| |
Eddie placed a hand over his racing heart, willing it to calm. Not even a fight with a monster got it going like this. Belle had only to smile or sigh or just turn those hazel eyes on him, and his heart took off like a Diomedean horse.
And now this telepathic link with her. What James claimed was soul symmetry. Something of legend that the Jäger Father had once mentioned happened in an alternate timeline, in another reality. Otherwise, nothing else Eddie understood explained this phenomenon.
He smiled, pride swelling in him. She’d just blasted a Shadowzord to oblivion a moment ago, with a bit of guidance from him. He liked this. He really liked that she needed him for help. Or for anything. Her needing him, period.
He shook his head. It’d been too long since he let any emotion govern his actions. Duty. The Jäger Brotherhood. The good of the many over the few, over his own self. These were the driving forces of his life for so long, but now...Belle was upsetting that balance.
He had too many questions. And too many lives hung in the balance for him to deviate from his prophetic path. Even with Dommedag on the horizon, the significance of everything he had worked for these hundreds of years, every mission completed, every monster slain, was paling in comparison to the weight of the pull Belle had on him. She was the sun, and he was slowly, irrevocably falling into her.
But to his destruction? Or salvation?
Eddie whispered the words that would open the doors to the temple. They shuddered, and then creaked wide, the powdery snow blasting past him. He walked through the long, narrow hall illuminated by soft electric lights. On his right were the sleeping quarters, on his left, the dojo, a martial arts training space. Only a handful of Jäger were present, practicing a lethal form of martial arts lost to previous generations.
They stood at attention, right fists over their hearts, and inclined their heads when he passed. “Ehrenjäger.”
He nodded back, making the same gesture. The Secret Ehrenjäger. The secret honorary hunter. And because of this, he was considered elite and the only one in the Jäger Father’s inner circle.
Only one other Jäger, besides Ernesto, had a title given to them by their prophecy: Verfluchterjäger. The Cursed Hunter. That unfortunate title had gone to his former best friend, Owen Douglass. Already fulfilling his prophecy when he went rogue and dropped off the Jägerhood’s radar.
But Eddie didn’t blame him. Not when Owen was cursed to have his best friend kill his girlfriend.
Eddie reached the spiral staircase in the back, the only way to the second floor, to the Jäger Father.
The ancient Fae sat on his cushion in the middle of the expansive stone room, lined wall to wall with books and artifacts, each with a prized story behind it. The ultimate antique hall.
Entering the room was like bathing in the tangible mystique of a carnival fun house, excitement and mystery lacing the air. One entire wall glowed with the light of a myriad of changing scenes of real people and creatures and different places and times. Like a magical television automatically flipping through channels, it showed dizzying scenes from alternate universes and timelines.
Eddie stopped before the old Fae. He knelt on one knee, fist over heart, and inclined his head. “Jäger Father.”
The legend of the old wise man on the mountain began with this Fae sitting before him. The Jäger Father resembled a Nepalese elder in the traditional pants, long shirt, and Topi hat. The long flowing mustache and white beard were braided with flowers. A Fae eccentricity. Only his eyes gave away that he wasn’t human: the whites of his eyes were normal, but there were no pupils—only the irises which were black like the night sky and dotted with star-like twinkles.
And those hypnotic eyes were turned on Eddie now.
The Jäger Father’s lips spread into a Joker-esque smile. He inclined his head, and still without a word, looked expectantly at his visitor. Waiting.
Words were extremely valuable to the Fae. They were the building blocks of the stories that served as currency in their realm. So any word from the Jäger Father’s mouth had to be paid for at a hefty price.
Eddie dropped a small black leather sack of “monster gold” between them. A quarter-sized pixie coin for each story behind every monster-kill. Centuries’ worth. It was his entire Fae fortune.
He had a lot of serious questions right now.
Jäger Father raised his bushy eyebrows at the sight of the pouch, but still waited.
Eddie pulled out the lock of hair from Belle—his breath involuntarily hitching at the feel of it—and laid it next to the pouch. This was the conversation-starter, the mandatory memento.
The excitement that lit up the Jäger Father’s eyes was unmistakable. And surprising. Eddie had never seen such euphoria on the ancient Fae’s face. His long, sinewy fingers gently cradled the lock of hair as if it were glass. The other hand reached into a pocket and produced a corked, cylindrical vial like a test tube. He uncorked it and promptly captured the stray, shimmery tear that had trailed down his cheek. Fae tears glittered and had medicinal properties.
It wasn’t something Eddie was going to ask, but now he just had to, and he had to do it carefully. From what Owen had once told him, the answers he’d gotten from the Jäger Father were confusing and misleading because he hadn’t chosen his words carefully.
“Why does Belle’s lock of hair bring you such joy?”
The old Fae laid it back down on the wooden floor. He lifted the bag of monster gold into his other palm, and Eddie knew he was weighing it, calculating its value. Finally, he gestured for Eddie to sit. This conversation was going to take a while.
A cushion materialized beneath Eddie, and he sat cross-legged like the Jäger Father.
The old Fae pointed to himself. “Me. Go home.”
The answers were never more than three words. The Jäger Father’s words were rare like diamonds, or in this case, monster gold. The clinking of three coins falling into a glass jar was heard from somewhere in the room, and Eddie knew his pouch had just gotten lighter.
But the answer had been worth it. Belle is the reason the Jäger Father can go home, back to Neverland? The old Fae had arrived with the original meteors, the Neverites, all those hundreds of years ago to kickstart the search for their savior and oversee the balance between the emerging Jäger and the Unnaturals.
“Is Belle Montague Neverland’s savior?”
He shook his head. One coin clinked elsewhere. Yes or no questions were worth one coin.
“Who is the savior then?”
He smiled dreamily, and a pair of tears escaped from his eyes; he captured both of them in the vial. “Peter Pan.”
The name was familiar, something he’d investigate later. But if the Fae had found their savior, then Dommedag was imminent. The sound of three coins leaving the pouch, renewed his focus on the original reason for this visit.
“Belle Montague. Who is she to me?”
“A friend.” Clink, clink, clink.
“In the Fae’s eyes,” Eddie corrected, “who is she to me?”
“A plot twist.” Clink, clink, clink.
“How is she a plot twist?”
“Not what’s expected.” Clink, clink, clink.
“How is she not what is expected?”
“She still lives.” Clink, clink, clink.
Eddie swallowed. “Was I...supposed to kill her?” Even saying it was difficult.
“Yes.” Clink.
He dreaded the Jäger Father’s answer to his next question, even though he already knew what his own answer was. “Should I kill her?”
The Jäger Father smiled. “No.” Clink.
Eddie’s relief was profound. The answer agreed with his own. He felt a giant weight lift off his shoulders. He didn’t want to kill Belle, and now he knew he didn’t need to kill her. But then why...?
“The day Belle killed the Hammerson brothers, I was activated to hunt her. But this hasn’t gone to plan as it should when a Jäger acquires his prime target. I don’t want to kill her, at all. It is the opposite, in fact: I would kill for her.” He breathed in and exhaled a shaky breath. “I-I feel like she owns me. And it’s different than just love because this is—I never thought I’d ever say this—more undeniable than what I felt for Marianne. So my question is...what is this hold that Belle has over me?”
The Jäger Father raised his right hand and closed his fingers into a fist. The gesture for, I will answer, but not yet.
Clink, clink, clink.
Eddie looked wearily at the pouch, feeling as deflated as it looked. The Jäger Father could take up to years to provide a promised answer. And that was one he wanted, no, needed right away.
He took a deep breath and began again. “Belle is the second child of a Fae acolyte, so she should only have two powers. Yet, besides dream-walking and wielding electricity, she has super strength, speed, and healing. She’s immune to my mindfluence, and yet, she can communicate telepathically with me. So my question is, what sort of Unnatural is she?”
“One of kind.”
“One of a kind,” Eddie repeated.
The old Fae’s lips lifted a fraction at the corners. That’s a yes, then.
But that still didn’t tell him enough. He rolled his lips, his frustration simmering. Three resounding clinks reminded him he now had two open-ended questions and two yes-or-no questions left.
“My prophecy. I suspect mine is the one that is switched with Ernesto Panzinski’s.” At the name, interest lit up the old Fae’s face, and Eddie proceeded carefully, daring to hope. “Does...my true prophecy involve me stopping Dommedag?”
The Jäger Father did not respond.
“Of course, my apologies. You won’t answer questions about Jäger prophecies.” Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and thought to himself, Concentrate. What do you need to know that you can’t figure out on your own? His eyes popped open. He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten. “Through a dream, Belle saw Violet Wickeby obtain three potions. What does each potion do?”
“Obedience, resistance, masking.”
Eddie could figure out pretty well who Violet was forcing to obey her and then masking that magic’s smell: two potions were being used on this beast then. Could the resistance potion perhaps be the antidote? Maybe Violet wanted it as leverage. Whatever the case, it was something he knew he could find out without having to ask now.
“How will—no, wait.” He needed to save his final open-ended question. “Will Violet Wickeby play a significant part in Dommedag?”
“Yes.” Clink.
The hairs on his forearms rose. When he returned to Elmridge, Violet Wickeby was going to be his prime target. And because he couldn’t ask enough to fully understand the anomaly that Belle was, he had to at least ask the most important question: “Will Belle play a significant part in Dommedag?”
“Yes.” Clink.
“How?” he shot off.
“She’ll start it.”
The warmth left his body, invaded by icy realization as he strung all the Jäger Father’s answers together into a fuller picture. Belle was going to start Dommedag, a planetary purge of the Unnaturals, which would kill millions, if not billions, of innocents in the process. He was supposed to kill Belle, but wouldn’t, and according to the Jäger Father, shouldn’t kill her.
Rage entered him. The Fae want Dommedag. Just as that demon that he’d exorcised from Belle had said. It was their ticket home. The Jäger Father’s ticket home. He’d even admitted it when he saw Belle’s lock of hair.
That’s why they don’t want me to kill Belle, he thought, a sour bitterness churning his stomach. His eyes blurred with heat as he met the Jäger Father’s sympathetic stare. The conclusion he’d reached sank its bloody claws into his heart and ripped it right out.
Eddie had to kill Belle to stop Dommedag.
Eddie’s voice quavered, and he worked really hard to not reach for a weapon and attack. “So, this whole time...Owen was right. We really are pawns in the High Fae’s elaborate story-game. A real-life Dungeons & Dragons game. Only in this one, the players are getting rich off of our suffering and plot twists.” He practically spit out the last word.
The Jäger Father picked up the empty pouch and offered it back to him.
The message was clear: Eddie was out of money, so no more answers could be purchased. He looked at the pouch with disgust, not touching it. “All’s right in the universe as long as your pockets are being lined, am I right?”
Never had Eddie directed such venom at the person who’d he respected and admired for so long, at the being who’d given him a greater purpose in life, a sure compass to guide him through this long, immortal life.
But never had Eddie thought the Jäger Father would allow the slaughter of innocents, just so he could get home. It was ingrained in the Jäger to protect the innocent humans from any murderous Unnaturals.
So this...this was a betrayal.
A hot tear slipped down his cheek, and the Jäger Father watched, fascinated.
“That’s right,” Eddie hissed. “Mine aren’t worth anything. I don’t need a precious vial to bottle them up.” He slowly stood to his feet. The Jäger Father, wearily watching his movements now, stood as well. “You have taught us, every single Jäger brother, to cut down those Unnaturals who shed human blood. Are you not an Unnatural then planning the slaughter of hordes of innocent people?”
The old Fae simply shook the empty bag at him, reminding him: no money, no answers.
Eddie pressed his lips into a hard line. He held his palm out beneath the raised pouch, a small gold fire erupting. Eddie held the Jäger Father’s stare as the pouch disintegrated into embers that floated away.
The old Fae frowned and dusted the ashes from his fingers, as if they were mere cookie crumbs.
“What do I do, Jäger Father,” Eddie began to circle him, “if I know of an Unnatural who will soon have an ocean of innocent blood on his hands?” A long dagger shimmered into his hand. “You taught us not to strike unless the Unnatural drew blood first. A bit convenient, don’t you think? After you strike, there will be no one left to strike back.”
Eddie stopped before him, the old Fae’s face remaining impassive, but the stars in his eyes held a sharpness that wasn’t there before. “If I hold to Jäger creed, isn’t it only right that I strike you down?” He pointed the dagger at the old Fae’s chin.
Eddie tried to be resolute, but his whole arm trembled. Flashes went off in his mind of all the kindness and wisdom his mentor had shown him these past centuries. From his initiation to his training, to his guidance through the heartbreak over his best friend’s abandonment, and then the loss of his first love, Marianne. Each time, the Jäger Father’s purchased words had brought comfort and guidance, and then the old Fae would freely gift him tokens that spoke volumes to his situation. Like the trademark Jäger wrist wrap Owen had discarded and left behind. The Jäger Father had gifted it to Eddie, as a sign that Owen would one day return to the fold, and Eddie would be able to present it to him again.
But that was all in the past.
Eddie stared into the old Fae’s face, the latter not moving, even while a dagger dug into his chin, waiting for the young pupil to decide his move.
And the thought of what lay now in the future, imagining having to drive a dagger into Belle’s heart, cemented Eddie’s decision. With an anguished shout, Eddie drove the dagger in. But instead of flesh, the blade pierced through a cloud of shimmery gold.
Eddie whipped around, heart hammering wildly.
The Jäger Father had disappeared and reappeared at the far end of the room, head inclined with sorrow at the choice his pupil had made.
“You coward!” Eddie screamed. “Fight me!”
The Jäger Father waved his hand, and a confused Jäger, who Eddie recognized had been training on the first floor, appeared before him.
“Get out of my way,” Eddie growled.
The Jäger stumbled back a step, put off by this sudden hostility from the revered Ehrenjäger. The newcomer swung his head around to the Jäger Father, who promptly crossed his fists over his chest and pulled them apart. The sign for “fight.”
Understanding, the Jäger faced Eddie, but before the newcomer could even set a stance, he was promptly knocked out by a side kick. Just as quickly, though, another confused Jäger appeared before Eddie.
“So this is how it’s going to be,” Eddie muttered, knowing full well the Jäger Father could hear him. “Fight my way through every Jäger in the place to get to you. So be it.”
The second Jäger was quicker on the uptake than the first, and smoothly defended against Eddie’s strike.
Eddie had gotten rid of the dagger. He knew his fellow Jäger were being used as pawns, too. One after the other—six brief martial arts dances that would have made Bruce Lee proud—each of the six Jäger disappeared after a knock-out or submission, until only the Jäger Father was left.
Eddie, panting heavily, his bruised eye and bloody lip already healing, stared down at the old Fae. “Fight me.” Twice in the past, the Jäger Father had made him fight everyone in the dojo—to fight out his anger over losing Owen, and then Marianne. But this time, it wasn’t enough. “I need to fight you.”
The old Fae held up his right fist and slowly opened it toward him, palm up, as if releasing something to Eddie. There had been one answer the Jäger Father had been holding on to, the one he most wanted to know.
“You’ll tell me now?” Eddie’s anger promptly diluted into a mix of anxiety and hope. “What hold Belle has over me?”
The only hold Eddie felt he could learn to resist was an unnatural, sinister one. “Siren” was his pet name for her, but if it was real, and she really was some form of siren...then, maybe that would make it easier to do what his mind already knew he had to do, no matter how impossible his heart and soul felt it would be. He would just have to picture the horde of innocent people suffering and dying because of his weakness, and how he couldn’t allow that. The good of the many had to outweigh the good of the very few. And he and Belle were that very few.
The Jäger Father held up a finger, silencing him, and then motioned for him to follow.
Eddie did, keeping close and watching as the old Fae crossed the room, stooped to pick up the lock of hair, and then crossed to a wall lined with scrapbooks. One scrapbook for each Jäger, filled with the mementos each Jäger brought from their missions, and which the Jäger Father kept record of. A physical record of each Jäger’s life-story. Eddie’s own scrapbook was bursting at the seams with mementos.
So imagine his astonishment when the Jäger Father waved his hand, and a new Jäger’s scrapbook appeared on the small crafting table before him. He opened the book to the first page, spat a glob on it, and glued the lock of hair to it. He then closed it and squeezed it onto the end of the shelf. The shelf of Jäger scrapbooks.
Eddie sputtered, “Are you telling me Belle is a Jäger? B-But she’s a girl.” He thought about it out loud some more because the Jäger Father couldn’t answer. “There never has been any rule against female Jäger.” He nodded to himself. “So, because we were all male, we assumed only males could be Jäger.” He started rambling, trying to keep up with his fast-working mind. “Her extra superpowers...they are Jäger powers. And she’s able to take out the Shadow Spawn, too. Is this connection between us because we’re Jäger? Would she have the same connection with other Jäger?” Hot jealousy stoked inside him, and he suddenly felt fiercely about keeping this particular Jäger to himself.
The Jäger Father held a finger up for silence again.
Eddie held his tongue. He continued following and watching, his mind reeling.
The old Fae paused in front of a shelf of collectible boxes, reached into an old Cracker Jack box and withdrew a crystal vial, the same used for stopping up Fae tears. He pushed aside old soda bottles and rummaged around until he withdrew a flat square box. The box was opalescent and dotted with tiny spots of gold pixie dust. He moved to another shelf and picked out two small black leather sacks from a cracked fishbowl. With the items in his hands, he shuffled over to the large viewing screen, which was flicking through various scenes of realities at a dizzying, incoherent pace.
The Jäger Father looked at Eddie and motioned for him to follow as he stepped through the screen and disappeared.
Eddie’s breath stalled in his lungs at the sight. Tentatively, he pushed a hand towards the screen, and it went right through. The other side was slightly cooler. The promised answer had to be waiting for him just through there. Wherever there was. He took a deep breath, held it, and stepped through.
He found himself inside a small room with seamless walls and a domed ceiling made up of a patchwork of mini-screen versions of the larger one outside, all flickering their silent hectic images. The floor was the same wood-paneled one as outside, and behind him was the same larger screen.
“I will face a tribunal for this.”
Eddie’s eyebrows flew up as he focused on the Jäger Father, standing in the center of the room, a solemn smile on his face.
“You’ve just said more than three words. And I haven’t paid for any of them.”
“No one can overhear in this room. Out there, our every move, every word is recorded.”
“Why then—”
“I was losing you. My Lieblingsjäger.”
“Your favorite Jäger? I thought I was the Ehrenjäger. The honorary hunter. You just told me my true title from my true prophecy, didn’t you?”
The old Fae nodded.
Free answers! Where would he begin? “Can you tell me my true prophecy?”
The old Fae shook his head. “You must read it for yourself.”
“I may never have the chance. Emily Prynn has it, and from what James and I have discovered, she’s in Neverland.”
“Emily will return for her husband.”
When Eddie opened his mouth to fire off another question, the Jäger Father raised a hand to stop him.
“Forgive me,” Eddie said instead. “I-I just feel so lost. I came here for guidance, and from what you’ve told me, I am going to leave more wretched than before. I know now I need to kill Belle, but I cannot bring myself to do it.”
“Now, you are on the right path.” The Jäger Father stepped closer and touched Eddie’s forehead. “You are using this, as you should, but you are in doubt, so now you are using this,” he pointed to his heart, “as you should. Continue to lead with your mind, and double-check with your heart, and you will not go wrong.”
Suddenly resolved, Eddie said, “Belle will not die by my hand, nor by anyone else’s, if I can help it.”
The Jäger Father gripped him by the shoulders and squeezed. “Good.”
Eddie looked down at the old Fae. He’d wanted to kill him just a minute ago. Repentance washed over him, and he hung his head. “Do you forgive me, Jäger Father, for losing my temper on you?”
“Only if you forgive me for the price you are paying for being in this room.” Eddie’s head jerked up. “It was the only way to give you more clarity and not be overheard.”
“What do you mean?” Alarm prickled at Eddie’s senses. “What price?”
“We don’t have much time. The High Fae will soon send their Inquisitors to find out why I have blipped you out of their radar. I am the only one sanctioned to come into this room.”
“What is this place then?”
“It is not important for you to know.” The Jäger Father presented him with the items in his hands. “Take these gifts. Put the vial and the box in one of the pouches. Make sure to give it to Belle. The other pouch is for you, since you saw fit to incinerate your last one.”
Eddie did as instructed, and then pocketed both pouches. “Only a Fae needs a tear-catcher....”
“Belle is one of a kind. She became both Jäger and Fae when she was resurrected at your cousin’s hands. It was the only way to reverse the demon’s possession and restructure the timeline so Dommedag would happen at its appointed time.”
Eddie clenched his fists. “Why are you allowing Dommedag to happen? How could you want this? So many innocent—”
“YOU misunderstand Dommedag!” The room shook with the force of his words.
Eddie stumbled back. The whole mountain must have shaken.
The vehemence of the Jäger Father’s tone lightened with each word uttered. “Which is why you have fallen into wrath. You will need to relearn the true meaning of Dommedag.” The Jäger Father stroked his beard once, a self-soothing gesture, and then pointed to Belle’s pouch in Eddie’s pocket. “Give her the contents. Explain the use of the vial. Feel free to tell her all I have told you. And most importantly,” tears glistened in the old Fae’s eyes now and a dreamy smile spread on his lips, “you must give her the box in the presence of two witnesses. Only Belle can open it, and then you must help her put it on.”
“What’s in the box?” Eddie asked slowly, suspicious of the cloud-nine look on his face.
“That will be for you both to discover.” The Jäger Father stepped closer to him. “Are you ready?”
“I am ready for the answer that I’m owed.” What hold does Belle have over me? He was starting to suspect, though, that he already knew the answer.
The Jäger Father nodded and pulled a folded paper from his pocket. He handed it to Eddie, who gingerly unfolded it, the yellowed paper crackling as if about to disintegrate in his hands.
“What is it?” Eddie asked.
It was a hand-drawn poem beneath a small, faded painting of a beautiful woman standing in a field, and a figure in black, glowing blade in hand, lurking behind her. A blue sky held cherubs sitting on puffs of clouds looking impishly down at the pair.
“It is your destiny,” the Jäger Father answered. “Foretold by the Prynn sisters long ago.”
Eddie’s brows pinched together. The girl in the picture had long, curly hair like Belle. He pored over the poem.
For those gifted and empowered
From the immortal Fae’s bower,
Let no human blood spill from your kill.
Let no human life be cost of your strife.
For soon as their blood seeps into the Earth,
Your Jäger—your death—will be given birth.
But the Fae love twists and polar opposites,
The cure for the death then is a love truly pure.
The Jäger, the hunted—one match of true love,
Passionate soul symmetry ordained from Above.
Only one switched prophecy in Jäger history.
Only one doomed kiss for Dommedag bliss.
Eddie looked to the Jäger Father, heart pounding in his ears, “This is about me and Belle, isn’t it?”
He nodded.
“James mentioned ‘soul symmetry.’ Is that the hold she has over me?”
He nodded again. “The hold over both of you.”
“She...she feels it, too?” Unease quickly replaced his thrill. “But isn’t this all unnatural? This connection then...it’s not real.”
“You misunderstand soul symmetry like you misunderstand Dommedag. Soul symmetry is one of a kind. The legends of it whispered amongst our kind...they are all of you and Belle.”
“I-I don’t understand. How can there be legends of us, if we have no history? I’ve just met Belle.”
“You are wrong again.”
At that, the Jäger Father snapped his fingers, and all the flickering images stopped, each settling on a different episode of what looked like the Eddie and Belle show.
Eddie spun in a slow circle, his mouth falling, eyes growing wider. He and Belle were together in some form, in every single viewscreen. Seeing her again, right before his eyes—laughing, crying, wrinkling her nose in that adorable, confused look—made his heart feel like it was seizing.
His eyes bulged at one screen. She was beheading a gorgon, and then tossing her long curls over her shoulder and throwing a long-haired version of himself a smug smile. But it was the next sight that stole his breath and made him drop to his knees: they were engaged in the most intimate act, on piles of fur rugs before a roaring fireplace.
He couldn’t breathe.
The Jäger Father snapped his fingers again, and the images returned to their chaotic flickering. “I hope now you understand. In any timeline, alternate reality, or universe, a person’s soul is the same. But you two...the only pair of beings with soul symmetry...share a soul. Belle is, in every sense of the word, your soulmate.”
Overwhelmed, Eddie dropped his head into his hands.
The old Fae stepped closer and his deep sigh ruffled Eddie’s hair. “There is more, but I cannot divulge any further.” His hand came to rest on Eddie’s head. “I sense a greater upheaval in your soul than before, my Lieblingsjäger.”
Slowly, Eddie stood to his feet, his eyes casting a glance once more at the viewscreen that had stolen the strength from his legs, but the screen was a mere chaotic blur now. He took a deep breath and attempted to verbalize his turmoil. “Since this mission with Belle began, many of the feelings I’d buried so long ago...they’ve resurfaced. And they all feel so magnified.”
“Feelings such as?”
“Anger, fear...”
“Love and desire?” The old Fae added.
Eddie tugged at his hair. “I don’t know. It-It feels different than with Marianne. With Belle, it’s like I don’t have a choice, and I guess I know why now.” Disappointment tinged his tone.
“You feel shackled, then.”
“Yes. No. I mean, I don’t know.”
Bang!
Their attention snapped toward the noise.
BANG! BANG!
It was coming from outside one of the walls.
“What is that?” Eddie asked, a dagger already shimmering in one hand.
The Jager Father briefly closed his eyes as if concentrating. He opened them again and smiled serenely. “Nothing to worry about. Yet.”
“That wasn’t cryptic,” Eddie said snidely, still eyeing the direction of the abated noise.
“Do you trust me, my Lieblingsjäger?”
It took Eddie longer than usual to answer, but he nodded finally, the dagger shimmering away into nothing. “Yes, Jäger Father.”
The old Fae tented his fingers together beneath his chin and proceeded to walk slowly around the small room. “So...you are worried your connection to Belle is a product of Fae magic, and therefore not real by human standards.”
He sighed. “Precisely.”
“Then, tell her nothing of soul symmetry and your entwined destinies, and let her be free to make her life choices without the burden of this truth.”
Eddie felt a painful squeeze in his chest. “Even if it means...”
“She chooses someone else,” the old Fae finished for him. “So, whoever she does choose to be with, it will be entirely of her own free will, unabetted by Fae magic. Isn’t this what you want?”
“What I want?” Eddie repeated, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he gazed past the Jäger Father’s shoulder. He remembered Belle’s lightning smile lighting up the green-gold skies of her eyes. Her laugh igniting the sunrise in his soul, every single time, versus that blank, lifeless look in her eyes and grim line to her mouth from when he’d first met her, a haunting look he swore he would always work to keep from dimming her light ever again. “What I want...is her happiness.”
“Even if it’s with another?”
Eddie hung his head again. “Yes,” he whispered.
“A wise path, my Lieblingsjäger, and one barely trodden on, for only the pure of heart could make such a choice.”
A bolt of sheer terror and despair rocked through Eddie’s body, nearly knocking him off his feet. The Jäger Father caught him by the shoulders.
“Belle’s in trouble,” Eddie gasped out. The only other time he’d felt anything close to this magnitude was when she’d dreamt she was being burned alive.
“I hope you will forgive me,” the Jäger Father said, all chagrin. “I told you that there would be a price to pay for bringing you in here.”
Eddie grabbed him roughly by the collar. “The price cannot be Belle.”
The Jäger Father patiently pried his fingers off. “Time. The price is time.”
Panic stabbed at him. “What do you mean?”
“Time moves differently in this room. A minute here is a day out there.”
“Oh God.”
“We have been here seven minutes and 35 seconds.”
“Seven days? I’ve lost a week!”
“Yes, and Belle is in mortal danger; Violet Wickeby has possessed her.” The color leeched from Eddie’s face. “I will send you directly to her, but first—”
“Now,” Eddie said hoarsely. “You send me right now.”
“A warning—”
“NOW!” he exploded. An aura of gold dust escaped his body, causing the room to rumble, the screens all freezing on still images.
The Jäger Father leveled him with a firm look and said, “Beware of Hook.”
“I don’t care about any hook! Send me now, or so help me God, I will—”
Just as Eddie was about to close his hands over the old Fae’s neck and commit murder, he disappeared.
The Jäger Father stared forlornly at the space before him, the last of the shimmering pixie fading from Eddie’s outline. “Goodbye my Lieblingsjäger. I fear this is the last you have seen of me.”
A chorus of chimes and tinkles from afar grew louder and louder.
“The Inquisitors are here.”
THE END