Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 151630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 758(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 758(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
“For fuck’s sake,” Dev says.
“Rhys Donovan-Quinn, you let that girl go right now,” the queen shouts.
Cassie twirls the machete in her hand. “You want me to use this on the vine or his ass?”
“Like you can touch me with that, Cassie.” Rhys looks so beautiful and arrogant astride that horse. He looks every bit the young Fae royal, and he will have his will done.
And there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m trapped, and if Cassie cuts the vine, he’ll simply call another one forth. I’ve seen him play with his brother this way. When Lee was human and causing trouble, every now and then Rhys would wrap him up in vines and then the obedient vine would lift Lee up and place him wherever Rhys wanted. This time I’m sure I’ll be bundled on the back of his horse and forced to go wherever Rhys wants me.
I feel small. So small.
There are no dead to talk to, and it wouldn’t help me if there were. What would a dead Fae do to help me? I have no control over the plants of the ground. That is the kingdom of life. The kingdom of spring.
But is it? a voice whispers. A deep voice. One that I recognize. Matilda is talking in my head. There is no spring without winter. No green fields without the cycle. Birth and life and death and decay. That vine wrapped so tightly around you glows with life because its brethren died the year before and sent its lifeforce forward. Ask it. Touch it with your mind and ask if it will take the journey a little early.
“She is mine to take care of, and I will decide what is best. She knows nothing of Faery, nothing of how dangerous it can be,” Rhys is saying as he argues with his parents.
I can sense the hounds are oddly calm. Like they know something I don’t. Fluffy actually takes this moment to roll on his back and do that wiggly thing dogs do. I have to wonder if Matilda is talking to them, too.
Cassie is telling Rhys she can wait. He’s got to sleep sometime.
I feel the vine begin to lift me.
Ask it, Pair Dadeni, the voice whispers. Touch it with your mind. Life and death flows through you. Let it flow. Let your unique magic connect you to all creatures.
I feel my feet lift but my mind is somewhere else. Someplace deep inside me. I can feel it. I can feel the life in this vine like a heartbeat. It pulses with life. It has no sentience, but there is something deep inside, something all living things have.
History. It grows and dies. Grows and dies. It soaks up the sun and then decays in the earth, but it knows that is the only way it lives again. Like a human. Reborn again and again. If it dies now, it will return in another form, nothing lost.
Do you mind? I ask, putting the question in my hands, my skin, wherever we touch.
I do not get an answer back. Not in words. But suddenly the vine withers and dies, and I drop to the grass.
“What the hell?” Dev asks.
“Whoa.” Cassie looks down at the desiccating vine.
The hounds get up like they know I’m done playing and it’s time to go.
What did I do? Did I do that? Or the weird voice in my head?
Go to the palace, Shahidi, the voice whispers. Meet the goddess there and see if you can get Spring under control. When the time is right, you’ll go to the mountains and you’ll see how much power you have.
“Matilda?” I ask the question aloud, though I know no one else heard the whispers.
Tell the high priest to play his part to the hilt. And yes, you released that bit of green to begin again. It didn’t mind. It was happy to help. Let my hounds take care of you. And perhaps one day, you’ll forgive me. There was no other way. When the time comes, call for him.
And then she’s gone. I can tell she’s gone.
I get the feeling that might have been our last communication.
“How did you do that?” Rhys has dismounted and stands over the thick, now dying vine.
I ignore him for a moment and kneel, touching the vine, sending my grateful energy through it. It’s not something I’ve done before, but then we’re in foreign territory. When I stand, I try to be calm. It looks like we have work to do at the palace. “Matilda wants us to go to the palace.”
“Should we be worried this crone person can speak to Shy in her head?” Neil is still au natural, but he’s calmer now that his daughter isn’t playing Sam to my Frodo.
Yet.
“I can talk to the dead,” I point out. “She’s from a land of the dead.”