At last, I could touch her without reclaiming them.
But at last…she would know.
In the moment my flesh skimmed hers, she would recognize who I was if my scarred hands didn’t give it away first. It would all collapse to be built anew.
I laughed. Falling back into bed and covering my eyes, I laughed until gasping breaths shook my chest. I laughed until icy tears creeped down my cheeks. “So…this is how the beginning of the end feels…” Years of manipulation, plotting, scheming; generations of waiting; and this is where I landed, dreading it?
My Mabilia. My soul. I never had a chance. From the beginning, my only choice was to love her, but I had never loved anyone like this before. I had loved my people, my faeries, with a sense of duty, but to love a life so completely and fully that seeing any harm come to it brought what remained of me to tears? That was new. And I hated it.
If I could keep my secret forever and take her away from her cage, always be her faerie, I knew in a heartbeat I would. I would throw it all away for the time I could have with her, even if it were only the time her parents had stolen from me when they’d washed my forest in the blood of innocent creatures to find my name.
Just an hour to hold her, to feel whole once more, and I would trade in the future.
“Okayyy,” Mythalzen sang, marching back into my room with a tray, “we have your favorite this morning, my lord. How wonderful is that?”
I peeked beneath my hands at his dumb grin and sighed. He had arranged the nuts and berries into a sort of hair on the platter, setting two eggs for eyes and mutilating a slice of buttered bread into a smile.
Looking at him, I cursed beneath my breath. All my brief fantasies fell apart, and I knew if I could, I might take an hour, but I wouldn’t if it meant I’d take this idiot’s future. “That’s repulsive,” I commented.
His brows shot high. “It’s a complete breakfast.”
“I have a strict rule about eating things with faces.”
He stared at me very sternly, lifted a finger to point at one fried egg, then whispered, “This could have had a face. And it’s your favorite.”
He got me there. Sitting up, I snatched the tray with a sigh and ate, letting my dream and the memories of Mabilia’s crying pleas drift away. As long as she remained in rest, she was at peace. And as long as she was at peace, I could proceed with what I had to do.
Chapter 3
The Truth Revealed
Panic saturated the air, hanging in it like the scent of a rotting carcass. I moved through the castle halls invisibly, choking on the thick, grimy tang of metal. Guard after guard passed, but I ignored them. Hands shaking and skin prickling, I stopped before the throne room. Once, the door had been wood displaying an elaborate scene of forested mountains. Now, it—like everything else in this accursed place—was iron.
Was this where the world began to descend into my nightmares? Did Dale’s influence encourage the progress of steel and science to defend against the fae before forgetting us completely? Very rarely did I receive the full process of how my dreams came to be, but I had gotten quite good at filling in the empty pieces.
Now, however, I had more concrete matters to attend, and the sooner I could remove myself from this place, the higher chance I had to survive. Lifting a pocketed hand, I knocked against the door and gritted my teeth when the fabric of my clothes didn’t entirely mask the heat leaching through the metal.
Guards from within opened the way to the throne room, and I took a deep breath before marching inside.
“What is it?” King Daryl asked, narrowing his eyes on the empty space where I stood, still hidden. Instinct forced his hand to his blade. “Show yourself, faerie.”
The sparse guards in the room stiffened, gazes wary and searching.
Just as well. The iron in the room choked my glamour away a second before I beckoned it to fall. Queen Aurea gasped and stood, plucking a dagger from the belt at her waist. “You,” she spat, only the barest hint of fear trickling into her voice. “I should have known. Where is she, Rumpelstiltskin? What have you done with her?”
Swords rasped from their sheathes, and I clutched my fists in the pockets of my coat. A thin layer of sweat beaded on my forehead. “Why don’t we talk privately?”
Daryl’s face hardened, familiar. Every day he looked more like his father, but there was something there…something more. Silently, with the barest look alone, he counseled with his wife, then nodded. “Leave us.”
“Your Majesty, he is weakened. We could—” The captain of the guard stepped forward, but Daryl stopped his complaint with a single raised hand.
“He has Lia.” Together, we sneered. I at that name, and he at me.
“Couldn’t you have shortened it to ‘Mab’ at least?” My skin boiled, the flesh seeming to peel back, raw.
Daryl didn’t answer me until every guard had left, then he stepped down from his throne, Aurea at his side. Blade extended, he pointed the lethal weapon at me. “Where is she?”
“If I told you simply, you’d kill me.”
“How?” Aurea stomped within two feet of me, and a flicker of panic crossed Daryl’s eyes. She lifted her dagger, poising it close enough that I could hear the hum of the metal whistling in my ears. “You had no right to take her.”
My teeth bared. “I have always had every right.” Swallowing, I stepped back, away from the sting of her blade. “I have not taken her, but I know where she is.”
“Where?” Daryl met Aurea and subtly clutched her wrist to keep her from following my retreat.
Everything about this place made me dizzy. “You must understand that you cannot reach her.”
“We won’t make a deal with you.” Hatred burned in Aurea’s eyes. It was an animal I had seen before in Mabilia’s whenever she mentioned me.
“No, I suppose you’ve learned that lesson. Third time’s the charm?” I smirked, knowing it was no pretty thing. Sweating and shaking and ashen, I knew I looked more dead than alive the longer I inhaled poison. “I don’t want a deal; I require a request.”
“How do we know no magic pollutes your request?”
“I suppose you’ll just have to decide what’s more important: the risk or your daughter.”
When I grinned, a shiver cut through Aurea. Fear she had masked well piled upon her in droves, but she clung to nothing save her own dagger, and had she not become something despicable, I might have commended her.
“What do you want?” Even Daryl’s voice shook, and Aurea’s head whipped to him, her eyes wide.
“After I’ve saved her, allow me three days with her, outside this cage.”
“No.” Aurea shook her head. “Absolutely not. Three days with you? She’s young. One wrong word, one accidental bargain…”
“Mabilia is precious.” The word hissed out through my bared teeth. “Any in my court would die for laying a hand on her or for attempting to contract with her. I do not intend to bargain, and she is far too wise to fall into one anyway.”
“We can’t trust you.” Daryl narrowed his eyes. “How can we trust she will be returned to us exactly as she left?”
I licked my dry lips and pretended my throat wasn’t parched. “What’s more important?” I repeated darkly. “The risk, or your daughter?”
I BREATHED A SIGH of relief as I stepped into Mabilia’s room, her parents trailing me, blades ready. The saturation of iron felt like a thousand ants had taken residence beneath my skin; they crawled, leaving bites on my muscles, but in Mabilia’s chamber, some of the pain eased.
Every surface, every wall, every scrap that could be had been coated in vibrant colors. Vines crawled up her iron bed, which she had painted bark brown with a likeness the dryads would acclaim. Lilies floated atop her dresser, rushing off the drawers in torrents of waterfalls. The paint made from minerals, herbs, and petals softened the deadly hints of metal.
I loved her room. It provided me a portal into the future, a mere glimpse, but more than enough to keep me
going.
“Why are we here?” Aurea narrowed her eyes when I faced her. “She’s not in her bedroom. Of course we checked her bedroom.”
“Yes,” I murmured, my patience thinning, “I suppose you checked as a human would. Under the bed. In the closet. True fae don’t hide in grotesque locations like that.”
“Lia is human,” Aurea gritted. “Don’t group her with the likes of you.”
“How soon we forget that our own blood is tainted.” I meandered away from the woman and ran a finger down the soft face of the stuffed bear laying on Mabilia’s bed. As perfect as the day I’d given it to her when she was four, its glass eyes shimmered with the enchantment that would never let it grow old. So much love fed the innocent gift, and brushing it even with gloved hands sent a chill through me.
She recalled the day she thought she created me so fondly?
“You’re wasting time, faerie.” Daryl lifted his blade and pointed it at me from where he stood at the door. “Where is my daughter?”
“I’m providing her several more moments of peace, perhaps.” Licking my lips, I grinned at Aurea. “You held the most of me. We were close during the years leading up to your awakening. Do you remember it? The nightmare and the pain?”
She paled, taking a stilted breath. “It was around this age…”
“Yes.”
“But she’s been able to talk with animals since she was an infant! And we noticed her using glamour on the guards—”
“The bare minimum qualities of most fae. It is rare any aren’t born with such.”
“She is not fae!” Tears filled Aurea’s eyes; she trained them not to fall. “She’s nothing like you! She’s mine! My little girl. You can’t take her from me physically or in spirit.”
“Quite the wording.” For her sake, I tamed my smile. “To be sincere, she is neither wholly human, nor wholly faerie. The one thing she does happen to be, however, is my spirit. Her awakening was as explosive as mine was, if I can recall so long ago. She’s found herself lost in the power.” I turned to the walls of her bedroom. Endless layers of fields and forests and distant grey-blue mountains delved past the metal plates, deeper and deeper, until it appeared as though an entire world lay in the picture.
“You don’t mean…” Daryl stared at the painting, lifting his hand to press against it.
“Explain,” Aurea hissed.
“Well, she splintered. The painting caught her when she came back together and—”
“No, about how she’s your spirit. What have you done?” Rage bubbled in her eyes.
My fangs glinted. I pinned Aurea with my stare and tilted my head. “How clever. You have grown—a shame it had to be through preparation for war.”
“Answer me, Rumpelstiltskin. Your magic lives in us, not anything else.”
“Correction: my magic evolved in you both. And half my soul slumbered in your womb. You gave birth to the half of my soul I cleaved from myself.” Humor set aside, I let a whisper of breath past my lips. “I need her back.”
Howling, I leaped away from Daryl’s blade, clasping my throat where the barest brush had skimmed my flesh. Blood, blackened and on fire, covered my gloved hand when I pulled it back to see the damage. I seethed at him.
He stood tall, daring me to face him. “Even if this is the case, she is no longer yours.”
“How dare you,” I hissed. “She has always been mine. Always. You have never been more than the vessels for her realization. And while I can’t have her, you must know that I love her. I love her like a final breath. I adore her. She is precious and good, and of all the things in this world, she has what remains of my heart.”
“What does a monster like you know of love?” Aurea regarded me coldly, venom in her stare. My injury bolstered her courage, and the disdain on her face was repulsive.
I snarled, “What could a human like you know of monsters?”
The standoff led neither of us anywhere, and I didn’t know how deep Mabilia had gone into her world. I could waste no more time. “I need you to know that no harm will come to her. I need you to promise me my time with her. And I need you to protect this mural while I fetch her, because if anything happens to this,” I pointed at the wall painted with vibrant blues and greens, “we will both perish.” Ripping off my bloody glove, I extended my hand. “Swear the picture remains untouched until we emerge together, and swear my reward of three days with her.”
He didn’t flinch. “There’s a world in there, and if you do suppose you care for her, I don’t want you to trap her in it. Swear you’ll return her as swiftly as you can manage.”
The nerve of him suggesting I would trap her, while we stood in her iron cage. I growled. “Whatever it seems, it is only paint. We can neither eat nor drink in that realm. I will not swear to return her as swiftly as you may like, but I will swear she won’t starve.”
Daryl looked at Aurea, who shook, covering her mouth. When she blinked, tears traced down her cheeks to disappear beneath her hand, but she nodded. Daryl clasped my hand.
Ice crawled up his arm, and I didn’t relinquish my grip. He never relinquished my stare. Pulling me nearer, ice linking our limbs together, he whispered, “She is not yours. You gave her up. Realize that, faerie, and return her to us.”
“If you weren’t her father,” I whispered crudely, crushing his bones, “I would at the very least take this arm from you.” Shoving him aside, I released him, and the ice vanished as quickly as it had come. I stepped before the mural, glancing at Aurea. She hadn’t been expecting me to look at her again, and the terror she had kept hidden lay clear on her face. Despite myself, I pitied her. “She will be safe,” I murmured, though spite still filled my voice, and I wasn’t sure how comforting the words sounded.
I didn’t bother waiting for a reply as I stepped into the universe settled upon her walls of iron, so close to the death and yet I never skimmed it as I set foot upon lush fields.
The paint shivered where I stood, and I glanced behind myself at a box depicting Mabilia’s bedroom as though each wall were a mirror peering into the still frame. The strange structure was the only one in sight.
I felt her in my chest, a gentle beat of breath, but she did not stir. If our roles were reversed, I wouldn’t be found in a field of green; I’d be hidden atop a mountain peak, basking in snow and ice.
Fixing my gaze on the distant frosty crags, a forlorn smile tipped my lips. “Hello, darling…” Sunlight, which wasn’t sunlight at all, streamed from beyond the crest in an eternal dawn. I went toward it, staining my boots along the way with residual paint. The land was bright, cheerful, and everlasting; would this be how it looked when she made the world for us?
After what might have been hours of walking, I skirted the edge of a quiet, dark forest and began climbing the grey stone dusted with white. Unusual weeping buds that looked almost like feathered wings sprang from the cracks, bobbing on a gentle breeze as though they could fly away. The breeze harshened the further I climbed, beckoning me forward, drawing me farther from the portal home. It pressed against my back, then filled with snow.
The snow was still, unmoving, hanging in the air like a million twinkling lights. My breath held when I came around a bend, catching sight of a silk nightgown beneath a willow. She fit perfectly in the space. So perfectly that she could have been painted there herself.
Ice crystals splintered designs over her skirts, flakes clinging to her cheeks and lashes. It wasn’t cold here, but she shuddered in rest, as though she sensed my approach.
I crouched beside her, hesitant. All these years, I had wanted nothing more than to touch her, but I was afraid. Was she cold, like me? Warm? Would she know instantly what I was? Or would fate spare me a moment, just a moment, before hate pooled in her eyes, and she wanted nothing to do with me?
“Mabilia,” I whispered, touching her covered shoulder and shaking her gently. “Come, Princess, it’s time.”
She moaned, curling deeper in on herself, then she squinted at me. Re
lief etched her blue eyes, and her lips parted. “My faerie,” she said, breathless. Her eyes watered, and she gripped my sleeve. “Oh, my faerie. You’re back. What happened to me?” Her choked laugh broke my heart. “I was so scared. No wonder I couldn’t call you.” Tears fell, and they dropped like crystals down her cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re here now. I’ve been so alone.” Her breaths were short, and I knew she was still terrified.
“You awakened,” I said. “It happens to all the fae when they reach a certain age. For most, it isn’t at all pleasant.”
She laughed, the bubbly sound choked. “Silly faerie, I’m not fae.” Rubbing her eyes, she pushed herself slowly up, then froze, staring around her. “Where… Am I outside?” Excitement filled her voice a second before fleeing. She paled. “Oh…oh, no.” She scrambled for anything she could find, but no twigs or leaves marred the perfect scene.
“We’re in the painting on your wall.” And I’m really a faerie. And you hate me.
Surprise widened her gaze, but she calmed, perusing the scenery. Dragging a hand through her dark hair, she nodded. “Oh…right. Yes, I seem to remember…” She wet her lips, and looked at her hands. Stained white, they barely appeared any different than normal. She brought one to her face and sniffed, then she bit her lip, holding onto a laugh.
“It doesn’t smell like iron.” Peering at me, she teased, “I’m sure you love that, mister faerie. I have absolutely tortured you over the years.”
I smiled with her. “It’s been worth it.” Using my still-gloved hand, I reached to pin a straying lock of hair behind her ear.
Her brows crashed down, and I jerked back when she reached for me instead. “What’s that?” she asked. “On your throat.” Her narrowed eyes muddled with confusion. “Are you injured? How…”
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