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She should know better than to look to me for comfort. I am the queen’s pawn.
The broken spell vanishes as if it never existed, taking its pain with it.
But which spell was it? I cannot sense what magic still lives in me yet. It lies dormant, waiting, resting. I suppose time will tell.
Rising to my feet, I force myself to turn away from the dying human and face Elizabeth. She is the woman I’ve always known her to be, yet the sight of her is unnerving as her expression of joy contrasts with the macabre slash of blood.
“Come,” she says, in a tone sweeter than honey. “It is time to put such trivial matters behind us. There is more important business we must attend to.”
A raven circles overhead, then it dives. Wings beating the air as it alights on Elizabeth’s shoulder. It bellows a screeching croak once, then bounds back into the air.
I obey. At her side, Elizabeth slips her hand into the crook of my elbow. We walk toward the castle, the queen’s guards follow far enough behind to allow us privacy but not so much as to be ineffective.
The Voice remains behind. Though I did not see Elizabeth give a command, she must have. If not, it doesn’t seem to bother her in the least.
In moments, we are within the walls of Nightwich. I am alone with Elizabeth, my thoughts hazy. I seem to have lost a bit of time. That or the curse consumed more memories. Devoured parts of my mind as it fought for control.
We stop before the closed doors of my rooms. With my hand hovering over the doorknob, I turn to Elizabeth. “What… happened?” I ask.
I glance over my shoulder as if I could see through the walls of Nightwich, to the field. Back to the moment that some magic splintered and broke away from within.
Elizabeth turns her face up, her lips a bright red. “Everything was finally made right.” Her hands press against my chest, and she pushes up on her toes, bringing her mouth to my ear. “Rest, then feed.”
She pulls back and looks me over, evaluating.
I frown, then shake my head. “I don’t understand.”
“That human was responsible for everything that you have suffered. She is the reason for your curse. Do not doubt that.” The last comes out like a command.
Kharis circles above our heads, their wings mimic the beating of a heavy drum.
I bow my head and give her the only answer I can. “Thank you, my queen. I am in your debt.”
“That will be settled soon enough.” Elizabeth turns to leave, pausing after a few steps.
My mouth goes dry as I cannot figure out if I hope she leaves or turns around and decides to stay.
“The coronation will be here before you know it. Once you are crowned, you will never again have to worry about being cursed because of some insignificant mortal.”
I dip my chin. It seems to be the correct response. And then she is gone. Disappointment shakes me at the core. The reasons for it are as hazy as everything else since leaving that field. Is it from Elizabeth’s lack of concern? Or the turn of events?
A fire roars in the hearth, chasing away the cold and stale air that settled in my absence. The wood crackles and shifts as the dancing flames consume it.
Inside the quiet parlor, I lean against the door. Impossibly, it feels less welcoming than the cramped underground cell the wolves kept me in. I press my palm to my chest and rub. I can still feel the resonance from the snap of magic within.
Was Clara so skilled at lying that she could rewrite the truths of reality to suit her purposes? Skilled enough to make me believe her over my queen, even for a moment? There was something inhuman about her, though she is nothing more than mortal.
Elizabeth said Clara was the one who cursed me. Except a human could never curse a vampire. They would need the power of a demon—but that would make them something else.
What I felt that night couldn’t have been manufactured by an enchantment or manipulation… and the way she looked at me as she lay there bleeding to death. Her fingers reaching for me… it was not help or comfort she sought for herself. She was offering it to me.
Was…
Already, I have begun to think of her as one of the dead. With the oath bond, I thought I would be able to sense it either way.
No human could have survived those injuries long enough for help to arrive. I wonder if that wolf reached her in time to hold her hand as she slipped into the Otherworld.
I took a chance and gambled. Yet, all I accomplished was creating a hollow pit where some spell once clung to my marrow. I have gained many questions but no answers.
