Away with the Faeries

Chapter Twenty-seven

 Days passed with no new attempt on my life. With each rise and set of the sun, a sickening pit seemed to grow within me. My small bed chambers grew to feel like an enclosure. A last when I lie awake on my bed, heart drumming against my chest as the narrow walls seemed to close in around me I made the journey I had been dreading. Into the dungeons. Only to get away from the shrinking walls and invisible vines. At least that was what I told myself.

I don't know what I had been expecting. For Marcel to magically reappear? He didn't. The cell sat bare and empty, floors stained red. I made that visit days ago and hadn't dared to go back since. Jinny became quick to insist I share her room, conjuring some lie about the bed being too big. I didn't question it. Nor did I when she swiped a short dagger from her brother's room, requesting I kept it safe for her.

I sat now on a stool in the maid's quarters waiting for Leary, taking small comfort in the way the dagger rubbed against my thigh. Maids scurried about me, gossiping away as they prepared for the day. Most were satyrs', their hooves clicked rapidly against stone as they shuffled about. They seemed to compose the lower class. I shifted on the stool suddenly all too uncomfortable.

Fidgeting about I watched as a thin maid trotted up to me. Her delicate features laid set in fine wrinkles from over the years. Lips pulled thin she gazed at me through slanted eyes. Setting my jaw I felt my chest strain unsteadily beneath my tight corset. Was she another assassin?

"Mr. Wilts will be here momentarily," she said before turning heel and rounding up the other maids.

I felt like I sat in the midst of a beehive. Everyone was busily scattered, quick to fulfill the tasks they'd been assigned. It must have been the games Jinny spoke of.

As the room cleared Leary stumbled in, brushing messy locks from his face his eyes fell on me. "Lady Rayne," he smiled making his way towards me.

Standing I met the satyr halfway; "What am I," I demanded. I knew I wasn't human. I couldn't possibly be. Humans can't live through what I have, they can't sprout vines and rise from the dead; it's impossible. I was meant to be dead, yet here I was, alive. It wasn't right, and it sure as hell wasn't human.

Leary's face fell, his eyes contemplating; "I don't know," he sighed.

My hands balled into fists, my jaw twitching; "You're an Anima spy," I cut, "If anyone should know, it's you!"

His eyes flew wide at my words, dancing worriedly along the walls, afraid that someone might have overheard; "I swear to you," he whispered, "I don't. All I was told is that I was to safely retrieve you and bring you back to the High Council of Anima."

Pinching the bridge of my nose I sighed. He was the same as Lana, completely in the dark. Brushing past Leary I made my way from the servant's quarters. Moving down the hall a grin melted my face as I caught sight of Lana. Cautiously she poked her head out from the corner ahead of me.

"Coast is clear," I laughed.

Lana fell back behind the corner before reappearing with a sealed envelope. Proudly she flitted up to me, dropping the letter in my hands before resting with an accomplished sigh on my shoulder; "A bear tried to maul me," she shivered, wrapping a lock of my hair around herself.

Stuffing the note in my corset I gave her a half-hearted laugh; "The bears got good taste."

"Damn straight!"

Rolling my eyes I bunched up my skirt, beginning down the hall once more. Lana continued on with her tale of a heroic adventure in delivering the message to King Rowan. The story grew more and more outlandish the longer we traversed the empty halls.

"Lana you did not seduce a mermaid," I snickered as we approached the oak doors to Jinny's room.

"I did too," she insisted, "don't be jealous, it's an ugly color on you."

Halting dead in my tracks a shiver seized my spine, my hand froze over the handle to Jinny's room. The quick thumping of heavy feet rushed towards me, a hooded figure catching in the corner of my eye. The color fell from my face as I stooped low, snaking a hand beneath layers of gown, wrenching free the dagger.

"Lana," I hissed as I shot up, slashing the short blade at the hideously scarred face of my assailant, "get out of here."

But before Lana could make her escape the hooded figure moved, throwing a heavy sack over my head, trapping Lana in the darkness with me. The dagger fell from my fingers as I clawed at the scratchy wool. Lana tore at the coarse material through the darkness as it was cinched tighter around my neck. Thrashing against the ground, I clawed hopelessly at the sack, choking for air. The assailant pulled the sack tighter, my body growing limp. Hands falling like bricks, uselessly to my side.

Lana had given up her fight against the thick material instead she turned on me, wrenching open my eyes that slowly drifted closed; "Come on Rayne," she pleaded, "now is not the time to pass out."

Her words sounded foggy and distant. I must be dreaming. So I closed my eyes and let my dream take me away.

———

Roaring cheers is what I awoke to hours later. Hard ice cold beneath my pounding head. Ripping the dark sack from my head I was blinded by the harsh rays of sun, my surroundings seemed to spin.

"Rayne get up," Lana begged beside me, tugging on my ear, "you're not going to like this."

I already didn't like it. With shaky hands, I pushed myself from the ground, legs wobbling as I stood. Squinting through the sun I glanced around me, my heart steadily climbing up my throat. A thin layer of snow covered the floor of the large arena I stood in; crowds flooded the stands, booing and cheering.

"Lana where the hell am I?"

"You've got worse problems than that to worry about right now," the Nuea said gazing to the opposite end of the arena where a pair of towering oak doors slowly swung open.