Nada's Escape

76- Dethral.

"I take it you haven't talked to Penny yet?" I ask Macie, setting aside an orange pair of flats with weird leather straps.

"Just Liza," she sighs, playing a hand through her brown hair. She walks along the lines of shoes I've set up, perusing the selection. I know Percival's already picked out an 'appropriate' gala ensemble for her, but from Macie's wistful look I gather that wishes she could have picked her own.

"I thought about fighting fire with fire..." I trail through the words like someone lost in the woods. Macie nods morosely. So she's thought about enthralling Penny too. I fidget, trying to focus my eyes on the many small movements of the tree in the front yard.

"But maybe two firefighters are better than one," I continue, letting the strange metaphor fall flat from my lips. "Me and Finley, I mean."

Macie's quick and I notice her eyes graze over me to make sure I'm serious. I watch her just as closely but from the corner of my eye. She sighs unconsciously. Closes her eyes to block me out of her vision.

"Fine," she whispers, though it's evidently not fine. We could make it worse. It might not work. Maybe our assumptions are wrong and I'll end up like Penny.

I carry that thought with me like a squawking black bird as we explain the battle bond to Finley. Too many of us gather in my living room, Macie and Amy behind Penny like guard bees. I sense that the responsibility for being a part of this decision is weighing on them both so I don't protest their transparent filler conversation.

Finley sits beside me on the two-seater, trying more than succeeding to look relaxed. We're all anxious, all in need of a miracle. Like a great glob of mucus, I swallow my pride and whisper to Finley under Amy's questions about Henry.

"If this doesn't work and I end up enthralled, promise me you'll still go through with the plan." In order to have the courage to try this I need to know that even without me the others will escape.

Finley fidgets, as if my breath on his cheek makes him uncomfortable. "I would never- That won't happen." The huskiness of his voice surprises me. Even in the silence between sentences the certainty of his resolve hangs in the air. He clears his throat.

"... but I promise." I want to check his eyes, to weigh the seriousness of his response. But I don't know if that's okay, even with the new theories about our bond. I think I can tell anyway from the tightening of his lower lip and the splay of his hands.

I nod, "You ready?" I replay Finley's explanation of enthralment, though it makes me squirm.

"You have to know what you want, visualise it as your will. And then you meet their eyes and hold your will solid, even as you look. That's the hardest part, to still be you whilst really looking at someone else. You have to have no pity because pity stops at the skin. You have to look further than that to enthral someone, and yet still be yourself."

My mind had grasped this with surprising quickness, rolled it over and turned it back on itself.

"So we want to visualise Penny's will instead then.... Find it below the bonds of enthralment and draw it out to the surface."

"Exactly. Try to leave every other thought, your own worries and needs to the side."

I suck in a bolstering breath, trying to banish my doubts. That's easier to say than accomplish when you've spent three years fighting for the right to harbour those doubts. Finley holds out his hand and I take it, clenching tightly around it, praying against any mysterious feelings. Amy and Macie have sensed we're ready and fall silent.

I try to imagine Penny's will resting deep inside her, like a bird hiding from the storm. She turns to me without prompting and I try to focus, I really do.

There's something pitiful there, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in consternation. I get distracted by this, losing track of the bird image, hiding somewhere behind the wretched façade of her pale face. She's worries about why she's here. Because we're all worried and we won't tell her anything. I think Henry asked her not to come so she's most worried about that.

I sigh. This isn't working. Finley squeezes my hand.

"Let me try," he breathes. I nod subtly, setting my mind back to imagining Penny's will, not my own.

"It's alright Penny." Finley begins soft and slow, like you'd speak to a wounded animal. Penny's gaze shifts obediently to meet Finley's.

"Nada and I are going to help you, if you'll let us." Penny's face smooths to a preternatural mask of herself, eyes deadening to the blank stare of a doll. I've seen this look a hundred times before but still it chills me. No one should look like that.

I tighten my hand on Finley's, nothing comfortable left between our fingers. There's got to be something beyond Penny's façade. Does she want to be freed from this? What does that Penny look like? Maybe it's not a storm keeping her trapped but layers and layers of suffocating blankets...

Penny's gaze slides to me and she blinks. "Are you okay?" Attention broken; I blink back at her.

"Yeah, yeah," I smile, trying to ignore the single frown line between Penny eyebrows. Why did I think I would be able to do this? Finley and I withdraw our hands, twin apologetic looks turned on Amy and Macie. We can't do this.

Amy bolts away from the wall and rests her hand on my knee. As she uses that to lower herself to sit at my feet she flashes me a stern look that tells me to let it go. I rest my hands on her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

A new kind of trepidation swallows the last one. Now we have to tell Penny about the escape and hope she takes it well. I let Macie, the word smith, take the lead on this. She leans against the arm of Penny's chair, face turned up toward her like a flower to sunlight.

Finley leans closer to me, splitting my focus between the two conversations like a radio sliding between two stations. Macie begins explaining the escape to Penny, hoping she'll agree. Finley's voice is closer but secretive, introducing uncertainty I don't need into my chest.

"Enthralment can take practise. This can't be any different. We've barely scratched the surface with this battle bond."

What he says might be real but it means the next best thing might be enthralling Penny, and I definitely am not up for that type of decision. Especially after the endless minutes of moralising and discussion that went into this single attempt.

I tune back into Macie's explanations without answering.

"Like a holiday?" asks Penny, the soft edge of a smile touching her lips.

"Yeah," Macie nods, "Except forever probably." I skim my fingers along the outer strands of Amy's hair, listening.

The corner of Penny's lip turns down as she argues, monotone, "We'd come back though, I'd see Henry."

"No, honey, we wouldn't be back. You'll probably never see Henry again." Macie tries to soften her words with a touch on Penny's arm.

"But I could. Take him with me, or he could come visit me," Penny says as tears start to fall, giant salty beads sliding down her cheeks without warning. Crocodile tears my mother would have called them.

"Oh honey... maybe," Macie consoles, though maybe means no. "But honey the Huntsmen won't just let us leave. They won't be happy about it."

"But everyone gets holidays..."

"It would be a secret holiday, " I jump in before the cycle starts again. "You can't tell anyone or it wouldn't be a surprise."

"Not even Henry," Macie takes over again. Penny's lip wobbles pathetically as Macie brushes her tears away.

Penny nods, "Surprise holiday."

This is okay, I realise. Penny cannot grasp that we're asking her to leave Henry for good, but she likes the idea of a holiday. Some part of her that's not enthralled has lit up at Macie's explanation of escape and is shining through, momentarily pushing aside her Henry obsession in pursuit of a 'holiday'. This is okay. We can deal with what comes after, perhaps even try dethralling her again, as long as we can get her away from the Huntsmen first.