by Elise Kova
He gasps. “I would never send my Hookie off!” Willow hops from his perch to grab Hook’s face with both hands. “Are you ready? We’re going to figure out those biscuits today. Yes we are. Yes we are.” His puppy talk brings a grin to my face and I depart knowing Hook is in good hands for the time being.
I’m recall the way back to Harrow’s chambers from memory. It’s slow going and I second-guess every step. But the leisurely pace gives me time to think about Eldas’s gesture in sending Poppy back, as well as Sevenna, Harrow, Eldas, and the unconventional family I’ve found myself not quite a part of.
I knock on Harrow’s door and pray Sevenna isn’t there. There’s no response, which I take as a good sign. It’s possible he’s still sleeping.
“Hello?” I say as I crack open the door.
“Is that my brother’s queen?” Harrow rasps.
“And your personal healer,” I respond and shut the door behind me. Someone has cleaned up the room. There’s much less for me to dance around as I make my way to his bed.
“Lucky me,” he says dryly.
“We both have the best luck, it seems,” I retort, just as dry.
“Fair. You had to end up married to my bastard of a brother.”
“He’s not half as much of a bastard as you.”
Harrow snorts and gives me a tired grin as I check on the status of the medicines I left behind. Both the powder and second dose of the potion are gone. And judging from the color that’s returned to Harrow’s cheeks, my concoctions worked.
“Careful, Luella, if you keep talking to me like that I may end up liking you.”
“The horror.”
He snorts. “I do find I prefer the company of people who treat me like shit.”
“And why is that?” I ask offhandedly, though I’m genuinely curious of the answer.
“Who knows? Maybe because I know I’m not worth anything better?” Harrow speaks as I finish the potion I started in the laboratory. A bundle of thyme turns to dust in my fingers as the liquid in the mug I’m holding shifts in color to a murky brown. Magic tingles on my palm. I have more control of my powers, I think, more confidence at the very least.
“That’s not true,” I say as I hand the mug to him. I sit on the edge of the bed. He eyes the movement, but doesn’t tell me to get out…which is progress I didn’t know I was after.
“What do you know?” he says, half hidden behind the mug.
“Everyone is worthy of decency. It’s why I’m helping you, after all.”
“And I bet you think you’re so much better than I am because of it.” He sneers. But the expression lacks the same kind of venom it once held. Or perhaps I’ve become immune to his particular brand of poison.
“I’m not better than anyone.” I sigh. “Though I wish I was better for myself.” If I was, I might have known I was the queen earlier. I might have been able to figure out a way to stop the cycle and fix the seasons of Midscape by now. I might have seen Eldas’s kindness. I might not be ignoring the stirrings in me toward him.
“Don’t we all?”
“So, what happened?” I divert the topic and my thoughts. “Tell me what actually happened to you this time.”
“So you can report to my brother?”
“It’ll stay between us. I swear it to you.” I look Harrow dead in the eyes.
“You swear it?” He arches his eyebrows.
“I take the relationship I have with my patients seriously, Harrow. You have my word I won’t tell Eldas—or anyone else—anything.”
“I guess I can believe that. You didn’t last time.” He sighs. “I…I may have involved myself with something I shouldn’t.”
“What?” I ask as he passes his mug between his palms.
“I can’t believe I’m telling a human this,” he mutters.
“I’m your healer; think of me that way and nothing more.”
“Right. Well…I don’t know how it happened. It wasn’t supposed to.”
“What happened?”
“A few weeks ago, I think I took glimmer for the first time. You have to believe me, it was completely by accident. I would’ve never sought out the stuff,” he says defensively.
“I don’t know what glimmer is.”
“Oh, right, human.” He rolls his eyes and I roll mine right back. “Glimmer is a…substance made by the fae. It heightens the connection with the Veil and, because of that, can improve elf magic. The sensation of power flowing through you is like none other. As if you’re halfway into the Beyond—halfway to the immortality we once had. Some people take it to perform incredible acts. Others…for pleasure.”
“Like you?”
“I told you, I didn’t intend to. Not originally…”
I frown. At the academy there were students who experimented with various substances, natural and created. Some I even heard of selling such things on the streets of Lanton. But I never gave the matter much attention, choosing instead to distance myself from the shadier acts as much as possible. My studies kept me from everything I couldn’t grow in dirt.
“We were at a party. People were having a good time. I think something was slipped into my drink. That must’ve been it. But after…I…I craved it. Just a little at a time. But the allure of the Veil is overwhelming.”
I resist frowning. I don’t want him to interpret my worry as judgment. Instead, I keep my face passive and listen.
“Plus, when I take it, I don’t think about anything. The world slips away into that hazy blue void.” Suddenly, anger flashes in his eyes. “Do you know what it’s like to hunt for your whole life for a place you can just exist?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly. He’s startled. “It’s something I’ve always pursued—a place of my own, built by my own hands—a corner of the world I can make my duty to look after. Not for the same reasons as you, Harrow…but I know that feeling.”
“Look at me, relating to a human. They’d never believe it in the salons and lounges if they heard,” Harrow muttered.
“These are strange times indeed.” I grin slightly. But my expression quickly becomes serious. “Harrow, you can’t—”
“Before you say it, I know. I know I can’t keep doing this. And I don’t want to. But that siren call…” He stares off at nothing, as though he can hear it even now—the pull of this substance known as glimmer. “They call it glimmer because elves get a ‘glimmer’ of their immortality back. Now that I’ve tasted it, I want more. I don’t know how to stop the cravings.”
“I’ll help you,” I declare. I don’t like the way he’s talking about being closer to the Veil. Then, I add, “That is, if you want me to.”
“What can you do?”
I wish I had access to the library at the academy and its wealth of knowledge on all topics. Or that I could write to one of my past teachers who dealt with students who became trapped by the substances they created. But I may have something just as good here.
“Plants are magnificent things. They can create something as powerful as glimmer and they can also create ways to stave off such cravings.” I look him in the eyes. “Would you like me to try and make something like that for you?”
Harrow finishes his mug and passes it to me. He looks away like an obstinate child. Yet, despite all his body language to the contrary, he says, “Fine, I suppose. It’s not like I can stop you. I’m drinking whatever you put in front of me, anyway.”
“All right.” I take the mug and set it down. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, don’t leave the castle.”
“But—”
“No, Harrow. If you must, bring Jalic, Sirro, and Aria here.” I cringe inwardly at the suggestion. They’re the last people I want here, but if it helps Harrow then it’s what must be done. The wellbeing of my patients comes first, always.
I remember Aria in the alleyway and something passing between the fae and her. I bite my lip. Even if she wasn’t involved with the horned fae who tried to kidnap me, she still might be up to something. But i
f I bring up any suspicions now, Harrow will likely become defensive. I can’t risk him shutting off to me. Instead, I simply say, “Make sure they bring nothing harder than alcohol.”
“I’ll try.”
“Good.” I know that’s all he can do. Hopefully, he’s still toward the top of the slippery slope he’s sliding on. But the sooner I act, the better. “I should be going.”
“Yes, get out of my room, human.” Even the word “human” lacks all bite.
“Gladly, prince.” I say the word with offense, but Harrow grins at me. An expression I mirror—like we now share a secret.
I suppose we do.
The door to his room closes behind me and I’m flipping through my mental catalog of herbs as I start down the hall. I’m so focused on finding a good starting point for Harrow that I don’t notice someone in my way and I nearly walk face-first into Eldas. He stops me with a strong hand on my shoulder, which jerks me out of my trance.
“Oh! I-I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” He smiles—smiles! It’s like the sun rose on his face. But the clouds quickly roll back in and the expression vanishes as he releases me, as if catching himself. “I was actually coming to look for you.”
“You found me.”
“I did.” He glances over my shoulder. “Where’s Hook?”
Even if the beast is a part of him, I can’t help but be warmed by the fact that he’s asking after my wolf. “He’s with Willow. I thought he’d enjoy it much more there than attending Harrow with me.”
“Ah, how is my brother?”
“Well enough to be trenchant.” A shadow crosses Eldas’s expression. His jaw is set instantly. I hold up my hands. “No, no, it was fine. I know his quips mean he’s getting better.” I laugh. “Plus, I’m getting used to him.”
“You’re…getting used to my brother?”
“People can drink poison if they take it in small enough doses for long enough,” I retort.
Eldas snorts, another flicker of amusement crossing his face. I do like amusing him. I like his small smiles and mischievous looks.
“How is he doing?”
“He’ll be fine. He just needs to enjoy the nightlife less. I told him he should stay in the castle for a while and rest—no going out.”
“Hopefully he’ll listen to you. He certainly doesn’t listen to me,” Eldas mutters.
“We’ll see… But I’m not confident I’ll have much success.” I glance over my shoulder and back toward Harrow’s door. Really, I’m keeping an eye out for Sevenna. I can only acclimate to so much poison at a time and I have no energy for her withering stare today. “In any case, I should get back to work.”
“As should I,” Eldas says. Yet, we both linger. “Oh, I almost forgot, I wanted to return this.” He holds out a familiar journal. “It took me a little longer than the last one to get through.”
“You still got through it in record time.” I take the journal with both hands and stretch my fingers in search of the jolt that happens when our skin touches. But the tome is too large, and our hands don’t meet.
“Yes, I’ll need another,” he says thoughtfully, his voice low. “Would I…” He clears his throat and it dislodges some of the gravel in his voice. I rather liked the gravel. “Would it be all right if I were to come and retrieve another from your apartments later?” Eldas asks with all the primness and propriety expected of a king.
I bite in a laugh and smile. “Of course, Eldas. You’re welcome anytime.”
“Good.” He nods and breezes past as if things haven’t just fundamentally changed once more between us. “I’ll see you later, Luella.”
There’s something about the way my name rolls off his tongue, or the husk of his voice as he passes, that has me standing in place, toes curling into my boots, long after he’s disappeared into Harrow’s room.
Chapter 26
I take dinner from my desk, more determined than ever to scour through the queens’ books. Specifically, I look for information on the heartroot. Harrow’s recovery has, in both instances, exceeded my expectations. Since all the other herbs are ones I’m familiar with and have used many times over before, I can only assume that the variable is in the heartroot.
To my delight, Willow joins me for dinner and we spend late into the evening discussing heartroot and its magical properties. He helps me skim through journals in search of the first queen to work with the rare herb. The only thing we find is a single mention in the journal of the queen who brought that heartroot from the northern marshes—the same queen who spoke of ending the cycle. I search to see if the two are connected in some way, but when the hunt yields nothing I know I’m just seeing what I want to see.
Willow sits in a chair across from me, occupying one half of my desk. I sit at the other end, food forgotten as we scour. Hook is curled up between our feet, gladly accepting scratches with our toes.
The clock I ordered chimes nine and I’m broken from a trance. I look up for the first time in hours and rub my bleary eyes. Hazy, pale shadows dance outside the windows of my room.
“Oh…”
Willow looks up as well, turning from me to the windows behind him. He pauses, lips pursed, studying the falling snow with as much intensity as he was the journal moments ago.
“Snow in spring, warn the king. Snow in summer, the queen yet slumbers.”
“What?”
Willow repeats himself at my question.
“No, I heard you…what’s that?”
“Oh, it’s an old rhyme.” He turns away from the window. “Snow in spring, warn the king—I think it implies that there may be something wrong with the queen. Because we shouldn’t have snow once spring comes. Snow in summer—”
“The queen yet slumbers,” I finish. “Meaning, she hasn’t come back yet. The last queen is dead and it’s winter when it should be summer.” Willow nods. I stare at the fat, falling snow, apprehension filling my gut. It mocks the bright spring weather here mere hours ago. “I think you should go.”
“Are you sure?”
“I need to see Eldas.” The words hurt to say and the pain of them will only be the beginning of tonight’s agony.
Willow sighs and closes the journal he was thumbing through. The notes he was taking are tucked inside. He stands and Hook stands with him. Willow gives the wolf a scratch between the ears.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Hook. And you too, Luella.”
I wish he didn’t sound slightly worried and doubtful saying that. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I hope.
“If you need me, summon me no matter the time.” Willow departs and I pace my room several times in front of the large windows.
I’m not surprised when there’s a knock on my door.
“Come in, Eldas.”
The door opens and I don’t even bother looking. But, sure enough, his voice cuts through my rampant thoughts. “How did you know it was me?”
“Lucky guess.” I glance over my shoulder with a shrug.
“I haven’t made it a habit to come to your room in the evenings.”
“Well, given that it’s snowing…”
His gaze shifts, as though he saw only me from the first moment he opened the door. A frown pulls on his lips. His eyes are hard and severe. “So it is.”
“You weren’t coming here because of that?”
“I was coming for a new journal. But you are correct in that this is a more pressing matter.”
“I will have to sit on the throne again, won’t I?” I worry the labradorite ring on my right hand nervously.
“You will.” He sounds apologetic, the words rife with worry.
“Let’s go, then.”
“Now?” He seems startled by the idea.
“When else? It must be done, and I’d rather get it over with when I have all night to try and recover.” More like, while I have my courage together. Before the fear really sets in.
“Luella, you’ll be fine.” Even he doesn’t sound convinced.
; I shrug. I know what I’ve read. The throne doesn’t get easier. Queens just get used to it. I have no choice but to endure the world trying to drain every drop of life from me.
“Luella.” The soft note in Eldas’s voice brings my eyes up to him. “You have had more time to allow your magic to settle and to acclimate to Midscape. You know what’s coming.”
“I just want to get it over with,” I say faintly. “Please, take me there.”
“Very well.” He obliges.
In what seems like no time at all, we’re in the throne room. It’s almost so cold that my breath clouds and I fight a shiver. I’m in a simple shift dress—long sleeved, luckily—but the cotton isn’t nearly thick enough for this.
“At least when I sit on the throne again, it’ll get warmer.” I make an attempt to grin, but Eldas doesn’t mirror the emotion so it quickly falls from my face. He exudes worry with every step.
“I’ll be here the entire time,” he says as we pause before the throne. “I’ll pull you out like last time, if need be.”
Last time. The thought has my body aching. I square off against the throne. If I can leave home, go to Lanton, become an herbalist, become the Human Queen, and manipulate the earth, then I can do this. I refuse to let a throne control me.
“Let’s get this over with,” I say, sounding more stable than I feel.
Turning, I tip backwards and allow myself to fall into the seat. If I try to ease myself down, I may pull away at the last second. Fear could get the better of me and turn the inevitable into something more unbearable than it already is.
Right before my body hits the throne, I look up and all I see is Eldas.
I’m here, his eyes seem to say. I’ll be here.
I don’t get a chance to thank him. The air is sucked from my lungs and I’m plunged into darkness. Keep your wits about you, Luella, I command myself. I know what’s coming and I’m not going to let the shock steal my senses.
Deeper and deeper, I sink into the core of the earth. The sensation is somewhere between the first and second time I interacted with the throne. I am as immersed as the first. But it’s less violent, like the second.
Eldas’s phantom fingers splay across where I imagine my stomach would be, if I had a stomach in this form. Focus, I can hear him command. The magic responds to you. You are its master. It is not the master of you.