Page 50 of The Witch's Spell
Without meaning to, I find myself scooting closer to Thorne, Harrison still curled in my lap. “Tell me more,” I say softly. “Tell me of your childhood.”
I wish to know everything about him, wish to understand the strange language he speaks and trace every facet of crystal in his eyes. I wish to let his stories allow me to forget my failure here today, if even for a moment.
Again, Thorne laughs. “I am the youngest of six siblings, so you can imagine how busy our home was, with someone always coming or going, tears and laughter and yelling I could hear through the walls. A normal family, I think. Or normal as families can be.”
He looks down, the smile leaving his mouth as he begins to trace shapes through the snow with one fingertip. “But being the youngest, and with my disability, there were certain... challenges that I found difficult to overcome. So I’d often run away. I’d never make it far—into the gardens or the woods, usually—but as soon as I left the castle, I’d be able to breathe again. I’d forget about my siblings and how accomplished they all were, would forget about the ways in which I felt I’d never measure up, and I’d stay out there for hours, until my father eventually sent the dryads to find me or came to fetch me himself.”
Thorne flicks snow from his fingertip, and a softer look comes over his face. “I think that’s why I find such fulfillment in traveling. While I enjoy home, it’s always felt... confining. As soon as I was old enough to leave home alone, I began journeying, exploring new places and learningalong the way.” His eyes flick to mine, and I realize his glamour has once more fallen away, allowing me to see him as he truly is. “That’s how I ended up here, in Faunwood, in your cottage.”
There’s so much I want to ask him, but the first thing that comes out is, “You grew up in acastle?”
“Oh, yes.” Thorne glances away, looking bashful for the first time since I’ve known him. His profile is sharp, and the sunlight reflecting off the snow makes his silvery skin shimmer with that subtle glow. “My father is the lord of Eldrasyl. My family, the Blackveils, have stewarded the land for many generations. But as the youngest child, I have very few responsibilities, apart from attending feasts and being at my eldest sister’s beck and call.” He laughs. “I wonder if she’s even noticed my absence—if any of them have.”
“How could anyone not notice your absence?” I ask, my tone perhaps a touch sharper than I intended for it to be. But I can’t imagine it, being indifferent to Thorne’s presence. When he’s around, my skin tingles like there’s a storm in the air, and my eyes find him even without me meaning for them to. He draws my attention like I’m a moth to his ethereal flame.
“If you knew my siblings,” he says with a hint of humor, “you’d understand. And I don’t mean to say they’re unkind, because they’re not. But they have big personalities, and I’ve always been quiet, more adept at listening than throwing my opinions around. Faelynn, my eldest sister, is the first born and will someday take over Eldrasyl’s responsibilities from my father. We get along well, she and I, but she has manyduties to attend to.” He lifts one shoulder in another shrug. “So I would not be surprised if it took her some time to become aware of my not being there.”
“Will they come looking or you?” I ask. Then hope beams inside my chest. “Might they be able to assist in mending the portal?”
Thorne’s smooth brow furrows. “I don’t believe they will. It’s not uncommon for me to go traveling for weeks at a time. They’ll simply think I’m off on another journey and will expect me to return home in due time.”
The hope dims and flickers out. And it reminds me that I’m seated in the snow in a forest in a tiny village that’s surrounded by fairy fog that refuses to let us pass.
And I’ve still no idea how I’m going to fix the problem, or even if I’ll be able to.
Reaching into the snow, I retrieve Auntie’s singing bowl and the mallet. Eyes still cast down, I say, “I think I’d like to return home now.”
When I look up at Thorne, he’s frowning, and his face is glamoured once more.
Chapter 26
Rowan
I’M SITTING CROSS-LEGGED IN AURORA’S fairy meadow, the one she showed me so many months ago. The air is warm, and my hair is loose. It brushes my face, impeding my vision, so I reach up to push it out of my eyes. In my other hand, I hold three long blades of grass, and I’m twining them around one another, braiding them into a circlet. And seated in my lap, their small hands on mine, is my child.
Their hair is red, like mine, but they smell like Aurora—like lavender and sunlight with a hint of sugar from all her baking. And as we work together to weave the strong blades of grass into what will soon be a crown, the child starts to sing.
“Oh, the earth turns green and the sky turns blue, in a dance that’s ancient and forever true.”
Their voice is tiny, barely a voice at all, but it reminds me of Aurora and of how she sings while she gardens and hums while she bakes. It reminds me of her easy laughter and quicksmile. And I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of love, as if all is right in the world.
Smiling, I join in, the words familiar to me thanks to how often Aurora sings this song.
“From the mountains high to the valleys low, the earth and sky in a waltz they go.”
While we sing, I finish braiding the grass and tie it off, then pluck a white flower from the earth beside me and tuck it into the tightly woven strands.
“There,” I say. “A crown fit for a princess.”
A princess.
So, I’ve a daughter, then. A red-haired daughter.
I place the crown atop her head, and she squeals with delight, then scrambles out of my lap to twirl through the meadow, lightweight cotton dress swishing around her calves.
“The sky does paint the morning light,” she sings, voice carrying in the flower-scented air, “with hues of gold and pink so bright.”
I clap along, laughing and smiling as she sings and dances and muddies her perfect little toes. When we get home, she’ll surely track mud through the cottage, leaving her tiny footprints in the foyer and into the kitchen, where Aurora will be waiting for us, fresh snacks and lemonade already prepared.
