A Curious Twist of Lime

by Heather R. Blair

  Of course, I might have descendants. My sister’s children. The thought is surprisingly comforting. I’d like to meet them—and someday I shall. I’ll find my way home again. But for now, I’m in Georg’s world and I want—

  No. I need to find my place in it.

  My jaw firms. I reach for the fallen newspaper before folding it neatly and setting it back on the table. Then I get to my feet.

  I spend hours pursuing the stacks. Revelation after revelation astounds me. I knew about automobiles, though their prevalency in this time is shocking. The Master never brought me books published past the turn of the last century—the 20th century. There are airplanes now. Men have been to the moon. No women, unfortunately. But women have been to space.

  I stand in one section of the stacks, staring into distance. I should feel more overwhelmed than ever, these concepts stretching my mind far farther than the idea of magic did when I first went to Niflheim.

  Instead, I find myself growing giddy all over again. Surely for a world like this, anything is possible. Yes, I’ve read of wars, two horrendous ones in particular. And many other atrocities that tear at my heart.

  None of that convinces me that humankind is quite as awful as Jada inferred. Lost in thought, I wander back to the doors, several books in hand. Low voices murmur outside, but not so low that the sound of my own name doesn’t have me hesitating after the door knob clicks free.

  “—he got Alice drunk last night.” A dry chuckle. “I doubt it took much to make her spill her guts. She’s very trusting.”

  My fingers halt in midair.

  “By trusting, you mean stupid. Typical human.” This voice is not as familiar to me as Konstantin’s, but I still recognize it. The major domo. Asher.

  The one who called me a thing.

  I start to back away from the cracked door, my cheeks hot.

  “Now Asher, that’s unfair. It’s hardly the chit’s fault she’s naïve. Locked away all her life, she’s probably never tasted alcohol—”

  The voices trail off, not because the speakers have drifted away, but because my mind has.

  I know what alcohol is, though Konstantin is correct that I’ve never drank any. Itzel keep wine in the castle, but I hated the smell of it. I didn’t know margarita was an inebriant. Georg tricked me. For a long moment I just stand there, unable to accept it. Why?

  Why would he do such a thing?

  But the voices outside the door offer the answer to that as well.

  “—he was satisfied she wasn’t sent by the Master then?”

  “Seemed to be.”

  “Then he’s stupid, too.”

  Konstantin’s voice hardens. “Think before you speak, old man.” The rattle of armor as he shifts his weight. “He feels sorry for her, more like. How could he not, especially when she’s so taken with him?”

  Sick and dizzy, I back away from the door, barely noticing when the books I’ve gathered fall from my hands. Asher’s right, I am stupid. It wasn’t a potion and we weren’t just having dinner.

  Georg was testing me, seeing if my story held up when my defenses were down.

  Defenses I lowered so easily for him. Because he’s the one person here I thought liked me. My friend.

  And the kisses we shared? What were they? Another trick to lower my defenses?

  Tears fly faster than my feet as I rush back through the stacks. There must be another way out of this place. Sure enough, a few minutes later, I find a servant’s door, tucked away in a shadowy corner.

  I’m no idea where I am, and the blank and featureless passageway doesn’t help. But when I poke my head out into the hallway proper a long while later, I recognize the corridor leading to my own bedchamber. Hands trembling, I shut the servant’s door behind me, only to hear voices up ahead, coming this way. Jada and some of the other servants. Not now.

  Knowing I can’t slip into my bedroom before they see me, and afraid they’ll use the door I just exited, I pull back into the shadows and press my back into the cold stone. One hand on my furiously beating heart, I push hard as if I can force it to beat more softly. There’s small hope they won’t smell me, but a window just across the way might help with that. The breeze it lets in cools the tears on my face. I close my eyes, willing myself to be as invisible as they always pretend I am.

  “Perhaps he’s amusing himself with the human. Jada told me this morning—”

  Jada’s voice, suddenly sharp. “Don’t go bearing tales, Lissa. I only told you I found a blanket with his scent on the floor. Nothing more.”

  A sniff. “He should take a proper mate. That would settle things. Someone from the court, then the rumors will stop.”

  “What rumors?” Jada again.

  “That one had a mate once, haven’t you heard? A witch.” This last is whispered with a kind of gleeful horror. “They say he’s never gotten over her.”

  I blink, startled out of my misery. Georg, with a witch? Like Itzel? It sounds ridiculous.

  The women are right across from me now. Jada’s smooth, dark head comes up and I shrink back again, holding my breath. If she turns her head just a fraction, she’ll surely see me.

  Lissa’s voice is somewhere between pensive and annoyed. “They say that’s what got him killed. He broke a vow for her and those wolves killed him for it. I’ve heard he was—”

  I’ve heard enough. I cover my ears, sinking down on my heels, waiting for them to gain the end of the hallway.

  Minutes later, I lower my hands, staring straight ahead as the sound of swishing skirts fades away. I feel . . . numb, but my head is pounding, even more than it did this morning. I get to my feet, clinging to the wall for support.

  Maybe Georg had a reason for doing what he did, but I guess I am stupid, because I can’t see it. Anything he wanted to know, I would have told him, gladly and without reservation.

  How could he think I could be some sort of a threat? It’s insane. And the story about the witch—his mate….

  The joyful bubble that lightened my steps earlier is gone as I enter my beautiful bedchamber again. I won’t be back.

  All I need is my satchel and Papa’s watch. Like I told Georg, I can take care of myself.

  And even if I can’t, surely the consequences will be less painful than this. As

  I reach for the satchel by the bed, my hand is shaking so badly it knocks a book off the stack on the nightstand. Cursing, I lean down to pick it up, but the sight of the cover has me dropping the book as is the pages are on fire.

  Pride and Prejudice.

  This is not one of the books I grabbed from Samuel’s library. It’s my copy—one I wore nearly to pieces. One that should be sitting on a shelf back at the Master’s castle.

  Instead, it’s here. I stare down at that old familiar cover and shudder.

  Which means the Master is, too. Somewhere.

  I stare at it, my breath coming fast and hard before I grit my teeth and get to my feet.

  I guess it’s a good thing I was already leaving.

  12

  “Good day, milord.” It’s one of the servants. Blond and pretty in a sharp sort of way. I can’t recall her name. She drops a quick curtsy from her position next to the neatly made bed. I nod absently, looking around the empty room.

  It’s been a whole day since my meeting with Samuel. He’s called the Elders in and I’ve sent a message to Aggie as ordered. Both parties are expected tomorrow. I’m not sure which grilling I am looking forward to less, only that some time with Alice will be a welcome distraction.

  Except she’s not here.

  The smile on the chambermaid’s lips stretches at my low growl.

  “Looking for the human, milord?” She plumps a pillow with a languid slap or two.

  Is it really so hard for them to use her fucking name? “The human is called Alice.”

  “As you say, milord.”

  “I already checked the library, but she wasn’t there. Did you see her go out?”

  “No.” A shrug.
“I assumed she was with you, milord.” There is something sly in her tone that hardens my own.

  “Obviously, that is not the case.”

  “Perhaps she went out to the gardens.” She blows out a breath that fails to hide her scorn. “The sun seems to fascinate her.”

  Pathetic thing. What can he possibly see in her?

  The wayward thought she isn’t quick or powerful enough to guard has my growl building to a snarl. Instantly, the girl freezes in place, her eyes wide.

  “Forgive me, milord,” she whispers.

  I grit my teeth. “Alice was trapped in a world of mist and nightmares for hundreds of years. I daresay the sun does fascinate her—she hadn’t seen it since before you or I were born.” There is enough of my bear in the words that her face goes white. “You might want to keep that in mind the next time you call her pathetic.”

  Her eyes are wide when I shut the door. It takes several corridors and turns before my temper cools. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so rough on the girl, but her sheer pettiness got under my skin. Is that how they all treat her?

  I don’t think we want to know. My bear is probably right. Back at the Den, it’s not as if any of us sought out human company—well, except maybe Dominic—but the New World just doesn’t see humans the way they do here. My personal stake in this aside, Samuel is right, these people need to wake up before it is too late. Like it or not, humans rule this world. If we want to maintain our place in it, we cannot afford such archaic prejudices, however warranted they may once have been.

  I refuse to believe anyone at Hearthstone would harm Alice, despite the fear rising in my chest.

  Even Kolya’s attack wasn’t aimed at her in particular. Besides, Konstantin was supposed to be shadowing her last night, though I haven’t seen the mercenary at all today.

  My bear chuffs impatiently. When I lift my head, shadow elemental is the first figure I lay eyes on. He is prowling the gardens and Alice is nowhere in sight. The dark look on his face when he notices me is as good as a neon sign.

  “I take it you’re looking for her, too?”

  “Why the fuck are we looking for her at all? What happened after she left the library last night?”

  He has the grace to look abashed. “I never saw her leave the library.” At my snarl, he raises a hand. “I swear I never left that door, but then Asher came and ordered me to take the King’s message to the Elders. I went inside to look for her, but I couldn’t find her. I figured she was wandering in the stacks somewhere and asked Asher to keep an eye out. By the time I got back, it was morning and he was attending you and the king. I figured Alice was in bed—and I also figured you wouldn’t take kindly to me entering her bedchamber.”

  A bedchamber we’ve almost walked back to by now. I’m seething, until I see a shadow through the half-open door. Thank the gods.

  But stepping closer, I realize it’s not Alice, but the maid. Not the blond I scolded earlier, but the regular servant girl who tends Alice’s chambers. Dark-haired, a bit plump with a sweet face that right now is pinched with worry as she paces back and forth, muttering to herself.

  She jumps when I throw open the door, Konstantin on my heels.

  “Milord.” Jada. Her name leaps into my mind, along with a jumble of panicked thoughts that are too mixed up for me to read properly.

  “Alice wasn’t in the gardens.”

  “Gardens, milord?” She seems confused.

  “The other girl said she might be there.”

  “Miss Alice never—” She bites her lip.

  “She never goes into the gardens, does she?”

  “No, milord. Yesterday was the first time I’d seen her out of her room without you or the shadow man.” She nods nervously at Konstantin.

  My eyes narrow as I get another onslaught of emotions. The uppermost being panic. And suddenly I also get why.

  “You haven’t seen her today? At all?”

  Her cheeks are two bright spots of color in an otherwise colorless face. “I wasn’t able to tend to Miss Alice’s chambers this morning. My mother was sick. I asked Lissa to take care of this wing in my place.”

  “It was well after noon when I came by before. Don’t you usually tend the chambers before then?”

  “We do, milord.” Her breathing is coming in hitches now. “Miss Alice is a late riser. Lissa knows that and she didn’t feel she needed to—ah, rush.”

  More like she didn’t feel the human was high on her list of priorities.

  “Why are you here now then?” It’s too late for cleaning and too early for turning down the bed.

  “Lissa mentioned your visit when I got back to the servants’ quarters.” Jada gives me a pleading look I don’t fully understand.

  “And did she mention when she saw Alice last?”

  “That’s just it, milord. She hadn’t.” Two words and my heart slams against my ribs so hard it feels like they’re going to crack. “Lissa said Miss Alice’s bed weren’t slept in at all.”

  “The servant girl thought Alice spent the night with you.”

  “Clearly,” I snap, taking the stairs two at a time.

  “That’s not good.”

  Konstantin and I’ve been searching the castle and grounds for an hour. Round and round in circles. I can’t catch her scent trail and neither can he. Just an elusive whiff of lilacs here and there throughout the castle. If we don’t find her soon, I’m calling out the castle guard. The only reason I haven’t yet is something I noticed before we left the room. Her precious satchel is gone, along with the bottles of ‘potion.’

  Alice wasn’t taken, she left.

  “I don’t give a damn about servants’ gossip.” We’re headed outside. Into the forest. The thought of Alice out there, alone, is making me insane, but I remind myself, the woman survived Niflheim. Surely she can manage a relatively tame Midgard forest. But I also remember those stories of things in the woods, attacking bruins and I walk faster, cursing under my breath.

  “You should. If you’re named heir, the Elders will be very interested in your little non-liaison.”

  “She’s not their business.”

  “And I thought Alice was naïve.”

  This time I actually get my fingers around his throat before he melts away.

  “She’s not naïve,” I snarl, before spinning back around. “Not a liaison and not a pawn in this fucking game.”

  “Then what is she?”

  Instead of giving him an answer, I stop in the middle of the road. I look down it to where the bridge to Niflheim winks in the darkness. It’s closed now, but come dawn it will open again. Did she think of that, of what—or who—could come through there?

  Why the hell did she leave the castle at all? I know she’s been lonely, and after today, it’s clearer than ever she has good reason to be, but after our kiss, after—

  You got her drunk and interrogated her? My bear’s angry chuff obscures an odd sound. Rhythmic and out of place. Almost mechanical. Shut up.

  The sound instantly seems louder.

  I tilt my head. “What’s that?”

  “What’s what?” Konstantin counters.

  I slash at the air as it comes again, and he falls still. I step forward, one pace, then two. Cocking my head, listening so hard my ears ache.

  There it is.

  An enormous oak lies at the edge of the road, roots as high as my knee winding out over a small bluff before plunging down a good fifteen feet. I put my hand on the trunk, leaning out into the darkness and it’s even clearer now. A slow steady ticking. I don’t know what it is, but when I inhale I smell . . .

  Lilacs.

  One leap has me clearing the gnarled roots. I land lightly on the balls of my feet, staring into the bowels of the great tree. It’s a good hiding spot, but my bear spots her immediately. Alice is tucked into the darkness, sound asleep. I grab on to a low-hanging branch to keep from sinking to my knees in relief.

  “Well?”

  “She’s here,” I say softly. “G
o back to the castle and let Jada know.”

  “Milord—”

  “Put an extra patrol on the road. Two, if you like. But see that we’re not disturbed.”

  A single curse is all I hear before the shadow elemental backs away and melts into the night. Alice doesn’t stir. I wait until Konstantin’s footsteps fade to a whisper, then I bend down, my hands shaking as I clear away the brush she used to cover herself.

  She hasn’t moved, a hard sleeper as always. Dark hair curtains her face. There are bits of dust clinging to it and dirt on her pale hands. The satchel is next to her, a pile of worn leather. A half-empty flask gleams at from the top.

  Clearly, she used her power to escape the castle. Alice may not know what she is, but she’s far from helpless.

  It’s a tight fit, but I manage to scoot in next to her. Gods, she’s cold. I can feel her shivering in her sleep. I take both her hands in mine and try to rub some heat back into them, growling all the while. I don’t know why she left Hearthstone—left me, but I can see the tracks of tears on her wan face. Whatever it was, it can fucking wait. She needs sleep.

  I shift closer, pulling her onto my lap.

  Something slides out of her cloak pocket to land on my thigh. It’s brass, with a heavy chain. An old-fashioned pocket watch. I pick it up carefully, running my thumb over the clouded crystal with a bemused smile. This must have been the source of the ticking I heard. I’ve never felt so absurdly grateful to an inanimate object.

  But as I shift Alice again, I notice something odd. Frowning, I lift the watch to my ear.

  Nothing but silence.

  13

  My bed is so warm and cozy, I don’t want to wake up. Not that I ever do, but this is heaven. I snuggle into the smell of wood and sunshine, enjoying the silky-rough hair against my cheek.

  Wait.

  Hair.

  His hair. Because even before I open my eyes, that scent wakes something primal inside me. Something sad and angry and betrayed.

  “You shouldn’t have followed me,” I choke out, trying to push back, to sit up, but it’s all about as effective as trying to shift a brick wall. Those hard arms stay wrapped around me, my head tucked under his chin, one cheek smashed against his chest. There is a rumble in that chest, one I recognize.