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“I’ll not fail you, I swear it.” I moved to stand and his arm wound around me for support. I was honored for his help, but simultaneously ashamed of needing it. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to bring you Mistress Mara’s ashes yet. I have a plan though.”
“And what is this plan?” He asked with a kindly smile, directing me toward some unknown destination in the bright dreamscape.
“Well, with your blessing I believe that I could… get close to her, earn her trust.” I felt strange saying it out loud, perhaps because I was constantly fighting the persistent draw to her already, enough so it felt like a lie. I looked down, focusing on the strength I could feel building with each step.
“Physically or emotionally?” He asked not unkindly.
“I believe she might be more open to the physical nature of things, given her magic. I don’t know if I could become emotionally close to the person who cursed and captured me. But I believe I could perhaps get close enough to her for her to drop her guard?” I looked up at him, wondering if he’d sanction the idea that I’d already technically gotten underway. Did Jessa mention that already, would he judge me harshly for it since I had been unable to communicate it to him first? Still, I felt I needed his approval, craved it so that I felt as if his contemplative silence was designed to punish my haste. Should I confess that I was not as objective as my plans wording make it seem? No, he might yet decide to make good on the message Jessa made if he did not think me contrite.
“I believe you are right Princess. You have my blessing, get as close to her as you can, however you can. So long as her ashes are in my hands before the New Moon I’m certain your curse will be broken, and our bargain fulfilled.” My hand stung for a reason I could not remember, and I shook it out wondering if it was the after-effects of whatever potion he’d used to heal me. He took my hands in both of his large palms, his eyes growing bright with what must be the physical manifestation of his blessing before he gestured in front of us at some unseen boundary.
“You must get back now, you’ll find your body is healed but you must not reveal how. I won’t be able to do this again, so take care of yourself and remember…”
“Don’t die.” I finished, ignoring the continued burning with a peaceful smile. Nodding my understanding before gathering my courage and stepping over the threshold. As the white space rushed away from me I felt a sort of settling in my chest. The doubt from my own feelings, and my experiences disappeared. Everything was as it should be.
Twenty
Iwoke to a bucket being held beneath my head, full of dark liquid. Before I had a chance to ask what it was, I began vomiting more of the substance out, shadows separating from the vile substance before wrapping around Mara’s feet.
“You should have sent for me sooner Mistress.” The Herbalist tutted again, rubbing the same soothing circles I thought I’d gotten from my God.
“Yes, I know. I did not realize she would be so deeply affected by his magic. I thought he had only had access to her for a few days or so.” She murmured, kneeling in front of me. My vision blurred at her sudden movement, or perhaps it was the shadows leaking from us both.
“What did you give to me?” I slurred, looking for the Captain. “I thought it was just something to clear my mind?” my voice sounded weak, where was the confidence I’d thought I’d felt before?
“Nettle, it is I swear. It is only blackthorn syrup, I’ve used it and other herbs in the past on Ravensford and my advisors to clear them of Drago’s blood and influence. But you’ve not stopped vomiting for hours. I didn’t expect you to have so much and it’s taking a toll on your body. If you give me permission, I can enter your mind with a Dreadling. We can siphon the rest to speed up the process.” Drago's blood? My stomach clenched with the same pain as in the vision, had it been real then too? My eyes began to close, and I started to sweat profusely.
“Nettle! Stay with me! You cannot sleep yet; I am bound by our oath. I cannot help you unless you give your permission. Please! Just let me help you!” Those words again, yet this time they made me want to cry. Why did she look so concerned? I vomited more darkness, and a bit of fear started to leak through the fog. I couldn’t die. Everything else was still murky, but I knew that much.
“I can’t die, Mistress. I made oaths. I promised I wouldn’t die.” I mutter, clutching her hands.
“I won’t let you die, Nettle. I’ll do everything I can to save you, do you agree?” She came closer, her gold eyes half filled with tears shaking me awake until I could nod my agreement, the question already half-forgotten before my eyes closed again, this time to relive some of my favorite memories, bathed in sunshine.
I was training with my masters, gambling with Celia, earning my sword, receiving my thorns, earning my slayer’s mark, my official declaration as heir swearing to avenge the curse placed on us by The Mistress, my first successful mission, my last name-day party, going in for a kiss… the sharp sting of rejection. The light faded, my joy was gone.
Now was the day of the bargain. I’d awoken to the curse in full effect, everyone had fallen mid-task. Our God had appeared and explained that he was only able to lift the effects on me for a moment. That I would fall once more unless I were to offer my dreams freely, which would leave me free to take vengeance. Bring him the Mistress’ ashes by the new moon and my people would be free, the curse lifted. He handed me the same Chalice of dark liquid we used for sacrament, promising the deal would be done once I drank. So I drank, and he vanished. Wishing me good fortune and reminding me to meet him back there on the new moon with the ashes. The memories of his visits since then blurred until my most recent, when I’d drunk again. It paused there, and again each time my mark had burned at a lie before I was sent back to the place where there was nothing but pain.
Roya was passed out across the foot of Ravensford’s bed, The Fall of the Fae clutched underneath her overly large arms. I had no memory of when she had arrived but it didn’t matter as I turned and heaved into a waiting bucket. The liquid was a mix of black and red, and as I spat out the last remaining drops, I felt my mind clearing slowly, just as they’d promised. I laughed, looking at the mixture again, it was almost pretty if in a sad way, like a wilting rose. Looking up to ask Ravensford what had happened to make me vomit, I realized he and the herbalist were both gone. Odd, when had they left? Did I imagine something of Mara being here too? I wished she were here. The thought caught me off guard. I began to go through our encounters as if for the first time to decide when I began to feel that way. At the moment I’d always felt torn by her kindness, frustrated by her lack of cruelty, but now it felt simpler, no longer tainted by…
“I’ve used it in the past on The Captain and my advisors to clear them of Drago’s blood and influence.”
“I didn’t expect you to have so much.”
My God and Drago were the same. The Chalice, the bargain. The dream, yes. But before that, years of Sacrament. Had the entire religion been a lie? Or had he snuck in later, using it as a way of bending us to his will?
“A Slayer? I thought your kind extinct.”
How long had I been asleep? Had we truly slept through the last centennial? It would fit the fact there were people from all walks of life here. Explain my lack of knowledge in a war that had apparently been going on for decades. Had Drago even been the one to wake me? My hands were burning in the vision, he had lied. He could lie and did multiple times. What else was a lie?
“I’ll do everything I can to save you, do you agree?”
She’d seen it. Everything. Knew all my secrets, knew who I was, and had not killed me. Had not cursed me again. Did that mean I was free? Did I want to be? I remembered her offer to stay, to keep the collar and be hers and claim her in return. I touched the skin of my neck, unsure of what I wanted to find. I let out a sob when I couldn’t find the silky band of shadows.
Perhaps she no longer wanted me. I had fulfilled my purpose; she knew what she needed and now I was free to leave. Hadn’t that been our original bargain? I stood, pausing in shock when I felt the weight and sway of my braid behind me once more. Grabbing the end I stared at the silver-white strands in shock. With the thorns still woven in their usual plait, I could almost pretend it had never been taken in the first place. Pretend I had not changed at all. Perhaps that’s what I would do.
I eyed the door, and then the sleeping dreadling. I had a choice to make. I could leave… maybe dive into our own archives on the curse and find another solution. The Mistress had her information, and I had no remaining reason to kill her. The proof of her involvement in my curse or being its solution now completely in question. I had another week at least before the new moon, although I had no idea if that was even significant to the curse either. From what I’d gathered Drago was no friend of humanity. Perhaps he had already sent vampires or his beast to turn or burn all that remained. My heart seized at that, my feet carrying me to the door with a burning need to check and be sure everyone was still alive. But what if they weren’t? I’d be walking right into a trap.
And then there was the second path. I could stay. I could make good on my promise in the courtyard. I could help Mara and Ravensford take down Drago. I could plead with them and the herbalist for help to solve the curse, add my numbers to theirs if they’d listen. Would they believe it had been 100 years? How could I convince an entire kingdom that their strict beliefs, their entire lifestyle, were not what they thought it was? Could they face the man they thought was their God in battle without switching sides or believing themselves doomed? I swayed, dizzy again. Walking back to the bed I sat on the edge pondering. What was I meant to do?
