CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Calista
Rage. It boiled to the surface as I spun in the center of the room. How could he trap me in here with no exits? Where did he go?
“Nick.”
Astaroth tricked me again. He said he would give Nick a chance at freedom. He never said he would make it possible for Nick to reach the castle. I had to find a way out to save him from Astaroth before darkness fell.
I searched the walls in the hopes they held a hidden doorway like the corridors in the labyrinth. Nothing. The seams between the stones were tight, a vice grip around my chest. My breaths came quicker as I dug my fingertips into the grooves and tugged at the bricks. He could keep me in here forever. A toy to play withand discard at his leisure. No, Astaroth wouldn’t do that. Would he?
Never trust the fae.
“Astaroth!” I pounded and kicked at the wall, but he didn’t reappear.
I screamed until my throat prickled and ached, pushing through our connection for him to return and let me out. He could feel it. I sensed him at the other end. Then, it was like he slammed the door in my face.
“No. You can’t leave me in here!” But he wasn’t listening. Our connection was gone.
The fireplace caught my eye. I ran over and peered up the chimney. It was bricked off, too. The tools clanged on their hanger when I backed out. I snatched the poker off its hook and went to where the door once was. If he wouldn’t let me out, I’d dig myself out.
I struck a groove over and over determined to chip away at the stone, but it was impenetrable. Frustrated, I screamed and threw the poker across the room. It hit his precious bookshelf, knocking books and keepsakes onto the floor. I smirked, imagining his reaction, and retrieved the poker. If I couldn’t have what I wanted, neither would he. I swung and more books fell. Satisfaction filled me with every swing. Shelves cracked beneath the force, pages flew out of the books, and the debris scratched at my hurting, heeled feet as they fell to the floor.
I dropped the poker by my side as I wiped the sweat off my brow and snagged my dress on the sharp tine of the stick. It ripped a hole in the delicate, blood-red material. I needed out of this murder dress and these god-awful shoes before he got back.
Paper stuck to my shoe as I hobbled over the mess. I tried to shake it off and nearly fell over from the jerky movement. Balancing on one foot, I reached down and plucked thediscolored paper from my sole but stopped when I noticed the wide-ruled school paper from Earth.
“What the hell?”
A child’s messy scrawl covered the page with an image of a sunny day. Two figures lay in the center under a tree. One of them was colored brightly with blond hair and blue eyes. The other was all gray with black eyes. The only thing they had in common were the huge smiles on their faces. Somehow, I knew what that cheeky smile looked like surrounded by his long, feral hair. It was the same image I saw when Astaroth took me to the Hall of the Unnamed.
My hand shook as I read the large, messy scrawl. “To Roth, From Cali.”
The page fluttered to the floor.
“No,” I said and went to the closet, kicking the shoes off and yanking the dress down. “I would remember that.”
The image of him as a child went through my mind again. How would I know exactly what he looked like in that moment? “False memories.” Had to be. This place was making me as batshit crazy as they were.
I threw on a t-shirt and yoga pants and shoved my feet in my shoes. Standing at the entrance of my closet, I stared at the mess on the floor and wondered where the picture was hidden and what else I would find.
“Probably more lies,” I mumbled, and skirted the destruction to see if anything stood out.
I tiptoed around the junk, moving things aside with my foot to check under them. A book lay upside down, its pages bent under the weight of the cover. I picked it up, and a tiny piece of paper fell out. Nothing was written on it. Astaroth was probably using it as a bookmark, but it made me wonder if he hid other things in his books. I worked my way around, shaking the books and dropping them back on the floor when nothing fell out.
Sighing, I stood up, rested my hands on my hips, and gazed about the room.
“His nightstand!”
I hopscotched my way out of the mess and went to his side of the bed. There was a second of hesitation before opening the drawer. Did he have it warded like the room? Would an alarm sound if I touched it? Guess I would find out.
I gave the handle a gentle tug and waited. Nothing happened, so I opened it the rest of the way. Astaroth didn’t have a lot in here, but what he did have was well-organized in tiny baskets for quick access. A goblin junk drawer. Everberries, bandages, sharpening stones, odds and ends, and at the back of the drawer, almost hidden from view, was a black book with an ink pen. I picked the plastic tube up and clicked the end. The soothing familiar sound put a smile on my face and nearly made me cry. Strange how the smallest of things could bring such joy in discouraging moments. I clicked it again. The echo of Astaroth snapping his fingers in the arena melted the smile off my face. I bet that’s why his egotistical ass liked it. It reminded him of him. I dropped it and went for the notebook.
The buttery smooth cover surprised me. It felt wonderful in my hands. Even the handmade paper was finer and smoother than in the other books on his shelf. Writing covered the pages, but I couldn’t read their fae language. I pinched the pages and used my thumb to flip through them quickly. They stopped when I reached a marker between them. I picked up the photos and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at them in disbelief.
Leaning against a tree, my thirteen-year-old smiling face filled the rectangle. In the next picture, a young Astaroth was behind me. His cheek rested against the side of my head with his chin slightly tilted down. From the looks of it, he was hugging me. Smiles graced both our faces, but our eyes held my full attention.They twinkled with that special something that only appeared when the key element was present. Love.
Confused and terrified, I shuffled to the next one of me with a goofy face and Astaroth laughing. The final photo stole my ability to breathe. He cradled my head to his shoulder as I gazed up at him. I looked at him as though he hung every star in the sky, and he looked at me like I hung the ones in his eyes. Pure vulnerability radiated between us. The kind you have before it’s destroyed by another and you are forced to build walls to protect yourself.
