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Fifteen
“Why would you bring me here?” I ask, remembering they had alluded to my being sent to where the other humans were as a punishment.
“My reasons are my own, go ask them your questions. Let your mark tell you what is true.” He shooed me away in favor of leaning against the door frame, taking a Goblet from one of the attendants who had spotted his hulking frame. An attendant offered me what looked to be a simple sandwich, which I took eagerly. Scarfing down the simple meal while I let my eyes sweep the room.
It could have been the dark mirror of our own kitchens. Dark flagstones blended in with the dark stone of the wall, to the left was a large hood extending beyond a hearth large enough to fit a grand fire and three cauldrons. All three cauldrons manned by a figure blurred by a cloud of steam. The center of the room sported a long wooden table filled with men and women of all sizes and colors laughing and cutting herbs into baskets that were being carried by small children to an alcove in the far wall. A slender woman with ebony skin and grey striped hair was sorting them into clay jars and placing them on the long shelves already bowing from the weight of their wares. Besides the chimney the door we’d entered was the only exit, so he was still taking precautions, wise of him. Clinging to the edge of the room I made my way to the woman bottling herbs, noting the chatting continued while eyes followed my position, as if I were the danger rather than their captivity or jailer that was sipping blood in the corner.
“Forgive me lady but may I ask you some questions?” I asked meekly, hoping humility would inspire openness.
“If you’re here for answers, go question the Cauldron Keepers, so long as the steam doesn’t dissuade you. Now shoo, you’re intimidating my helpers.” I looked back to see the children hanging several feet back from me, whispering and pointing at my sheared head. Though whether it was the unnatural color or the cut that concerned them I couldn’t tell.
The chimney may well have been clogged as under the hood was curtained by steam. Entering felt like walking into a thermal pool, my eyes stung with the pungent concoction I recognized from the night before. Each figure zeroed in on my entry, their heads raising to show their identical features, their hands still stirring in sync. Chills raced down my back despite the heat as I saw each of their eyes were a milky blue. In their robes I could not say if they were man or woman, only that they were all eerily identical, ageless, and blind.
“Ask your questions, daughter of thorns.”They spoke in unison.
“I wish to know if the humans are being kept here against their will, if they need saving,” I said with as much confidence as I could muster with my eyes tearing up from the steam. Had they gone blind doing this?
“While not their home, still yet their haven. To leave is death for all. Even you, sleepless one.”They spoke.
“Why would they die? Are they under threat?”I ask, swallowing the need to ask about what they called me.
“We’re all under threat, in his war. Humanity is all but forgotten, following now the fate of the Fae.”
“The Fate of the Fae, so it’s not a myth? Why is humanity affected by the Mistress’ war?” I ask, soaked now by sweat and steam.
“A myth they are not, a myth we now fight. The Mistress our only light in the night.”
“Can you speak plainly? I just wish to help you, to set you free.” I wheeze, dying to leave.
“You do have that power, daughter of thorns. But only when you see rightly and settle your score. Reveal the deceiver, reclaim what is lost, find your true power before it is dust.”
The steam parted as a hand gripped my arm, pulling me out of the steam-smothered hood. I struggled weakly, unable to see. But relaxed when my hand was placed in the familiar crook of an arm. I didn’t need blindfolding, my eyes continued to stream as we turned down countless identical dark halls. I didn’t see the door open before familiar splashes of purple entered my blurring vision.
“You took her to the Cauldron Keepers?” The Mistress’s voice called out.
“I did, she had questions.” He said flippantly as he led me to the bed. A slender pair of hands gripped my chin, tilting my head up until I could see the dark silhouette of her. Her hair and dark twisted horns were framed by the faint outline of her wings. None of it was clear, only color and shadow visible to me now. Had that been the price of my vague answers? To go blind like them? I began to laugh, tears still freely falling from my eyes. When would I learn to ask the price before demanding the answer?
“I wonder the same, Nettle. Now hold still.” I did as she said, unsure of what she was about to do, but trusting that to disobey would be worse. A dribble of warm liquid hit my cheek, and I instinctually made to look at what had caused it, forgetting my blindness. Her hand gripped my cheek, and the liquid continued across my eyes, turning my vision red. I blinked rapidly and tried to shake off her grip, my mind convinced the red was our own end. When her grip did not falter, and more blood followed I squeezed my eyes closed against it.
“She’s a stubborn weed I’ll give her that.” Ravensford’s voice came from nearby. “Tell me Nettle, have you already grown so fond of your blindness you’d refuse the remedy simply to spite the source?” He chuckled, and the sound loosened the grip of my panic. Remedy? I slowly opened my eyes to allow more blood in and found my vision had already grown, I could now see the shape of the Mistress's lips, pursed in thought or perhaps frustration. I blinked against more blood, there was the gold of her eyes. Another blink, the flaming orbs above her horns. A final blink, the Captain waggling his fingers from the corner of the room.
I tried to lunge past the mistress only for her to grab and keep me easily at arms length. I leaned around her to point a finger at the Captain.
“You asshole! Why didn’t you warn me?? You made me believe you were trying to help me, just to sabotage me!”
“Sabotage you? I never told you to go under that hood, you could have asked anyone in that room how they got there and they would have told you. Instead you go straight for the herbalist and she thinks you want your fortune told! Honestly, how was I supposed to know you’d land yourself into the only bit of trouble to be found?”
I let my breath come in heaps, certain the next breath will have the perfect comeback to hurl at him, but instead I feel more and more sheepish. It had felt like the clear answer, like the only path forward. Were my instincts so backwards that I couldn’t count on them to do anything but lead me to my own detriment again and again? I looked up at the Mistress’s Gold eyes and found only quiet contemplation. Why wasn’t she angry?
“Why do you keep helping me?” I all but shouted, annoyed by the continued disconnect between who I thought she’d be and who she was.
“I already told you.” She said, calmly again. “Because you’re mine.”
“I don’t know what that means! Because I’m your prisoner? Your pet to play with? Because I don’t want to be any of those things.” I spat out, angry and ashamed by the tumult of emotions in my chest. But as the last sentence left my mouth, the mark on my thumb burned like it had been stabbed by a hot poker.
“I told you Nettle, you cannot lie to me. You can lie to everyone else including yourself, but not to me.” She picked up my thumb and planted a kiss on it. I pulled my hand back and turned. Pacing to the other side of the room, relishing the lack of leash in that moment. Perhaps she knew that I couldn’t bear that in my fragile state, perhaps she cared, or perhaps she didn’t want me dipping into madness before telling her what I knew.
“I don’t understand. Why don’t you hate me? I came here to kill you. I want to kill you.” Another flare. “I need to kill you.” I amended, but the mark was still.
