked back into the storeroom and picked up the magic sword, then marched out through the swinging doors with me at her heels.
The others were all spread out around the edges of the shop. In the center of the room was an old man in a long white robe, with pure, snowy hair and a beard you could lose a mouse in. He carried a gnarled staff, wore a sword at his belt, and was a dead ringer for Ian McKellen. When he saw Danny, he dropped creakily to one knee.
“Princess!” he said, in an Oxford accent. “So the prophecy is true. You’ve returned to us at last.”
“Princess?” Danny said. “You mean me?”
He nodded gravely. “In the time of the eighth sun, the Lord Most Vile will be denied his final victory by a princess from another world and her companions. She will have hair the color of rainbows and come bearing the Sword of Heroes. Her trials will be great, but her strength will be greater.” He let his head droop until he was looking at the floor. “I never thought to witness your coming.”
Danny looked at me and smiled. I smiled back.
“Okay,” she said, setting down the magic sword. “Hold that thought. Guys, can we have a huddle?”
Everyone packed back into the kitchen.
“What did you guys do?” Gil said.
“Oh,” I said, elbowing Evan in the ribs. “This and that.”
“This is where I’m supposed to be,” Danny said. “You were right, Jason. This is my stop, and I’m getting off.”
“I’m going with you,” I said.
“The old guy said companions,” Danny said. “So the door is open to anyone else who wants to come with.”
Gil and Jason looked at one another. Then Gil said, slowly, “What’s the alternative?”
“There’s one can of beans left,” I said. “I’m suddenly very certain that if you use it, it’ll take you home.”
Gil looked from me to the magic coffeemaker, and nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. Speaking only for myself, while it might be fun to hang out with a princess, I’m going to get back to real life.” He looked over at Jason again, and his voice cracked a little. “I understand if you want to stay though.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Jason said.
“Haven’t you always wanted to live in Fantasyland?” Gil said.
“It’s a nice place to visit,” Jason said. “But I wouldn’t want to stay. And I’ve got that internship at Google to think of.”
“That’s two staying,” Danny said. “I don’t want to hurry you, but let’s not keep the old guy waiting.”
“I’d like to come with you,” said Anna. “If you’ll have me.”
“Of course,” Danny said. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
She nodded. Something seemed to pass between the two of them that I wasn’t privy to, and Danny grinned.
“Lisa and I will be going home,” Evan said. “Obviously.”
“Obviously yourself,” Lisa said. “I’m going with Danny.”
“You can’t do that,” Evan said. “It—”
“Enough,” Danny said. “I’m the princess around here, and I say Lisa gets to decide for herself. Lisa, are you certain?”
Lisa took a deep breath and nodded. She handed her iPad to Evan, who accepted it numbly.
“Take this,” she said. “I doubt I’ll need it.”
“That does leave the question of how we get back,” Gil said. “Since Jason and I have already gone.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” Danny said. “Just squeeze all three of you into the closet.”
“Hrm,” Jason said. “We never tried three-element solutions. That would open the space up quite a bit.”
“Wait a minute,” said Evan. “I’m not—”
“Is that really something to quibble over at this point?” I said.
Gil put his arm around Evan’s shoulders. “Come on,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
“Right,” Danny said. “Princess crew, fall in!”
She led the three of us back out into the front room, where the old man had gotten to his feet. Danny picked up the magic sword and spun it through the air with a flourish and a crackle of power. Her blue-and-purple hair stuck up in unkempt spikes, her skin was grimed with sweat, her clothes sticky with mosquito ichor. Her green eyes were sparkling and brilliant. I thought she must be the most beautiful girl in all the worlds.
“Okay, Dumbledore,” she said. “Let’s get to work.”
Sarah Beth Durst
* * *
“The Hedgewitch” is about a character you first meet in The Queen of Blood—the first book in my new epic fantasy series, The Queens of Renthia—and I wrote this story shortly after finishing revisions on book two.
I wrote it because I couldn’t say goodbye.
When I finish writing a book, I know I’m supposed to celebrate—break out the champagne, release the flying monkeys, and collapse in a relieved yet pleased heap—but after living so long in an imagined world, I’m always sad when I wrestle t
hat final bit of punctuation into place. It’s such an immersive thing, living inside a story, falling in love with fictional people, that it’s hard to leave.
So even though I’ll be able to return to Renthia for the next book, this story was a chance to sneak back into the forests of Aratay early and see again the towering trees and the light that filters through the canopy. . . . It was also a way to see what made one of my favorite characters tick.
I always want to know the why of people. Why are you the way you are? I wish it weren’t considered rude to walk up to strangers and say, “Tell me your story. What makes you you?” Luckily, fictional people can’t object to your manners when you do that.
And so, here is Hanna’s story, set before the events of The Queen of Blood, in the beautiful and dangerous world of Renthia . . .
Sarah Beth Durst
The Hedgewitch
Sarah Beth Durst
“Remember, Hanna, the world wants to kill you,” Daddy had liked to say, when she was a child. “It’s not personal. The world simply hates that you exist.” Now that she was older, Hanna knew that instilling that kind of fear in a small child qualified as terrible parenting. But that didn’t mean Daddy was wrong. Especially given the way he’d died.
She huddled beneath the window. The lace curtains, stained yellow, fluttered in the breeze, and she knew she had to shut the window before they came in. Stupid, Hanna told herself. She should have forced herself out of the house and into town to buy fresh charms weeks ago, but she’d put it off day after day, always with an excuse: the laundry had to be washed, the floor had to be swept, a sock darned, or a leak fixed, and now the charms that repelled the spirits had crumbled into dusty lumps of herbs.
Stand up, she ordered herself.
Hanna shot to her feet, slammed the window shut, and backed up until she thumped against a rocking chair. It creaked as it rocked, loud as a shriek, and she froze. She knew better than to scream. She hadn’t screamed since the day earth spirits tore apart their next door neighbor, while her mother made her watch, because it was better to know what they were capable of.
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