Away with the Faeries

Chapter Twenty-three

 Heart racing against my chest I fled from the washroom. No one questioned the soiled dress or bloodied water. I was instead met by sympathetic eyes. I'd rather they believe it was my own blood rather than the prisoners they had locked in the rank bowels of their castle. Frantically making my way from the bustling servant's hall, mind clouded with thoughts I barely noticed the satyr who exited a door ahead of me. Before I had time to register what was happening I was stumbling into the poor servant, both of us tumbling to the hard ground.

"I am so sorry," I stressed, quickly helping to clean up the broken contents of the tray that had scattered during the fall; "I don't know where my head is at."

After all the shattered pieces of the once pretty porcelain tea cups had been collected and placed back onto the silver tray we stood. His bright eyes flashed a moment over mine before he turned, carrying about on his way as if nothing had happened. Watching him walk off my eyes fell to the broken tea cups, remembering what a certain princess had asked of me.

"Princess Jinny wishes to have tea in the garden," I called after him. He froze, caught on an invisible wire at my words. Slowly he turned, bright eyes meeting mine again. "Are you the right person to be asking of this?"

He bowed his head slightly, eyes never flicking from my own; "I am Lady Rayne."

A chill crept across my skin as I watched him leave. I don't remember having given him my name. As sweet as Jinny seemed I had been careful not to tell her my name. I don't think even the Bloed King knew as much. My brows dipped in a slight frown as I dug restless hands into the pockets of my gown, beginning once again down the corridor. With a sharp inhale I felt my fingers graze a piece of parchment that hadn't been there before.

Slinking back along the cool shadows of the wall I slipped the paper from my pocket. Ears listening to the far-off bustling and chatter of servants. None that were close. With quick touches I unfolded it, eyes darting across the smudged ink as if it had been hastily written. Dear Lady Rayne, I am Leary Wilts, I have been sent from the Kingdom of Anima. This is dangerous territory, we must leave at once. Meet me at the west garden gate tonight. I will inform you more later. Burn this note once you've read it.

———

Marble-sculpted statues decorated the refined indoor garden that spilled full of wild flora. Overgrowing brush tickled my bare ankles as I sat nonchalantly across from Jinny who was speaking of some ancient game the Kingdom prepared for. But I could barely hear her words, as a sinking feeling crept its way into my gut.

"They host one only once every quarter-century," Jinny rambled on about some festivals and friends from neighboring courts, "This will be my first time in attendance. I have no idea what to expect, but I've heard they are always grander than before. Even the Ignis Royals will be in attendance!" She clapped, a warm glow to her cheeks as she went on lazily about the growing buzz within the palace walls.

Both our enemies are in the same place. Now there was something. Something useful at least, I glanced at Lana where she sulked in a bowl at the center of the table, one that was once full of sugar cubes. Stressfully she ate away at the remaining ones. Leary's note lay tucked safely away in my pocket, but I felt at any moment it might burn a hole through the layers of my skirt and fall to the ground for anyone to see. I swiped a sugar cube from Lana's protesting hands plopping it in my mouth to keep from gnawing nervously at my lip.

I didn't know what the Anima Kingdom wanted from me. To save me from Bloed only so they could sink their claws into me next? I shivered. I was really starting to wish they'd leave me the hell alone. Anima could send as many spies as they wanted. I wasn't going anywhere without Marcel, of that I was certain. Sunlight poured down on us from the misty glass above as we lightly chatted, grazing at the fancy pastries.

Soon a satyr pounced up to us, balancing a rattling tray of teacups and a single ornate teapot. Spindly fingers of bright flowers lay painted up its smooth face. This King really had a thing for flowers. Jinny smiled brightly at the servant as she placed the full cups before us, leaving the teapot in the center. She gave us a small bow before making a quick exit.

"What happened to your Nuea," Jinny asked, curiously peering over at Lana from the lip of her dainty teacup. She took a sip.

Relieved to finally have a change of conversation a small smile rested against my lips; "Anima broke her," I answered, lifting my own rattling cup and bringing it to my lips. The amber liquid tasted of acrid honey and roasted almonds as it slid heavily down my throat. Face contorting in a cringe I set the cup down before deciding to stick to the platter of rosy truffles.

"I am broken," Lana agreed somberly, reaching for the bowl's last sugar cube. She paused, hand on the grainy object that was as big as her face, "Do you smell that?" She peered over the lip of the bowl to where I had discarded my cup.

I couldn't smell anything but the overwhelming perfume of flora we sat in. Jinny eyed the small Nuea curiously, nose scrunched as she sniffed around in the air. Then like a wave it hit me at once, and the room began to spin. Colorful walls of flowers warping, checkered tile floors twisting into whorls. My heart beat rapidly against my throat as I clung to the edge of the table, gaging for breath. Someone was calling my name, I think. All I could seem to hear was my own heart, rushing against my ears.

Clinging to the fabric of my skirt I doubled over in the chair, heaving all the contents of my stomach onto the floor. Someone cried out. Was it me? I wasn't sure. My body trembled as I collapsed to the ground, shaking in a thin layer of sweat. My head pounded, my mouth burned, my throat swelled quickly. It felt as if I had drank molten lava. Straining for air my eyelids grew heavy, the world around me slipping away.

Everything became dark.

———

I wasn't sure when I awoke. Or where for that matter. All I knew was that I was alive, which in itself was a miracle. Straining to rise from the overgrowth of vegetation I was laying on, tenderly I held my head unsure if it was going to split open at the movement. It didn't and for that, I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the heavens. In fact, nothing hurt. I stood, twisting, stretching, rubbing gentle fingers across the curve of my throat just to be sure. I sighed in relief.

Never again am I drinking tea; the thought alone made my stomach churn. Never. Again. Curiously I glanced about the empty space I had awoken in, it seemed to be an extension of the grand indoor gardens. But the thick shrubbery and vines that crept along the walls felt... wrong.

They were wrong in the way they seemed familiar. Dark thorns and flora protruding from thick stalks reminded me of that time in the icy woodlands with Marcel. Maybe Marcel was right, maybe I was cursed. Gaining my footing through the dark vines I stumbled over to what appeared to be a door. Grasping the cool bronze handle I threw all my weight into the barricaded wood. A lame attempt really. The thick stalks and heavy undergrowth overpowered my restless attempts to break through.

I don't know how long had passed since I woke in this room. It felt like hours. Huffing I rammed my shoulder once more into the submersed door, wincing as my bruised arm made hard contact with the unmoving surface. What had Isaac Newton said about laws or whatever? I had to have been doing something to the door. Tenderly I rubbed my arm, it was definitely doing something to me. Grinding my jaw I kicked at the door again, spewing a string of profanities as I stubbed my toe on the unyielding vines. Isaac Newton be damned.

"What are you made of," I shouted to the strange plants, eyes wide. Slumping to the floor a defeated sigh escaped my lips. I was most certainly cursed. "Help," I screamed pathetically once more.

Unsure of what else to do I mindlessly picked at the curious foliage that spewed like dark water from beneath the snaking vines. I was going to die here in this miserable garden confined by creepy plants. But after what felt like an eternity of silence there was a faint shuffling followed by hushed whispers beyond the dark threshold.

"Who is in there?"