by Mary Dublin
After a final glance at the sleeping prince, Esmae stepped down from her book to turn another page. She let out a puff of air, irritated by the tedious task as she began lifted the page.
How demeaning—a fae princess losing a battle with a book.
Squaring her shoulders and setting her jaw, Esmae tapped into the small glimmer of magic that remained at her core. She drew in a deep breath and pushed the page with all her might, leaving her hands stretched up as it left her fingers. A small gust of air manifested itself long enough to propel the page to the other side. Esmae dropped her arms and swayed dizzily, shivering from the cold. A simple spell like that wouldn't have winded even a fae child.
She climbed back onto the book to pore over the next entry, but by the time she reached the middle of the page, the letters blurred and the words began to lose meaning. Curses and madness enchantments and torture methods… Nothing on blood contracts. She yawned, even more lethargic when she found Daniel still fast asleep.
Naturally, Esmae hadn't slept well while since she began hiding in the walls. Finding a comfortable place to sleep had been impossible, as was warding off the cold. The candles lit upon the desk provided some warmth now, but not enough. The light glinted and danced off the goblet Daniel had brought her in, the wax steadily melting. She fiddled with her fingers, focusing on the prince.
Moving away from her book, she cautiously began to close the distance between her and Daniel—his warmth was inviting. A large enough part of the book jutted out from beneath his arms. It would certainly be softer than sleeping on the desk. But she would be rather close to him.
Just a short nap, she told herself. She would wake before he did and go back to her search, refreshed and ready to focus.
Never taking her eyes off him, Esmae climbed onto the pages of his book and curled up at the corner, tucking her legs close and covering them as best she could with her tattered red skirts.
His breathing was more prominent up close, but not too distracting to keep her heavy eyelids from falling shut. If anything, the noise was what lulled her into the first restful sleep she'd had in days.
When Esmae awoke, she was nowhere near the desk. Her face was pressed into crimson silk that smelled strongly of pinewood trees and a spicy soap she couldn't place. She lifted her head with a sharp intake of breath, desperate to get her bearings.
A pillow. She was lying on a giant's pillow on a giant's bed in a giant's bedroom. Movement caught her eye on the other side of the room. Her breath caught in her throat as the enormous blur came into focus, striding towards a silver-framed mirror.
Daniel's bedroom, she realized. Serious as it was, being stranded up there, she couldn't help but blush realizing it was his scent on the silk. It felt far too intimate.
Before she was ready, Daniel was on the move again, coming closer. It was only a matter of time before he glanced her way and spotted her watching, but she still wasn't prepared when those piercing eyes stopped and focused on her.
"Esmae—"
She greeted him with a cry of alarm as her grip faltered on the fine silk. She slid straight to the bottom with a painless landing on equally expensive sheets.
"Careful!" Daniel boomed. "Are you alright?"
"F-fine."
Despite her assurances, he lent a hand to scoop her back to the top. Esmae murmured her gratitude, sitting back on the pillow. So much for a graceful awakening. Truly, winning him over would be hopeless at this rate.
Ducking her head, she ran a hand through her hair, feeling knots dotting from scalp to tip. What I would give for my opal comb right about now, she thought wryly.
Daniel took a seat further down on the crumpled duvet. No matter his distance, his impact was felt up by the head of the bed. He was already fully dressed in fresh clothes, and was buttoning up his shirt at the wrists with a matter of haste.
"Where are you going?" she demanded.
Daniel looked over at her apologetically. "I've been tasked to meet with my father this morning to settle an accord. I'm afraid our research will have to be on hold until I get back."
"Oh. I see." She couldn't expect Daniel to drop everything in his life and help her. He was a prince, after all, and had more pressing matters to attend to than helping fix a fairy's mistake.
Esmae pursed her lips, cursing herself for not waking up earlier, as she meant to. Judging by the light pouring through the window, she had vastly slept past the span of a nap. She'd even slept through Daniel carrying her all the way to his bedroom. Hours of opportunity to research, lost.
With Daniel looking ready to depart as he gave both sleeves a final tug, Esmae sat up straighter and shifted to her knees, fighting not to slip again.
"You don't plan to leave me up here, do you?" Up here was barely waist-level for him, but she was too alarmed to be embarrassed about the glaring size difference. The memory of her attempt to reach the floor from the dining table last night left her even more adamant. "I can't stay stranded. What if someone comes in?"
Daniel scratched the back of his head. He scanned his room thoughtfully as though this had occurred to him once before.
"I haven't made up my mind yet," he admitted. "I suppose any sort of drawer is out of the question?"
Esmae wrinkled her nose in disdain, shaking her head wildly.
Daniel chuckled softly. "I thought as much. But you're right, leaving you out in the open is tempting fate too boldly, even for my liking."
He dragged a hand over his face. He still hadn't shaved. It suited him.
"Could you manage in the closet?" he asked.
She glanced about uncertainly. The closet would give her far more room than a drawer—and it was far less degrading. But Daniel's bedroom was unfamiliar, as far as her current size went. Naturally, she had avoided the room at all costs since the human transformation wore off. She had learned quickly that unfamiliar territory was dangerous territory.
"It would work," she said slowly, "if there is a way into the walls or under the floorboards from the inside. Otherwise, I'm as good as trapped in a drawer."
Daniel threw her a shocked look, which Esmae promptly ignored. It was the same way he'd looked at her when he'd discovered she'd been hungry last night, and she wanted no part in his pity. Eventually, he nodded.
"I'll need your help to check," he said.
A low creak eased through the mattress. When she looked up again, Daniel had his hand offered at her feet, palm up. It struck her that only a few days ago she had held his hand in her own. A perfect fit. It seemed a cruel twist of fate that she was now forced to clamber into that same hand and feel precisely how different they truly were.
She could tell he was doing his very best to be careful as he carried her, taking slow measured steps and keeping his eyes fixed on where he was going. Her embarrassment was momentarily forgotten when he pushed open the door to his closet. Far bigger than a drawer, it was almost like looking into another bedroom. There was a leather seat in the center of the squared space, with different looming wardrobes and lines of coats and cloaks on either side.
She knew hers had been much more impressive back in Evrosea, but everything humans made seemed immediately bigger and brighter.
"Set me down," she called up to him. "Please."
Daniel did as she asked. "You're not really planning to hide under the floor, are you?"
Esmae was sure to brace herself before turning around to face Daniel. After last night, she was not looking forward to seeing him from the floor. As it turned out, there was no preparing herself. Although his hand was retreating, she shuffled back a few steps, instincts tensing her legs to run if need be. He's helping me, he won't hurt me, he's helping me… She repeated the mantra a few times in her head, determined to remain calm.
"It's not fun, to say the least," she told him in the steadiest voice she could produce, jumping on the excuse to look away. She peered around for any imperfections in the walls and floor that could be used to her advantage. "But it's how I've survived
three days without being caught."
The closet was even more immense from the ground. The ends of his cloaks hung inches from the ground, thicker than curtains and several times as vast. Esmae narrowed her eyes at the edge of the wall behind the cloaks, spotting a slight gap in the floorboard that hid itself well in the shadows.
"There." She pointed, relieved that there was an escape route. Swallowing hard, she made herself turn back to Daniel. "I won't go in unless I need to. If I hear something, or if I'm feeling exposed. I just… I don't want to be trapped."
Daniel cocked his head to the side, looking every bit as apprehensive as she felt.
"For the record, I don't like this," he muttered. "Leaving you here."
"You won't be long, will you?" Esmae asked, hoping to set them both at ease.
"Not more than an hour or two. When I return, we'll get to the bottom of all this. I promise." After visible hesitation, he lowered his voice. "You'll still be here, won't you?"
The look on his face said it all. He half expected her to make a break for it the moment his back was turned.
The genuine worry in his eyes made it hard to write off his concern as him simply not wanting to lose his interesting little find. If that was the case, he would be taking more drastic measures to keep her in one place.
"You're asking if I'll try to escape?" she asked, a smile forming despite her dark words. The deepened frown that twitched on his face as he averted his eyes confirmed the answer. Esmae sighed. "I'll have you know had plenty of opportunity to run off after you fell asleep last night, but it didn't cross my mind even once. I will be here when you come back."
"I'll meet you here, then," he grunted, sounding pleased.
The floorboards groaned and Esmae shuffled back, averting her gaze as Daniel stood up. She wasn't sure she would ever be ready to look at him like that.
"Oh! I almost forgot…"
The prince swiftly stepped out of the room and returned in a moment with steps that shook the floor twice as much. Unconsciously, she had backed into the trailing curtain of his cloaks as he lowered a knee to the ground.
"I saved you some breakfast. I hope it's enough."
Esmae had to smile at the offering he set down on a folded handkerchief: honey-buttered bread and green grapes so small, they needed no cutting down for her to eat.
"It's lovely," she admitted.
Wearing a sweetly satisfied smile that made her heart jump, he stood again and left.
Chapter
Five
Brennan insisted they were lost. That was, until Esmae saw a light in the distance, peeking between the decaying vegetation. An enormous tree stood at the edge of a clearing, firelight flickering through the thick roots. The sounds of stirring night creatures had ceased. Not even the breeze dared to move the crooked branches.
Her heart raced as they approached. Even she couldn't deny that she sensed something terribly foul surrounding the area. Such was a witch's magic, but that didn't mean Esmae couldn't use it for her own benefit, if she was smart enough.
"You don't know that she'll help you," Brennan breathed. "For all you know, she could kill us and be done with it."
"She makes contracts." Esmae tried to look calmer than she felt. "There's no reason she won't accept this one."
"But a contract involves something being passed both ways." The weight of his gaze settled on her. Without even looking, she could feel the fresh worry brewing in his stormy grey eyes. His voice lowered to a horrified whisper. "What are you planning on giving her?"
Esmae pursed her lips and refused to look his way. "Nothing I'll be needing anymore."
She approached the tree, keeping a wary distance. Even so, her presence was detected.
"Don't be afraid to come inside, my dear."
Esmae's nerves stood on end. She flitted backwards and almost bumped into Brennan. The frail voice from under the tree fell silent. There were plenty of gaps between the roots that allowed a fairy to slip beneath, but Esmae stayed hovering where she was.
Brennan took her arm and moved in front of her. "Don't do this. Please."
Guilt tugged at her heart. She knew that making the deal would mean saying goodbye to her dearest friend and letting go of everything she knew, but it hadn't felt real until now. She squeezed his hands, feeling her throat close up.
"I'm sorry," she told him. "I've made it this far. I can't go back."
Before he could stop her, she turned in the air and dived for the tree roots. The space beneath the tree was far bigger than she expected. She came to a halt, drenched worse than ever with the unsettling sensation of foul magic.
"Esmae!" Brennan shouted behind her.
She turned in time to see to the roots shift and seal away any possibility of exit or entry. Her heart dropped to her feet. She was trapped. "Brennan! Brennan!" Lunging for the roots she tried to pry her hands between, but they wouldn't budge. "Brennan!"
"I'm here!" came his muffled voice. She could hear his hands scrabbling against the roots on the other side. "Are you alright? What's happening?"
Her breaths came in short gasps. "I don't know. It's, it's…" She peered around slowly, taking in the room. The embers of what was an enormous cook-fire shed just enough light. Giant, crudely-made shelves lined the walls, filled with ingredients that Esmae couldn't give a name to. The contents of some jars appeared to move. "Brennan," she called weakly.
The frail voice from before floated to her. "There's nothing to be frightened of." Something human-sized stirred in front of a work bench on the other side of the room. "You aren't trapped. But I only allow one at a time to come inside. A silly rule, I know."
Holding her hands against herself, Esmae trembled. The witch blended into her surroundings so well that she could have been part-tree herself, with her wrinkled skin and twiggy hair. Brennan's muffled calls from the outside continued relentlessly as the witch shuffled around the fire, her ancient appearance a strange mix of vulnerable and disquieting.
"What is it you desire, my dear?" the witch asked plainly, slowing her approach.
Esmae flew higher to be out of arm's reach. Even skin and bones, the woman was a giant to her. But if she was as powerful as the legends claimed, increasing the distance from her wouldn't make a difference.
"N-nothing," Esmae croaked. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean…"
"Come now." The witch grinned a crooked smile. "You long for something. For someone. I can feel it. I felt it from miles away. Tell me. What is it you desire?"
Esmae paced beneath the last line of text on the page, barely scanning over the final words before she hopped down to the desk. She had been meticulous at first about each entry she read, but after a few hours of a fruitless search that afternoon, she saw little point in focusing on anything that didn't mention any sort of contract.
She gripped the edge of the page, and no sooner than she lifted it over her head, it fluttered to the other side with a light breeze of magic. Her method of page turning had become routine by that afternoon.
She could sense Daniel staring when she turned her pages. He always seemed to hold his breath until she was back on top of the book, scanning the next round of black ink.
Blinking away her dizziness from the spell, Esmae mouthed the words at the top of the page absently. Within the first two lines, she stopped dead in her tracks and buried her face in her hands, groaning in agitation.
"I need another book," she announced, striding back to the desk. "This one has moved on to accounts of goblin encounters." She paused and dropped her gaze when she faced Daniel, realizing how snappish her tone was. "Please," she added.
Sighing out through his nose, the prince gently shut the book and set it on a stack of six others.
"We've been at it for a while," he pointed out. "And shit for answers. It might do you some good to give your eyes a rest."
Esmae balked. "I can't take a break now. Every minute I don't understand what happened is another minute I'm without my wings."
"
That's true," Daniel allowed. "But you're not alone. There's no need for you to be so miserable when you're already…"
He trailed off, flicking his eyes over her noticeably tiny form. Esmae could only imagine how small she looked to him. So insignificant.
Whatever he was thinking had inspired a new burst of energy. Eagerly, Daniel pushed the failed stack of books out of his way and laid a hand out next to her.
"Let me take you outside. To the gardens, maybe. It's quiet there, you won't be spotted."
Though she had become familiar with this silent invitation, Esmae promptly ignored the offered palm. "The gardens?"
A puzzled frown crossed his face. "You enjoyed it before, didn't you?"
"Yes," she agreed hesitantly. "But that's a long walk from here. I can't expect you to simply waltz down with a wingless fairy in your hand. And you've no more goblets here, either."
Daniel stammered, looking as close to embarrassment as she had ever seen him. It was a curious look on him. "W-well, I thought I might carry you in my pocket, actually."
She stiffened. "No."
"Is that no to the gardens, or just to the pocket?"
Esmae turned her back on him, massaging the bridge of her nose. "Both."
He folded his arms onto the desk, sending a sharp and sudden rattling through her shoes. His chair groaned ghoulishly as he leaned his weight forward.
"Come on, Esmae. Is it really such a terrible idea?" His voice rumbled right at her back, curious and imploring and intimidating all at once.
"Yes," she said simply.
She crossed her arms as if it would strengthen her resolve, chancing a peek over her shoulder. It was a mistake. The way his vibrant blue eyes bore into her, practically pleaded with her, almost made her cave. She faced the wall again and tilted her chin up.
"I have absolutely nothing against you taking a break from the books, Daniel—or even stopping completely, if you've had enough for the day. But I've got to keep going." Esmae's shoulders tensed when his unconvinced sigh pushed at her tangled hair.