Consciousness came back in a wave of blistering pain. My skin was burning. I screamed. And screamed. I screamed until someone cut my palm and a chilly rush of magic flooded my veins, temporarily dousing the fire. I tried to focus on my palm, but the darkness was already creeping in.
It happened again.
And again.
And again.
I lost track of how often I woke to terrible agony, my flesh scorching from the inside out. Sometimes the cooling relief came quickly and I’d immediately fall into unconsciousness, but other times it took so long I thought I would die. I wished I would die. There were voices I couldn’t understand over my screams and faces I couldn’t focus on through the pain.
Eventually, by agonizingly slow degrees, the pain lessened. I opened my eyes, and my skin was hot, too hot, but no longer on fire. I didn’t think there was anything left to burn. I stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling, one with a strange woven pattern.
“She’s awake,” a female voice to the side of me said. I wanted to turn my head to face the speaker, but the slightest movement shot pain down my neck, and my head throbbed.
“I’ll fetch the Magia Sange,” another voice said, light and airy.
“Elenora, can you hear me?” the gentle female voice asked.
I tried to speak, but my mouth felt swollen, my throat scraped raw from screaming. All I managed was a moan.
“Don’t try to speak if it hurts too much.” A damp cloth was placed on my forehead, providing a moment of relief from the burning. I heard footsteps approaching but did not bother trying to move.
“She’s not screaming this time. That is an improvement.” It was Pel speaking now. His voice sent a wave of anger through me, but also an unwanted yearning. I might not be screaming, but my skin felt hot, the burning sensation stronger the longer I stayed conscious. Weakly, I wanted him to make it go away.
“Indeed, but the recovery is slow,” the female answered. “She’s still burning with fever thanks to what your brother did.” There was an edge of accusation to her voice, and I liked her for it.
“My brother can be a cruel creature,” Pel said, his voice flat. “And you have my thanks, Lady Lorella, for tending to her.” I heard Pel’s voice coming closer. I wanted to say something or even simply turn to look at him, but movement was beyond me. I hated the feeling of helplessness, made worse by my craving for Pel’s cooling blood magic. I needed the ice in my veins to calm the fire of the poison. The pain was getting worse again, and I bit my lip to avoid crying out. I kept it in, holding my breath until I felt a sharp bite of metal across my palm.
“Dormir sange.” The cold was a welcomed relief.
I awoke to a smoldering burn. The fire was gone in my veins, burned out, or at least died to embers. There was a soft mattress supporting me, and I was no longer in my ruined gown, but wearing a simple shift dress, light and silky against my skin. I tried not to think about who might have changed my clothes as I stared at the woven ceiling. I noticed that the ceiling was not simply an interlacing pattern, but comprised of branches and vines intertwined tightly, with leaves growing out at odd angles. As I studied the room, I realized the entire chamber had the same woven look, as though the branches had been convinced to grow in the shape of a room. A wide, oval opening formed a window, spiderweb curtains billowing in the slight breeze. My memories felt foggy as I tried to recall the last few days. I struggled to sit up, but every muscle ached and my skin felt bruised to the touch. A gentle hand supported my back, helping me to sit. My head swam.
“You’re awake.” It was the same voice I had heard speaking to Pel. I scrapped my mind to remember her name.
When the dizziness lessoned to a mild swaying, I looked at the person who spoke, the same one who had helped me sit. She was a beautiful faerie with charcoal eyes that seemed kind, even with their strange cat-eye pupils. She appeared young, maybe my age, but with pale gray hair shot through with silver that was complemented by the elegant dress she wore, a garment the color of a pearl, that shimmered as she moved.
“Are you Lady Lore—” I started, recalling Pel’s conversation with her. But my throat felt full of ash, and I coughed, a painful hacking that dug into my lungs before I got her name out.
“Shh, don’t try to speak yet. Your throat is still raw from the sitano. Yes, I am Lady Lorella. Please, call me Lorella. I am here to help you.”
“Why?” I managed to choke out. Though she seemed genuine, I had learned the hard way not to trust the fay.
“Pel asked that I care for you. He knows that I am the only Magia Viveralis that would.” The confusion on my face supplied the question I didn’t have the voice for, as Lorella explained. “Sorry, I imagine you would not know. The Magia Viveralis make up the royal family. We deal in life magic. It is similar to how Pel, a Magia Sange, works in blood magic.”
I took in her words, wanting to ask more about the fay. I had assumed all faeries could do blood magic, the way Pel and Elrik could, but apparently I was mistaken. Life magic. I thought about Queen Marasina controlling the growth of the vine around Casper’s neck. Memories of that doomed night came crashing back to me. Casper being dragged away to a prison as Elrik handed me a poison.
“Casper!” I croaked. I needed to get to him, to find out where the Aqueno Prison was and rescue him. I struggled, trying to get out of the bed, but the movement shot fiery heat across my skin and sent my world reeling again.
“Elenora, please stop,” Lorella begged, her gray eyes wide with concern. “You’re in no position to move around. Please, drink this, it will aid in your recovery.” She plucked a small vial of green liquid from the table next to the bed and poured the contents into a goblet. She added water from a pitcher and drew the cup up to my lips, ready to help me down the liquid.
I stared at her in mute rebellion as the world steadied, but the horror of the situation washed over me. Casper had been taken away and I couldn’t even stand, much less go to him. I pressed my lips tightly together. I didn’t need to rely on the old folktales to know the dangers of fay drinks—Elrik ensured I experienced it firsthand.
Lorella appraised me with a keen look, acknowledged my resistance. “I doubt I would trust us after what happened to you. But we are not all brutes like Elrik. I only seek to help you. This elixir is safe, I promise. Here.” She brought the goblet to her own lips and drank a sip. “See?” I stared at her, not sure what to make of her gestures. She took my silence as further reluctance. “You need to heal and regain your strength for when you face the court, and my mother has demanded your presence as soon as you are well enough to walk.”
“Your mother?”
“Yes, Queen Marasina.” Lorella smiled, almost sheepishly. “But I am her youngest child, so Pel thought it might not be beneath me to help nurse you.”
Though I felt overwhelmed by her revelations, I noticed that the elixir was having no ill effect on her. And one way or another, I would have to heal. I would be no good to Casper or myself this vulnerable. And if my options were this strange drink or continue to rely on Pel’s blood magic, I would take my chances with the goblet. I carefully nodded, and Lorella handed it to me. Even the minor weight of the silver in my hand made my skin burn and hands shake, but I refused to be helped to drink. I gripped the goblet tightly, my hands glistening, already coated in sweat.
Slowly, I lifted the chalice to my lips. The liquid smelled fresh and grassy, and tasted of rosemary and other herbs I couldn’t identify. It was slightly sweet and musky, but cold, and the chill eased my throat as I swallowed. Almost immediately a slight numbness spread through me. It wasn’t nearly as powerful as Pel’s sleeping magic, but it dulled the burning pain and helped to steady the world. I ached all over, but it was a vast improvement.
“What was that?” I asked. My words came out rough, but I no longer felt like I was choking on ash.
“Choraka root, mainly. It’s an elixir I created from the root, some juniper berries, rosemary, and a bit of other things. And of course, I infused it with some life magic. It should provide you with some relief and speed the healing process. But if the pain is too great, I can still fetch Pel.”
“No!” I snapped, and my cry made my throat ache even with the choraka in effect. The pain was bad, but manageable. I didn’t want to rely on Pel or his magic.
Lorella moved back at my sudden outburst, but then nodded. “This should help dull the pain enough for you to sleep.”
“I have questions,” I said, my voice raspy. Even as I spoke, my eyelids felt heavy. For the first time in what felt like forever, it was from my own fatigue, and not from blood magic. That knowledge let me relax as unconsciousness stole over me.
It was utterly silent in the Biawood Forest. Casper stood a few feet away, his dark eyes burning into me. His lips moved, but I couldn’t hear him. I tried to go to him, but my legs gave way, and I fell to my knees, my skin suddenly scalding. I looked down to see vines snaking around my wrists. I screamed, pulling at the vines. Casper vanished, and Pel stood in his place. He didn’t speak, but as I watched him, his features subtly melted into that of his brother.
“I will have you,” Elrik said.
I sat up with a start, breathing hard. Only a dream, I thought, staring at the embroidered blanket as I waited for my heart to slow. The burn on my skin still felt real. The sun cast long shadows in my room, letting me know I had slept through most of the day.
“Sleep well?” Pel was in the room, sitting on a stool that looked more like a tree stump.
“Have you been watching me sleep?” I asked, unsettled by his presence. I glanced around the room, realizing we were alone.
A look of hurt flashed across Pel’s face before he smoothed it out. “Lady Lorella, her handmaids, and I have been taking shifts, in case you woke up in pain.”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “And I would be even better if your brother had not poisoned me.” I could already feel the dull burn in my bones, but I would not waste this opportunity. It might be my only chance to use Pel.
“He should not have done that,” Pel leaned toward me, but I threw my hands up, and he stopped. “I need to speak with you about that. In a way, he has given you a gift.”
I scoffed. “I cannot believe you, Pel. The fay must be sick folk indeed to consider so much pain a gift.” My mind raced, trying to best frame the command I would use. I needed to get free and rescue Casper. But I had to be careful. If I commanded Pel to take me to Casper, he might yell to summon guards while doing so. Pel sensed something, a frown tugging at his lip.
“Nor, I can tell you are plotting. But I need to speak with you about what you’ve become.”
“Where is Casper?” I asked.
“Nor, you should forget about him. He cannot be a part of your life now.” Pel’s voice was gentle, but rage boiled within me, as though Pel had any right to tell me who should be a part of my life.
“Rumpelstiltskin, where is Casper?” I demanded, using Pel’s true name.
The frown turned into a full sneer, his face glowing with anger as he was compelled to speak. I knew it was the gravest insult to command a faerie, to steal their free will. I didn’t care. I would do anything to free Casper and myself.
“The Aqueno Prison,” Pel spat out.
“But where is that prison?” I needled, frustrated with his lack of information.
“Nor, there is something you need to understand,” Pel said, the urgency speeding his words. He wasn’t answering my question, but I realized I hadn’t used his true name for the demand.
“Rumpelst—” I started, but Pel cut me off.
“Elenora Molnár, by all the sacred magics, stop it! Look at yourself!” Pel picked up a silver mirror, shoving it in my face. I was ready to try my command again, until I saw my reflection.
I didn’t recognize the creature staring back at me. Gone was my straw-colored hair, for it was now as white as fresh snow. Instead of gold-flecked brown eyes, my irises were pure gold, the brown completely gone. Instead of round pupils, cat-eye oval slits stared back at me. My skin was still darker than the pale fay, but the luminous copper hue was distinctly inhuman. And I could make out the pointed tips of my ears.
I slowly reached for the mirror, hoping to find it was another cruel faerie trick. As Pel handed it to me, I truly studied my hands. I had thought they gleamed with sweat, but I realized now that they actually glimmered. My skin was no longer the sun-kissed tan I took for granted, but the same shimmering copper as the face in the polished silver and glass. I had become the enemy. My very skin betrayed me.
My world tilted as the horror of it washed over me. I dropped the mirror; the sound of it cracking seemed far away as a ringing grew in my ears. I stumbled out of bed and away from Pel. He might have been speaking to me, but I couldn’t focus on him. My vision blurred as I tried to make it out of the room, needing to escape. As I reached for a chair, I felt unfamiliar muscles on my shoulder blades contract. Large dragonfly wings extended, knocking over the nearest chair, and I screamed, realizing the wings were a part of me. I sank to the floor, dropping my head between my knees, attempting to breathe through the panic. My bare feet stepped on broken mirror shards and my skin burned, but those pains paled compared to the disgust I felt at the abomination I had become. My breaths came out short and quick, as though I couldn’t get enough air. Nothing in the long list of deceptions and difficult situations I had lived through came close to preparing me for this.
I waited to pass out, unconsciousness preferable to accepting the monster I had become. But I remained awake. After some time, my breathing slowed, the quick, sharp panic settling into something deeper, a horror rooted into my soul. The terror transformed into a depression. The adrenaline seeped from my system, leaving me utterly exhausted.
“I know this is a shock, but in time you may view this as a gift.” Pel’s words were soft, as though he were speaking to a frightened animal. I wanted to hit him.
I sat back on my heels, wiping my eyes with the palms of my hands. I felt depleted, my insides hollowed out.
“So, this is what your Chace-cursed poison does? Turns humans into fay?” I spat the word fay.
Pel grimaced. “Sitano is not my poison. I truly wished my brother had not forced you to take it.” I scoffed, but he continued. “And no, sitano does not turn a human fay, such a thing is impossible. The sitano strips off any glamour, any part of you that is not fay. A harsh treatment, but one that is quite effective.” Pel looked around the room, his eyes avoiding my own murderous stare.
“But now I’m fay,” I argued. Realization tried to creep into my mind, but I desperately wanted to deny this new truth.
“Technically, you are only half fay.” Pel slowly picked up the pieces of the mirror.
“But my father was Samuel,” I said, stubbornly holding on to my threads of humanity even as I felt them pulled away from me.
“And doesn’t Samuel sound an awful lot like Soren?” I shook my head, but Pel continued, “Nor, if you were truly all human, the sitano would have burned you to ash. You would be dead now.” He stared at the cracked mirror, refusing to meet my eyes. In his utter sincerity, I felt the raw truth of his words. My last connections to humanity snapped as conversations about the queen’s dead son started to make more sense.
“Which makes me a granddaughter to your queen.” I had thought Elrik merely enjoyed torture, but his cruelty had another purpose. And I was certain Elrik had not been trying to reunite an estranged royal family out of kindness.
“That is most likely.” Pel paused, weighing his words. “I thought you should know, before you see Queen Marasina tomorrow.”
“What do you mean?” I asked warily. I was exhausted, and all I wanted was to forget everything in sleep.
“My queen has summoned you to attend her at court tomorrow morning.”
I swallowed hard. I had no desire to see Queen Marasina, even if somehow it was true that she was my grandmother. I would never consider her kin. “And if I refuse?”
“There is no denying my queen. You are in her domain and her word is law. It will go better for you if you seem eager to please, lest she have to send guards to fetch you.” There was no joy in Pel’s tone, and I wondered if he felt some remorse for dragging me to his queen.
Trapped, I thought. I was trapped here in this room and with these fay. I was even trapped inside my own body, transformed into something I didn’t recognize. I looked down at my hands, glowing copper skin reminding me I was no longer human.
Will Casper even want to see me after what I have become? And as fay are prohibited in Reynallis, how will I ever see my brothers again? Despair threatened to overwhelm me again.
“Pel, I think you should go,” I said, refusing to look at him.
“Very well, Nor.” I heard him rise to his feet. He paused before adding, “I shall see if Lady Lorella can escort you to court tomorrow.” He waited, but I didn’t respond, didn’t look up. Finally, he left me alone.
I continued to stare at my hands long after his footsteps faded.