The Hidden Crystal

Chapter 28

It was only the frantic prodding of the fairies that roused Iris the next morning. She opened her heavy eyelids as they pulled her into a sitting position, moaning at the waves of burning pain shooting through her body. She would have fallen back against the mattress if they hadn't caught her. They pushed and pulled her out of bed, half-carrying her to the dressing screen and a bath full of lukewarm water, where they undressed her, washed her, dried her, and dressed her again. She was too weak to either protest or help.

The door flew open just as they finished.

"Good morning, Iris." Micah cast her an appraising glance as he walked into the room, his voice light and pleasant. He took a seat on the sofa and patted the cushion beside him. "Bring her here. I'll have my breakfast with her today."

The fairies had no choice. Iris knew that. They were in less of a rush, though, careful to jostle her as little as possible while they escorted her to the sofa and set her next to the monster who had them all dancing to his tune. A few flitted around to her back to ease her against the cushions while the rest zipped out of the room. The ones that stayed huddled against her thigh opposite from Micah. Hiding.

"Is this what you were like when you woke up last time?"

She couldn't even turn her head to look at him as she answered in a hoarse, raspy voice. "No."

"Hm. Likely due to the timing. When did you wake up then?"

"Morning."

She heard something scratching across paper. A pencil or quill, she realized. He was documenting his findings, studying her like he'd studied all his previous test subjects, monitoring the aftereffects of an experiment. Because that was all she was to him.

"I'll have to do something about your screaming. I already take precautions to protect my hearing, of course, but it still gets tiresome, and if your friend Char were to visit before your voice had time to recover, things could get ...complicated."

Tiresome. Her screaming was tiresome. Never mind the reason she was screaming, the intense pain that still lingered in her body whenever she tried to move.

"How did you feel last time when you woke up?"

"Stiff, sore, achy."

"And now?"

The latch clicked in the door. She lifted her head a fraction of an inch to look at the fairies zooming into the room with trays of food, and the simple motion sent fire through her neck, making her whimper.

"Pain on movement," he muttered.

The fairies brought her a tray, propping it up on little wooden legs over her lap, but they hovered in front of Micah with his, afraid to get closer.

"Well?" he demanded.

They darted in, setting the tray up in haste and zipping away as fast as they could to join the rest, hiding on Iris' other side.

He chuckled. "My, they have become fond of you."

"I don't hurt them."

"And you have offered to take their punishment. There is the matter of that book."

Punishment? What more punishment did she need? Everything he'd done to her was punishment. He'd destroyed that book, made her tolerate his advances, tortured her—wasn't that enough?

A fairy lifted a hot cup of tea to her lips. More came up behind her head, helping her tilt it back so the soothing liquid could flow down her throat.

She hated this.