Beautiful nightmares, p.46
Beautiful Nightmares, page 46
Emma finally let me go after the door closed behind him. Though I wanted nothing more than to stay here and revel in being home, I needed to explain everything to my family and find the goblin ring hidden in my room. After that inevitably long conversation was over, Gil and Lyari would still be waiting outside. There was also one more person I needed to see once my new friend was settled at Adam’s.
“Is Cyrus home?” I made myself ask.
Understanding flashed in Emma’s eyes. She knows, then, I thought. Shame scraped my heart like a tattered fingernail. My hero was aware of what had happened just before Belanor took me. She’d learned that I had taken advantage of Cyrus’s kind heart and asked him to do the unthinkable. It probably meant the rest of my family knew, as well.
But Emma didn’t try to broach the topic. “He’s at Bea’s, I think,” was all she said.
I’d figured—his truck wasn’t in the driveway—but that hadn’t stopped me from hoping. I owed my friend one hell of an apology.
That apology would have to come later, though. First I needed to focus on the goblin ring and telling the people I loved about Belanor, though every instinct in my body fought against recounting what he’d done. Maybe this could wait until tomorrow…
Mom’s voice floated through my memory like a gentle admonishment. No time like the present.
“Will you gather everyone together?” I asked Emma, hiding how my insides quaked. “There’s something we need to talk about. All of us.”
Her brows rose with obvious curiosity, but she just nodded. Giving her a tight smile of gratitude, I turned and went into the bedroom I’d been sharing with Collith. At the threshold, I didn’t pause or hesitate. That would allow the emotions to sink their claws in, and I couldn’t be bleeding out while I stood in front of the others. I didn’t even look toward the section of wall that had been repaired and painted.
The ring was where I’d left it. I steeled myself and slid the ugly piece of jewelry onto my middle finger. The spell on it must’ve been comparable to a glamour, because my features didn’t physically shift or change. When I looked at the mirror, though, a stranger looked back. Her features were nondescript. I studied her and could’ve sworn I heard a voice whisper through my head. Don’t notice me. Don’t see me.
This could actually work. I removed the ring and clutched it in my fist, trying not to think about Gil’s taunt. I’ll be here when you’re finished telling your family what horrible danger you’ve put them in.
Emma, Damon, and Finn were waiting in the living room, along with Lyari, I noted silently. She must’ve been listening from outside and deemed it safe to join us. I clasped my hands in front of me in case they started shaking. Matthew must’ve been put in his crib for the night, because a baby monitor glowed on the coffee table.
“Are you sure you don’t want to get that looked at before we begin?” Emma asked, gesturing toward the marks on my shoulder.
I let out a short, anxious breath and shook my head. “Later. I’m not sure what Laurie has told all of you, but knowing him, it probably wasn’t much. So I’ll start with my first day at the Seelie Court.”
I went on to tell them everything. Well, almost everything. I didn’t give specifics on the tortures Belanor had inflicted upon me—in fact, I avoided saying his name as much as possible, because names held power for faeries. Especially ones that could sift, as Belanor probably could. I also didn’t talk about the spell I’d performed myself, to survive Gil’s transition into a newborn vampire. But my family learned of the spell Belanor was attempting, and what he’d done to Gil, and how he’d pitted me and Finn against each other. I ended my tale with a swift summary of my battle with the prince outside the palace.
“I’m not sure if His Highness will ever recover, but he did once before,” I concluded. “It’s possible he could come looking for me. The last thing I want is to put you all in danger, so if you don’t like this idea, I understand.”
“You’re sure this ring works?” Lyari asked.
“You tell me.” The clunky piece of jewelry was still clutched in my fingers, and I watched their faces closely as I put it back on. Emma and Damon both jumped. The corners of Lyari’s mouth deepened, and she inclined her head as if she were impressed. I raised my eyebrows. “Do you think this will work? Is it enough to fool the prince, if he does wake up and search for me?”
For a moment, no one responded. Emma was the first to move. She pushed herself up, her bones audibly creaking, and closed the distance between us. She grasped my elbows in her palms and smiled up at me.
“The way I see it, we have two choices,” she said. “Either you use the ring, and we take the risk by staying, or all of us go. I’ll tell you what isn’t an option, though—you’re not leaving again. Not alone.”
Tears sprang to my eyes and Emma’s wrinkled face blurred. Blinking them back, I glanced behind her, wondering if everyone else agreed. Damon gave me a single nod. Lyari and Finn were stoic, but the steadiness of the werewolf’s gaze spoke volumes. I knew that if my Right Hand had anything to say, she would have. This silence was her way of offering support.
I cleared my throat and squeezed Emma’s arms before stepping back. It occurred to me that I hadn’t told them about the Rat King, or what Laurie and I had done at the Unseelie Court, but Gil was still waiting outside and I felt like a rag that had been wrung dry. “Well, then. I guess that settles it,” I said wearily. “If Belanor did survive, he’ll probably send spies to watch the house. We need to be careful. Avoid using my name or talking about the fact that I’m back. Emma, can I talk to you in the kitchen? Privately?”
“Of course.” The old woman followed me, and with that, our meeting came to an end. Damon went into his room to check on Matthew while Lyari began to fiddle with the TV remote, frowning. I resisted looking toward the big bed awaiting me, visible through the open door. Soon, I promised myself.
Once we reached the kitchen, I faced Emma again. It was futile to lower my voice, but I did anyway. “Lyari will be staying with us for a while. If she tries to leave, don’t let her. It’s just her pride.”
“Sounds like someone else I know. Are you heading into town with your friend? Gilbert, you said his name was?”
“I think he prefers Gil. But yes, I shouldn’t be gone long.”
“Before you do that, you may want to poke your head in there.” Emma pointed her thumb toward the end of the hall. I gave her a curious look of my own, but she didn’t offer an explanation. As I walked away I heard her tell Finn, “We seem to be running out of available beds. Maybe you and I should move back to the house, for the time being.”
He made a huffing sound that expressed how he felt about separating from me, but I was too distracted to feel any warmth or amusement. Running out of beds? I thought with a frown. The couch was a pullout, which meant we should’ve had enough. Maybe Emma didn’t know. I made a mental note to tell her once I’d investigated whatever it was she wanted me to see.
The door at the end of the hall was slightly ajar. Thinking there would be no one on the other side, I pushed it open. I realized my mistake immediately, and a jolt of surprise went through my frame.
Nym stood near the window.
He looked drastically different from the last time I’d visited him. More… put together, although the clothes he wore were clearly Damon’s. His shoulder-length hair had been recently washed and combed. I glanced at those pointed ears and thought of his fae hearing. He must’ve been listening to everything we’d discussed in the living room. If Nym felt anything about my return, though, or the potential threat Belanor represented, he didn’t show it. The faerie’s nose was pressed to the glass, both of his hands flattened against it.
I started to wonder what he was doing here, and a memory filled my head before the thought had fully formed. Nym… would you like to come live with me?
Truth be told, I’d forgotten about the offer I made that night. I had just killed everyone at the black market and confronted Collith about his dark secret, so my state of mind hadn’t exactly been clear or stable.
The same could be said for Nym, yet he clearly hadn’t forgotten our conversation. In the brief time he’d been here, the faerie had made this space his own. The walls were covered in artwork, pages and pages, the top edge of every paper jagged from where it had been ripped from a sketchbook. Looking at the images, I remembered that Collith had once spoken of Nym drawing me.
The question was, why was he still doing it?
Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to see my real face—or whatever face he saw when he looked at me—I took off the ring and put it in my pocket. A quake of trepidation went through me as I started forward. The faerie didn’t move or say a word at the sound of my approach. Once I was close enough I said softly, “Hi, Nym.”
Even now, he didn’t turn or meet my gaze. “My lady. Everyone has been so worried about you,” he murmured.
I studied Nym’s profile. He stared at the darkened trees with an expression of intense thought. His face was tinted with yellow light, along with the rest of the room. It was deceptive, because it made everything seem serene.
I pulled out of my thoughts, realizing that Nym was trying to say something. His mouth moved, but the words were so quiet I couldn’t hear. Still fighting a sense of unease, I tucked my hair behind my ear and leaned closer.
“…can do it,” Nym was whispering. “I can do it. I can do it.”
Without warning, he whirled to face me. I couldn’t help but take a step back. Nym’s palm became a fist against the window, and his gaze was so heated that it burned holes in me. My heart pounded.
“What’s the point of having wings if I can’t fly?” the faerie demanded, veins standing out in his pale forehead.
I held onto my guise of neutrality, every word I uttered slow and deliberate. “I don’t know, Nym.”
Something about this made the faerie blink. Maybe it was hearing his name out loud and being reminded of who he was. His palm was still fused to the window, and, slowly, Nym’s attention slid away from me and back to the unreachable beyond. “My wings are beautiful, aren’t they?” he murmured.
As if to taunt him, a black bird swooped into view, casting a shadow over us. I tracked it with my eyes for a moment, biting my lip against a pang of sympathy. What a special torment it was, to carry the marks of wings on your body for all eternity. To remember what it had felt like to have them.
“Yes, they are, Nym. Very beautiful,” I said softly.
Once again, my response seemed to calm him, and I watched Nym’s wild eyes go dull with sorrow. His voice was childlike again as he asked, “What do they look like?”
For a moment I considered telling him the awful truth—that he had no wings. That he was nothing but a scrambled shadow of a person. But I couldn’t do it. If we didn’t have hope, what else was there?
Instead, I offered him the pretty lies he yearned for. “They look like light. Such strong, pure light. I’ve never seen its equal before, so nothing can compare.”
I stopped, holding my breath. Nym didn’t react. Had I gone too far? For a moment, I worried I should’ve described the human cliché for wings, frilly-looking adornments of white feathers and a bird-like shape… but then Nym smiled, a dreamy curve of the lips. As if it was a gift, what I had given him. Such a small thing; I’d simply fed his illusion. If I were in his place, was that what I would’ve wanted?
Making a mental note to speak with the rest of my family about Nym, because they should’ve gotten a vote before I made an unpredictable faerie our new roommate, I went back to the door. I opened it just as his voice sounded behind me.
“Queen Fortuna?”
With one hand on the doorknob, I glanced over my shoulder. Nym hadn’t moved from his place beside the window, and at this angle, this moment, he looked like a painting or a story brought to life. Strands of his hair caught the dying light. “Yes?”
His tone became flawlessly polite. A courtier’s way of speaking, especially the older ones. “May I trouble you for a clock?”
The request sent a swirl of worry through me, like leaves disturbed by a gust of wind. I remembered his rooms from the Unseelie Court. All those clocks broken and shattered. The ticking forever silenced, as if Nym had been desperate to make time stop. Out loud I said, “It’s no trouble at all. I’ll pick one when the stores are open.”
He dipped his head. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“You can just call me Fortuna, you know,” I remarked.
Nym just turned away, as if he hadn’t heard me at all. It was obvious from his slack expression that his mind had gone to another place again. No doubt it was a memory from his long, extraordinary life, images and events that spanned back to the beginning of time. Seeing the awed haze in Nym’s eyes, I almost envied his ability to escape into such a whimsical world.
A time when people had wings and could lift into the sky without a second thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
I arrived at the dreamscape in the midst of a snowstorm.
Wind and cold battered at the makeshift walls. I pushed myself up slowly, scanning the glowing space for Oliver. He knelt beside the tent flaps, peering out at the squall. A howling, frigid gust stirred locks of his golden hair and made one half of his face white as the snow blowing past.
“Welcome back,” Oliver said, sparing me a glance. Even that brief look betrayed the worry in his eyes.
I smiled, thinking of how relieved he’d be to hear that I was finally home. “Good to be back. Should we—”
“What is that?” Oliver asked, his voice sharp.
His blue eyes had gone to my shoulder. Looking down, I realized my wound was slightly peeking out from the unbuttoned collar of my shirt. Strange that it had come into the dreamscape with me. The marks were already beginning to scab over, and I felt nothing as I tugged my shirt to cover them. “Oh, this? Just a parting gift from the new Unseelie Queen.”
“A parting gift?” Oliver echoed, raising his eyebrows.
In response, I left the warmth of the nest we’d made and started putting clothes into my backpack. As I rolled my sleeping bag up, I talked about everything that had transpired since last night. My bizarre conversation with Viessa, breaking Collith out, reuniting with my family. I still didn’t mention what Laurie and I had done.
And Oliver, though he must’ve felt some of it while it was happening, didn’t ask.
This time, my telling only took a minute or so, and it felt like the first time I had a semi-optimistic ending. I’d gotten so used to hardship and grief that the words tasted like a lie in my mouth. But they were the truth—besides the conversation I still needed to have with Cyrus, all was well in the real world. Adam had taken in Gil without hesitation. Damon had forgiven me, and he was actually happy.
It was a strange feeling, knowing that everyone I loved was safe. For now, at least. If Belanor ever woke up, I had to be ready.
Just as I had been with my family, I was honest with Oliver about the potential danger. He didn’t ask any questions, and the worry in his eyes had only gotten brighter. I knew if Oliver wanted to talk about it, he would. But I didn’t need to ask what he was so concerned about—me. It was always me, no matter how strained things might be between us now. Quiet filled the tent, and my mind wandered as we continued preparations for the next part of our journey.
“Lightsabers,” I said suddenly, raising my head in a burst of excitement.
Oliver rubbed his eye, and his jaw flexed as if he were on the verge of a yawn. “What?”
I didn’t answer; I was too busy staring at him. Realizing there might be another reason for his silence. In all the years we’d known each other, I couldn’t recall ever seeing Oliver like this. Drained. Lined. Exhausted. What if… what if there had been other changes, other consequences to the shifts in the dreamscape? For as long as he’d existed, Oliver had never needed to sleep. But seeing him now, I suspected it was another way he was being affected by the fluctuating rules of this place. Why hadn’t he slept while I was gone?
The answer came to me instantly—because Oliver had been entirely alone in the tent, and thanks to me, monsters roamed these lands. If he’d allowed himself to fall asleep, there would’ve been no one to keep watch. No one to protect him while he was vulnerable.
Guilt struck my heart like a mallet to a cymbal. I was starting to get used to the terrible feeling, though, and I made sure Oliver didn’t see any outward signs of it.
Realizing that I still hadn’t responded to him, I cleared my throat. “Why haven’t we ever used lightsabers? They’d probably be way more efficient than swords or guns.”
Oliver considered this. He drew the zipper across the top of his bag. “Do you know how long it would take me to make that? The more detailed the object, the more time I have to spend on it.”
“Fine, party pooper. It was just an idea.” I turned away, muttering under my breath, “A really good one.”
Oliver shook his head, but he couldn’t quite hide the grin tugging at his mouth. Feeling lighter, I finished tying the laces on my boots. Oliver stepped outside, and after one more glance around, I followed him.
Snow and wind blew into my face, surprisingly vicious. I tugged and adjusted my scarf until only my eyes were exposed. Oliver did the same. We made short work of disassembling our small shelter, no easy feat when one was wearing thick gloves. Less than five minutes later, the two of us put our backpacks on again, now laden with pieces of the tent. In unspoken agreement, we put our heads down and plunged into the storm.
With the wind moaning past our ears, attempting a conversation would be pointless. Unfortunately, there was also nothing much in the way of a view. I was forced to watch my feet and count each step to keep my thoughts from running rampant. Every now and then, I looked up to see how much distance we’d covered. It was always much less than I expected.
