Spell It Out for Me

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Spell It Out for Me Page 32

by Sarina Dorie


  “Your sister. Quenylda.”

  “Indeed.”

  He kissed my fingers. “I’m obligated to stay with her because Fae don’t believe in divorce. To my people, any marriage between myself and a human is considered more like a mistress than a wife. They won’t recognize it. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t valid in my eyes. I should warn you, though. If you marry me, you won’t acquire a title. Should we have children, they won’t inherit a title either.”

  “I don’t care about that.” I didn’t even want children. Not in this horrible world where babies could be drained or snatched for the amusement of Fae courts.

  “I didn’t think you would, but I wanted to make sure I didn’t keep that hidden,” Elric said.

  I scooted closer and hugged him. He was so thoughtful and considerate. So why did I feel so empty inside?

  “If we should have children, they will be seen as bastards. Fae don’t look favorably upon Witchkin marriages, and they will treat them as less.”

  “The Fae are a bunch of arrogant, narrowminded snobs.”

  “Indeed. And hypocritical, pedantic sycophants as well.” He nodded sympathetically, but a smile twitched at his lips as if he was trying hard not to smile.

  “I don’t mean you.”

  He bumped me with his elbow. “Of course not. I’m superior in every way.”

  I thought back to the Fae Fertility Paradox. “Don’t they get it? You’re one of the few Fae who have sired children since the Industrial Revolution. If they want children, they’re going to have to leave their high-minded traditions behind and follow in your path.”

  “It isn’t so simple. What you need to understand is I am one of the few who chose to marry Witchkin. Unlike those who seduce Witchkin for amusement and then leave them, not knowing or caring to discover the results of their liaisons, I don’t behave with such boorishness. Witchkin continue to be born, some without fathers. Presumably some of those fathers are Fae.”

  I thought of Derrick and how he had never met his father. His mother had probably been Witchkin but not known it. Small talents like psychometry and clairvoyance ran in the family. His father had been mysterious, and his grandparents hadn’t known who he was. He could have been Fae or Witchkin.

  I didn’t know my father either. There was talk of a demon my mother had released under the school, but more likely that was to scare people off from her research.

  “Fae rarely record their half-breed offspring in books of peerage. Our Witchkin offspring go undetected,” Elric said.

  I smoothed out the wrinkles of my chemise. “But you can’t deny both Witchkin and Fae birthrates are in decline. That’s why schools have been closing. Supply and demand. There aren’t enough students to fill schools.” I thought of all the drastic measures Jeb had gone through to get funding—namely consorting with his enemies. He’d even been willing to risk my soul.

  “Indeed. Fewer Fae and those with Fae blood are able to propagate their lineage. All schools are in decline. Except for Womby’s. You get all the bastard children of Fae, as well as those of Witchkin families who can’t afford the better schools. It’s why my son felt like it was important to work there. He understood the importance of education in the Unseen Realm. It wasn’t just to prevent children from being snatched, but also to educate. He understood how those with Red affinities like himself had a greater chance for siring children. He had hoped to prove his value to the Fae Courts, to educate them so that all Fae wouldn’t become extinct. He would have united Fae and Witchkin alike against our common enemy of science. That way we wouldn’t fade away and die. We wouldn’t lose a world of magic and wonder.”

  “Wow,” I said. He thought science was his true enemy. Maybe it was.

  Surely my biological mother had known this as well. It was what she had strived to solve. Dox Woodruff and Alouette Loraline had taught at the school at the same time. They must have recognized they were both Red affinities. Had they worked together on the Fae Fertility Paradox? Or separately? Thatch was the one who had exposed Dox for being a prince of the Silver Court. There had to be more to this story.

  “Such a topic is a deep, philosophical matter—a troubling tangent for so beautiful a day. I would rather we rejoice and celebrate our triumphs.” Elric patted my knee. “We are done with bargains and contracts. So long as you don’t ask for any more favors, I should think your soul will be safe.”

  “Safe,” I repeated. I should have been relieved. Happy. I laid my head on his shoulder.

  “No one will hurt you, Fae or Witchkin. You don’t have to worry about Felix Thatch. If you wish, you’ll never have to face him again.”

  I sat up with a start. “What do you mean?”

  “My father locked him up in the dungeon. We can keep him there forever if you’d like.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  The Dungeon Master’s Punishment

  “What do you mean your father locked him up?” I demanded. “Why? Thatch didn’t break any Fae laws.”

  “Not a law exactly, but he was unnecessarily rude and aggressive to a guest in my father’s house. Therefore, it’s within our right to punish him.”

  I stared at him incredulously. “Thatch was ‘rude’ to me because of what your father asked him to do. He had to prove. . . .” My words caught in my throat. I couldn’t say it. He had to prove he didn’t love me.

  “I thought you would be happy,” Elric said. “He used you. He tried to drain you. Why are you sticking up for him? Please don’t tell me it’s because you actually love him.”

  Didn’t he get it? If we couldn’t talk about our relationship or the fact that I truly loved him more than Thatch for fear of being overheard by servants or spies, I couldn’t explain anything else. I couldn’t tell him how I didn’t love Thatch without making it obvious last night’s events had been a sham to triumph over King Viridios and all those bargains and contracts.

  At least I thought it was all a sham.

  I cleared my throat. “It isn’t right for Fae sovereigns to make up rules to imprison Witchkin because we offend some high-ranking person’s—”

  “We wanted to protect you from him. That isn’t making up rules. It’s within our rights. It’s within my rights. You are my consort, and he attacked you. I get to decide his fate.”

  “Then you have the power to release him.”

  He crossed his arms. A knock came at the door.

  “Go away,” Elric called.

  He turned back to me. “You are intelligent and sensible about so many matters. Except when it comes to him. I’ve been more than patient and understanding enough when it comes to your friendship with this man, but I must put my foot down somewhere. I’m not going to allow you to keep running back to him and pretending he hasn’t hurt you.”

  “I wasn’t going to pretend.”

  “Really? You haven’t thought up some excuse for his behavior?”

  “He was trying to save me.”

  “Through any means possible, even if it involved hurting you emotionally and physically. And then draining you! I am not releasing him.”

  Desperation filled my voice. “You have to.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  “You’re just like the rest of them. You imprison Witchkin because you can.”

  He flinched back. “No. That isn’t why I imprisoned him. It’s to protect you.”

  The knock came again, louder this time. A woman’s voice came through the door. “Please, Your Highness, it’s the princess.”

  Elric left my side and jerked the door open.

  A maid curtsied, her eyes on the floor. “The princess requests your presence at breakfast.”

  “I told you to tell her I’m indisposed.”

  “I did, Your Grace, but she threw a vase at me. She told me if I didn’t convince you, she would beat me.” The maid sounded young. Her long brown hair fell into her face, obscuring her features from my view.

 
“Son of a succubus! That woman is a vile shrew,” he muttered.

  I slipped from the bed and padded over to where they stood at the door. The maid looked like a teenager. Only when she lifted her head and her hair shifted out of her face did I recognize her as one of our recent graduates from Womby’s.

  The young lady’s eyes went wide. “Miss Lawrence?”

  “Um. . . . Yes.”

  I’d never had the young lady as a student, but I recognized her as one who had walked the hallways at the school with Darla. She’d always avoided making eye contact with me. I suspected it was because she had been used by Julian, and she was ashamed about it. I couldn’t imagine why she was here.

  Elric retrieved a brocade jacket from the corner. “Clarissa, I’ll be back shortly. Tiffany, please see to Miss Lawrence’s needs while I’m away.” He looked to me. “Stay in my room until I return. I’ll take you home once I’ve seen Quenylda.”

  I was too surprised at seeing a Womby’s student to respond. She stared at me, her mouth hanging open.

  “What are you doing here?” Tiffany asked.

  I stammered, “I-I went to a party. I had to, um, fulfill a contract. Well, maybe get out of a contract is more accurate. I’m not sure what you would call it.”

  “You’re the one they were gossiping about in the kitchen last night!” She covered her mouth in horror. “Are you all right? They said a man attacked you and tried to drain you.”

  Telling a former student about the way Thatch had saved me was not on my list of things to do.

  “Sort of. It’s a long story.” I took the girl’s hands. “Why are you here? I thought the Fae only employed other Fae in their castles. Did you get snatched?”

  “Sort of.” Tears filled her eyes. “Principal Bumblebub set me up with an apprenticeship at Morty Relations since I lived in the Morty Realm and know a lot about that, and I have good people skills. Those were the qualifications. And I’m good with arithmancy. It seemed too good to be true that someone in the Witchkin government would select me to intern.

  “I knew right away there was something strange about Mr. Barrow—the man I was to train under. He didn’t look like a professional who worked for the government. His suit didn’t fit, and his hair was greasy and unkempt. But I kept thinking, I was lucky I got an internship. I could stay in this realm and keep working on developing my magic until I grew stronger. So what if my employer looked sleazy and kept eyeing me like a dirty old man? Darla and I had learned spells to protect ourselves from those wanting to bewitch us like that.”

  This lent credence to my theory that Julian Thistledown had used her.

  I tugged her into the room. “Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “He didn’t get a chance. He kept asking me personal questions, inappropriate things like if I was a virgin. He told me if I didn’t have sex with him, he’d sell me to the Fae. I wasn’t going to stand for him being a bully. I refused him—actually—I punched him in the nose. He was so mad he got rid of me that day before I could report him to anyone.

  “There’s slavers in the Unseen Realm—did you know that? I didn’t know that. Some of my classmates had already been picked up. John Thornsby and Willow Larktree. Do you know them?”

  I shook my head. More freshmen and juniors had been placed in my classes than upperclassman. I’d learned early on that not all our graduates survived in the Unseen Realm. I would have thought the principal and school guidance counselor at least would have ensured our graduates were being placed with scrupulous mentors. Or followed up to see how they fared. I would be giving them a piece of my mind later.

  “The slavers were nasty, just like the stories Miss Bloodmire tells. Only I never believed they were true. Some beastly creature that looked like it was made out of tar purchased John. That thing drained him to death right in front of us!” Her voice grew high and almost unintelligible as she cried.

  I hugged her and patted her back. “That sounds horrible.”

  “It was! There are so many other bad things I saw. I wish I had allowed myself to be drained of magic after graduation so I could have gone home and never have seen any of that. But I’m stuck in this realm now. I’ve eaten Fae food. I’ll never go home. They fed it to us so it would be more difficult for us to escape.”

  “Who fed it to you? The Silver Court?”

  “No, the slavers. I was lucky I was discovered by the Silver Court. Prince Elric himself was out with his guards when he disbanded the slavers. He bought Willow and me to work at his estate as indentured servants. And there was a little sasquatch boy named Mark he purchased too. He can’t return to his family in the forest in the Morty Realm because he doesn’t know where they are, and he’s too young for manual labor as his indentured service, so the master tasked Mistress Constance to care for him—though I think mostly he cares for her.” She sucked in a breath. “Do you know about Mistress Constance?”

  I nodded.

  Words flooded out of her nonstop. “She’s a bit senile, but she’s good to him, nicer than the princess. Willow has a plant affinity, so she helps with the gardens. My main affinity is water, so Master Elric thought it would be best for me to be a chambermaid because I could clean things well.”

  “You aren’t a slave, then?”

  “I don’t get paid exactly, but it won’t be that way forever.” She pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes. “The prince told me I’ll be free to go in six years if I choose. The housekeeper isn’t very nice to us maids, and she’s harder on the girls who are Witchkin, but the master is strict about what she’s allowed to do to us as punishment. She isn’t permitted to beat us. And he has rules about the punishment for the male servants and guards if they try to take advantage of us. The only one who beats us is the princess.” She lowered her voice. “She’s nasty. Sometimes she hits us for no reason at all. Just to entertain herself. In all, though, it could be much worse. I don’t work for one of the other princes of the Silver Court.”

  I wasn’t less angry at Elric for imprisoning Thatch, but her words had warmed my heart to the fact that he wasn’t a complete jerk. There was no denying Elric was a good person who did care.

  He truly wasn’t like the rest of the Fae. I regretted saying that to him earlier. It had been unfair.

  As much as I cared about Elric, it didn’t change what I had to do.

  “Do you know where the dungeon is?” I asked.

  “Yes, but . . . we can’t go there. It isn’t permitted.”

  “I have to rescue someone.”

  “You can’t. There’s a dangerous criminal down there. He’s said to be so treacherous he can outwit any Fae. He’s so powerful he can bewitch a Fae. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  I sighed in exasperation. “I assume the dangerous criminal is Mr. Thatch.”

  “Professor Thatch? From Womby’s? What’s he doing down there?”

  “Rescuing me, I guess. It’s complicated.” Just like my feelings for him. I resented that I had to rescue him after what he’d done to hurt me. “Can you help me free him?”

  She bit her lip. “Master Elric has been good to me. I don’t want to disobey him.”

  “Did you ever have Mr. Thatch as a teacher?” Maybe I could appeal to her loyalty to the school.

  “Yeah, two years in a row. He was horrible. Do you know how many detentions I had for incomplete work?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to risk His Highness’s or His Majesty’s wrath for some grouchy teacher who hated me.”

  “I’m sure he didn’t hate you. He was trying to help you with those detentions.”

  From her grimace, I could see that tactic wasn’t going to work.

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble with King Viridios or Prince Elric,” I said. “You don’t have to go there with me. I just need you to tell me how to go there myself. I’ll figure out how to help Mr. Thatch.”

  She bit her lip.

  It was risky, but I tried my trump ca
rd. “Do you know who killed Julian Thistledown and ensured that he would never magically coerce another girl into his bed again?”

  Her eyes went wide. “It’s true? It was you!” Wonder was replaced by gratitude on her face.

  I hated to exploit that, but quid pro quo ruled this realm. “If you feel any loyalty to me at all, I need you to show me by telling me how to rescue Mr. Thatch.”

  “Okay. I’ll do it.” She looked me up and down. “But you aren’t going anywhere dressed in undergarments.”

  I was impatient to find Thatch and get him out of the dungeon before Elric returned, but Tiffany insisted on doing her duty as Elric had commanded. She served as a lady’s maid, getting me washed, dressed in the clothes I’d come in, and fed with food Elric had specifically selected from what his Witchkin servants had purchased from the Morty Realm for me.

  Discreetly, I searched my clothes for the vial Thatch had given me. It wasn’t so much that I thought I needed it, but I didn’t want Elric to find it and ask me questions about it. He’d been curious enough when I’d tried to secretly shove it in my underwear in the carriage. I couldn’t find it anywhere.

  Only after I did all the things Tiffany had insisted did she tell me how to get to the dungeon.

  “If Elric comes back, don’t tell him where I’ve gone,” I said.

  Tiffany’s forehead creased with worry. “Miss Lawrence, how can you ask me to do that? He’s my master, and he’s good to me.”

  Elric had a way of inciting loyalty in his servants so different from Thatch’s Machiavellian approach.

  I used the servant hallway and stairs based on Tiffany’s explanations. Small spindly servants with limbs that looked like gnarled wood carried baskets of laundry, giving me dirty glances. I suspected they were brownies. A young man carrying a tray of tea eyed me suspiciously, though he didn’t say anything about my presence in the servant hallway.

 

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