by Ruth Vincent
They looked happy.
They had no idea how long they’d been asleep.
They all stopped talking and froze when the Queen entered the room. Clearly they remembered her, and the memories weren’t good. Some started to cry; others cowered, or tried to climb back into their shattered cocoons to fake being asleep.
I had to say something to calm their fear.
“Hello,” I called out, and I felt their eyes shift from the Queen to me. “We’ve come to get you out of here. You’re free.”
Small faces looked back and forth between the Queen and me. I could tell they weren’t sure. I went on, trying to reassure them, but I didn’t know what to say.
“You have a choice. If you want to go home, back to the human world, we’ll try to arrange that. But . . .” My voice cracked. How could I possibly tell them that for some of them everyone they’d ever loved or even known was dead?
“Some of you have been asleep a very long time. Things may have changed a lot since you’ve been gone.”
The little ones stared at me blankly, but I saw fear in the older children’s eyes, and something darker too: the awakening of hate for the fairies who’d kept them here.
I continued. “If you’d like to stay here, though, you can live in freedom in the Vale. No one will ever take you captive again. We have homes for you. You can live together. Ursaline . . . ” As if on cue at the sound of her name, my old bear nurse came lumbering through from another entrance at the far side of the room.
At first some of the kids screamed and ran at the sight of the enormous bear. I cried out over the din of their voices that she was an Animalia, that she was friendly, but I don’t think they heard me.
But then some of the youngest children, barely bigger than babies, too young to understand yet of what they should be afraid, crawled or toddled over with drooling smiles and began to pet and grab at Ursaline’s long tendrils of fur. She responded by licking their downy heads and the little ones giggled.
“See?” I said. “She’s safe. She’s not an ordinary bear. Once you stay with her awhile, you’ll learn to understand her speech.” I did. “She’ll take care of you.”
The older ones began walking over, tentative, curious, extending their hands to stroke Ursaline’s soft fur and receive a lick themselves.
“Ursaline will take you to the House Trees we’ve set up,” said the Queen.
“You can stay there until you’ve figured out what you want to do. Or you can stay there forever,” I added.
I watched them beginning to follow Ursaline like some enormous, bear pied piper, and I felt a pinch in my heart. Right now it was all new; they were still groggy from the sleep spell and still in shock. Perhaps some of them thought they were still dreaming. But one day, and soon, it would hit them: the reality that twenty, forty, sixty, a hundred, two hundred years had passed. And they would hate us.
“There’s one more, Mab,” said the Queen, and I turned to look where she was pointing.
Two goblin guards were leading my Shadow forward. She blinked and shaded her eyes from the light.
I turned my face away from her quickly, afraid she would recognize me, afraid she would attack me again, and then instantly felt cowardly for trying to hide from her.
But she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring at Ursaline, who was now carrying about a dozen laughing children on her back. I could almost see her thoughts in her pose, head tilted forward, body angled back, afraid but curious. The Queen gave a signal to the goblin guards and they loosened their hold on her. My Shadow stepped forward a few paces, towards Ursaline and the kids, her hands stretched out tentatively ahead of herself to guide her. Ursaline turned at her approach and sauntered over to her. Instantly, my Shadow recoiled in fear, but Ursaline lowered her head, her posture gentle, submissive. She licked the edge of my Shadow’s hand and then I saw something I’d never seen before.
My Shadow smiled.
Hesitantly, she patted the old bear’s fur.
Ursaline licked her cheek, and a strange sound came out of my Shadow.
Perhaps it was a laugh from someone who’d forgotten how.
Ursaline had a magical effect on people, I thought as I watched her. She had communicated something that words couldn’t. Though one day my Shadow might learn to understand her speech as well.
Shadow was following after the other freed captives, who were making their way to the low door. Ursaline nudged them through with her nose, one by one. When it came to my Shadow’s turn, she looked back over her shoulder, and her eyes connected with mine. She stared at me, a long, enigmatic look. And then she followed after Ursaline and disappeared into the passage.
I let out a long sigh.
Things were still a long, long way from being alright with my Shadow and these other children. But I looked at the empty cocoons lying like cast-off clothes along the rock wall, and I knew deep in my bones that we couldn’t have let them stay asleep just because we didn’t know how to handle them being awake.
“It’s the first step,” I said to my mother as we made our way back out of the cave.
“The first step in a long journey,” she replied, and I nodded.
“But it’s the first step towards doing the right thing.”
We didn’t say anything more as we climbed the stairs back up to the sun-filled towers. I think we were both too lost in thought.
“Would you like to be present when the boat takes Korvus away?” my mother asked me.
I thought about it for a moment, frowning.
I was about to say no. I didn’t want to see him again; I didn’t want to ever see him again. And yet, something in my heart whispered yes. The thought of watching him sail away, disappear as a speck over the horizon, sounded like a kind of closure. It probably wouldn’t give me closure; I was a long way from “over” what he’d done. But I liked the symbolism of the thing.
“I would,” I told my mother.
The sun was sinking when we made our way down to the shore, dancing like a thousand sparkling diamonds on the waves. It seemed too beautiful a day for what was about to happen, but there was something triumphant about it, as if Nature had come out in all her glory to show she couldn’t be stopped.
I took off my human shoes and wandered barefoot, like the Queen, over the hot sand down to where the waves lapped.
I could smell the tangy scent of the Great Elixir Sea, wild and peppery in the air.
The sea wasn’t made of the same kind of Elixir as the streams.
You couldn’t drink it. It was wild, uncontrollable magic. It could kill you as soon as quench you. The Fey had largely left it alone, since it couldn’t cure the drought. But there was no denying how beautiful it was. The waves were calm, and when a beam of sunlight touched the surface you could almost see down into the alien world of the merfolk.
I stood silently, my mother by my side, listening to the song of the surf.
Several of the Queen’s guards were standing on the beach, talking amongst themselves and milling around the sides of the boat that was to take Korvus away. But there was another figure there too, I noticed, a head taller than the rest of the group, and his deep voice barked over their high-pitched Faerie accents. When he turned towards us, I recognized him at once: it was the Alpha werewolf I’d met at Obadiah’s club.
He strode towards us across the beach, his heavy boots sinking into the sand. There was a snarly expression of annoyance on his face as he walked awkwardly across the dunes; clearly the too bright, too hot, too beachy landscape made him ill at ease, used to as he was of the cool dim leafy forest. But it was merely annoyance, not anger; he looked significantly happier to see me than the last time we’d met.
As he approached my mother and me, he gave a curt nod. The Queen did the same. I noticed her expression was not warm, but it wasn’t hostile either. They weren’t friends, but they’d always been allies.
“I came to apologize,” said the Alpha with great difficultly. “I know it wasn’t you beh
ind the theft of our Elixir. It was the goblin. I’m glad to hear he’s being punished for his crimes. If it were me, I’d have killed him. Sets an example for the rest of the pack, you know.”
“I know,” I replied. “Believe me, I wanted to.”
“When the Queen’s guards raided Korvus Korax’s laboratory, they found casks of Elixir he’d stolen from our streams. I must say, to your mother’s credit, she honored our treaty and gave them back to us, replacing what was stolen. Blake has returned to his human form.”
“Glad to hear it,” I said.
“Think things are pretty much back to normal for us now. But the young pup does feel awfully guilty about what he did when he was stuck as a werewolf, how he tore up Obadiah’s store. He promises he’ll work for free until Obadiah’s premises are returned to their original state.”
“I’m sure Obadiah will appreciate that.”
It would be a long, slow slog, but at least he’d have help.
“Well, I’d best get going. Just wanted to say that to you both. I know you fairy folks probably don’t have the best opinion of my kind, but we don’t believe in laying blame unjustly.”
“Thank you. And as for opinions, I think you guys are alright.” I smiled.
He nodded at us both again and departed, slowly moving across the dunes and back into the forest.
The Queen and I stood on the beach in silence until the ship was readied, and another set of guards came, escorting Korvus. They were the ones with the chameleon cloaks, now blending with the sand. Only their bare faces and hands prevented them from disappearing entirely. Korvus didn’t appear to be fighting them as they moved him along. He didn’t look in our direction, just stared out at the sea. The Queen approached the group and gestured for one of the guards to come speak with her privately. The two conversed in hushed tones for what seemed like a long time; likely they were working out all the details of how they would guard Korvus. I waited, shifting from foot to foot in the sand, but at last my mother came away, seeming satisfied.
“We’re ready,” she said, grim determination in her eyes.
I studied Korvus, bound hand and foot between the two sets of guards. The expression on his face as he squinted in the bright sun was unreadable. I wasn’t sure if he was feeling anything at all as he gazed blankly out at the sea.
While the other guards loaded Korvus onto the boat, one of the guards approached me and explained what would happen. Korvus wasn’t allowed to bring any equipment from his laboratory, or any other possessions. He was a goblin; he couldn’t do magic from his own innate abilities like us. He needed all sorts of ingredients for his wizardry, and the guards outlined their plans to make sure he could never acquire what he needed, lest he transform himself into one of them and use that as the means to escape. The guards seemed like intelligent sorts, I thought as I listened to their carefully constructed plans. Hopefully they were up to the challenge of containing someone as crafty as Korvus. It was the risk we would have to take, if we were going to keep him in prison instead of executing him.
“Set sail,” I called to the guards. And they did.
I watched his boat get smaller and smaller in the distance, until it was just a tiny speck in the vastness of the sea, and then it disappeared. I walked back to my mother, and squeezed her hand.
“I hope I have no reason to ever have any dealings with him again,” I said to my mother as we watched his boat vanish into the distance.
“You won’t.”
“You’re not going to have your guards kill him when they get to the island, are you?”
“No, I promised you I wouldn’t. And I keep my promises.” She linked her arm in mine and we began to walk, the sound of the ocean singing in our ears. “You’re going to be a good ruler, Mab. You’ll do better than I ever did. You gave us the cure for the drought. Everyone in the Vale will love you; you became the answer to their most fervent prayers. You will start your reign with an enormous amount of goodwill.”
I nodded, but my mind was elsewhere. I was still thinking about Korvus. I couldn’t get him out of my mind, no more than I could the memory of what had happened between us out of my body.
We continued to walk along the shore. My mother was very quiet. She was looking past me, staring out at the sea. I noticed a tear glistening in the corner of her eye.
“Mom?” I asked.
She quickly wiped her eyes, and then smiled.
“I’m fine,” she said gently. “It’s just . . . this is the first time I’ve been down to the shore since . . .” She took a deep breath, as though steeling herself. “You asked me about your father. There is one thing I can tell you.”
I waited, nervous about what she might be about to say.
“He drowned,” she said quietly. “Here in the Great Elixir Sea. We can be killed by too much Elixir, just like we can die from not enough.” She let out a long, weary sigh. “I wish I could tell you he died doing something noble and heroic, but in truth it was just a meaningless accident. He was noble and heroic in life, and that’s what matters. We don’t get to choose how we die. But the reason I’m telling you all this is I know you want closure.”
My heart clenched in my throat; it was like she was reading my mind.
I was about to speak, but my mother went on.
“I understand that. I had them trawling this sea, day after day, week after week, year after year, trying to find him. But it’s too big. It can’t be done. His body was never found, and it probably never will be. Eventually I just had to accept I’d never get closure. But I’ve found peace within my heart, and you will too. Life doesn’t give you closure. You make closure for yourself.”
She opened her arms and I hugged her tight. For the first time, I felt like I was hugging my mom, my real mom. What she’d said comforted me. And she only thought she was talking about my father.
We had reached the Quartz Spires of the palace. I shaded my eyes, looking up at them, a thousand rainbows gleaming in the sun.
“Obadiah’s still here in the palace, isn’t he?” I asked.
The Queen nodded. “He’s been waiting for you. He would have come with us to send Korvus off, if you’d have asked for him.”
I cast my eyes down to the stones. “You’ve been talking to Obadiah?”
“I have. We had quite a long talk actually, while you were resting.”
“Last time you two talked, you tried to kill him,” I said, eying her.
The Queen looked ashamed. “I did. But I’m sorry. I won’t ever try to hurt him again. I gave you my word. And as much as I was loath to admit it, I see he’s good for you.”
I smiled at her. “I’m glad you see that now.”
I hugged her goodbye, and then headed down to the wing of guest rooms where she told me he was staying, my heartbeat quickening with every step.
Chapter 17
Obadiah turned the moment I opened the door handle, and our eyes met.
My breath caught in my throat, and I lowered my eyes, unable to meet his gaze.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said. “Ever since you helped me escape Korvus. I didn’t want to intrude while you were with the Queen; I figured you and your mother needed some time alone. And I wasn’t going to force you to see me. But I’d been praying you’d come back, that I could just see you—talk to you.”
Picking up the last shreds of my courage, I dared to look up into his eyes. Did he know? Did he know what had happened between Korvus and me? Had he heard that conversation? I had to say something, but I couldn’t. I felt paralyzed.
“I should go back home to New York,” I heard my own voice say, but it didn’t sound like me. The voice was hollow, numb. “The fairies will recover. They have the cure for the Elixir Thirst. My mother is going to free the kids. It’s all good now. I’m done here. I’m going home.”
“Okay, should we leave now or do you want to wait awhile?”
I faced him, stricken. He’d said “we.” He was still expecting that everywhere we tra
veled, we went together, like a couple. He still wanted to be with me. I couldn’t bear that.
“I meant I should go back to New York. You can come too, if you want. But”—the lump in my throat had grown so big I could barely swallow—“I can’t see you anymore.”
I didn’t look at him, but I heard his sharp intake of breath. I felt his gaze on me, the weight of it.
“Mab, if this is about what happened with Korvus . . .”
Suddenly, I was sobbing. I couldn’t stop myself anymore.
Obadiah put his hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. I couldn’t bear the tenderness of his touch.
I realized I had to speak. I couldn’t avoid him forever. I couldn’t avoid him at all. I had to tell him.
The moment I gave myself permission, the words poured out in a torrent.
“I’m so sorry,” I gasped. “I had no idea. I thought it was you. He looked just like you. His voice sounded like you. His skin smelled like you.” I was sobbing, my voice breaking as the words tumbled out. “I should have known it was a spell, but it was so convincing. Obadiah, I . . . ” I raised my eyes to his, my body trembling and shaking with the guilt that seemed as if any moment it would crush me. “I thought he was you, so I slept with . . .”
I couldn’t bear to meet his gaze anymore, so I buried my head in my hands.
“I know,” he whispered.
I looked up.
He was gazing at me. His eyes were sad, but they weren’t angry.
“I heard your whole conversation, when he had us both tied up in his laboratory.”
“You heard all that?” I gasped.
I should have known; if I had heard him screaming, he could hear us. Our voices had been softer, but he had his mother’s selkie hearing.
“You heard everything?”
There was nothing I could hide now. He knew everything Korvus had done. I felt like I was going to be sick. I lowered my face to my hands again.
“I heard everything. It just about killed me, Mab.”
“I’m so sorry.” For the first time, I reached out; my hand connected with his and I squeezed it so tight I thought my fingers would go numb.