by Stacey Jay
And so I sit, and wait, and watch, comforted by every peaceful breath she takes.
I was too close to losing her before I could tell her that I forgive her. I can’t forget, and I can’t stop wishing that things had ended differently, but I can forgive.
I owe her that much before I go.
She sighs and shifts her arms, but she is still asleep when she shoves her blanket down, revealing the top of her white nightgown and the gentle curves beneath. She’s not the scrawny rail she appeared to be in her boy’s clothes. She dips and swells in all the girlish places, though she’s still on the runty side, even for a female. But with her chest unbound, her hair free, and lace at her throat, it is impossible to believe Aurora ever passed as a boy. She’s not simply feminine, she’s … pretty.
I know I should look at her and feel something—curiosity, attraction, appreciation at the very least, but I don’t. I don’t feel anything but the concern I’d feel for a friend, or for Haanah if it were my sister lying there looking like a rough wind could shatter her into pieces. I feel protective, of course, but that will fade once Aurora is recovered. I know she’s more than capable of fighting her own battles. As soon as she wakes up and drills me through with that determined gaze of hers, the protective feelings will be banished by the force of her … Aurora-ness.
She is unlike any girl I’ve ever met, a foreign creature in every way, too strange for all the pieces that make her up to be held together in my mind at once. I’m not sure what to call the emotion I feel for her, but it isn’t what a boy feels for a girl he wants to marry. I can’t imagine trying to seduce her.
My lip curls at the thought.
“What a … pretty face.” Aurora’s voice is breathy but amused.
I look to the bed, relief spreading through my chest when I see her eyes open and her gaze clear, clever, and rested. “Thank you.” I grin. “I’m feeling pretty today. The sun is out, the skies are clear, and you, my friend, aren’t dead.”
Aurora smiles, but I see the uncertainty in it. “No, I’m not. Thanks to you.”
I wave my hand. “Think nothing of it.”
“I won’t think nothing of it,” she says. “I don’t remember much of the journey, but I know it was dangerous. You risked your life. I’ll never be able to repay you.”
Four days ago, I would have told Ror to put a good word in for me with his sister and we’d call it even. Now I only force another smile and assure Aurora, “You don’t have to repay me. You would have done the same if our positions were reversed and you big enough to haul me over your shoulder through the mountains.”
“I would,” she says, her eyes troubled. “I’m glad you believe that.”
“Yes. Well … I’ve decided to … forgive you,” I say, the words sounding awkward aloud, not matter how many times I’ve practiced them in my head. “I came close to losing a good friend and I … didn’t like it. So …”
“So there is a good part to almost dying.” She smiles her first real smile, the one that dimples her cheeks and brings mischief to her eyes. She looks like Ror when he was teasing me, looking for a fight.
But then, she is Ror. Or Ror is her. Or … something.
Dammit. If only this were less confusing.
“I suppose.” I shrug, nervous for some reason, unsure how to behave with Aurora now that I’m not angry with her or afraid for her life.
“I know.” She smoothes a stray hair away from her forehead, seeming a little nervous herself. “How long have I been ill?”
“Five days. Three here and two and a half on the road, “I say, grateful to put the feeling talk behind us. “Two and a half days chased by every kind of nasty creature the ogre queen could send to haunt our footsteps, but no ogres, thank the gods. She must not have had men close enough to reach us before we hit the border of Beschuttz. If she had …” I don’t finish the thought. Aurora knows what would have happened if we’d encountered an ogre battalion. I’d be dead and she’d be waking up in Ekeeta’s dungeon.
“Still, Ekeeta must know where we are,” Aurora says, worry creeping into her tone. “It’s only a matter of time before she finds this place.”
“No, we’re safe here. Gettel has magical protections set over the valley.” I point out the window where green willow trees wave in the breeze next to the stream behind Gettel’s house. “Ogres can’t see Beschuttz, and even if they could, they couldn’t set foot in it. Gettel’s wards keep strangers—human and ogre—out. If Crimsin hadn’t sent her beast with a warning to look out for us, we never would have found a way in. The village isn’t even on the map.”
“But what about Ekeeta’s creatures?” Aurora pushes her hands into the mattress, sitting up with obvious difficulty.
“Nothing touched by ogre magic can enter the valley.” I cross to the bed, rearranging her pillows before she leans back. “You should have seen the rats that tried to follow me across the river. It was like they hit a wall halfway across.”
“Rats?” Aurora shudders. “I’m glad I missed that. I’m not a lover of rats. Or bugs. Biting beetles in particular.”
“Afraid of bugs. You’re such a girl,” I tease, perching on the mattress beside her and nudging her thigh with mine.
She laughs, a high, sweet sound that makes me smile. “I am. And I’m not sure you should be sitting in my bed.” She prods my leg with a teasing fist. “It isn’t proper.”
“Proper, my ass.” I stretch my legs out on the mattress beside hers. “You’re like my sister. Your virtue is safer with me in your bed. I’ll scare off any boy brave enough to approach the princess while she is convalescing.”
Aurora’s laughter becomes a sigh. “I don’t have time to convalesce. I’ve already wasted nearly a week. Jor doesn’t have much time left.”
I take her slim hand in mine, warming her fingers, hoping the gesture will make it easier to hear what I’m about to say. “There’s no chance you’ll be able to secure an army in time. You’re going to have to let him go.”
“I know it’s too late for an army,” she whispers, surprising me. I wasn’t sure her stubbornness was tempered with any reason at all. “But there has to be another way. Jor will kill himself before Ekeeta can use him in her ritual. I can’t let that happen.”
“If you’re caught, then it will be both of you lost.” I squeeze her hand. “Your brother wouldn’t want that. It would be a senseless waste.”
Especially if he’s already dead, I think. There has to be a reason Ekeeta is hunting Aurora. Her brother already dead and Ekeeta in need of a briar-born child for her ritual would explain the queen’s determination to bring Aurora in alive.
“I know it’s dangerous for me to go to the castle.” She pulls her hand away. “But I could hire a champion, an assassin or a—”
“Assassins are skilled in killing people, not breaking them out of dungeons.”
“A knight, then,” she says, clearly frustrated. “Or a soldier or a daredevil or a circus performer who can scale the walls! Surely there has to be someone who will attempt a rescue if enough money is involved.”
“Or if they have nothing left to lose,” I murmur, unable to believe I’ve been so dim. Again. In my defense, I’ve been worried about Aurora, not her brother, but now …
“I could try my hand at it,” I say. “I know my way around the castle. I visited Mercar when I was younger and Father still attended Ekeeta’s midsummer celebration.”
Aurora shifts on the bed. “What do you mean?”
“I could try to free your brother,” I say, pulse speeding. Over the past five days, I’ve begun to reconcile myself to being transformed, but transformed and killed are two different things. Still, for all I know, I’d be better off dead than trapped in a bird’s body, with everything that makes me human stolen away.
My brothers, in their swan skin, didn’t care for me. They flew away the morning of their transformations, taking to the skies without a glance back at the family they left behind. Even when I tracked the swan Usio b
ecame to a remote lake near the center of Norvere and found him nesting with nine other birds—ten swans, the exact number of brothers I had lost—he didn’t seem to know me.
None of them did. I was a stranger, a human who sent them flying away with angry honking when I approached their nesting grounds. As far as I can tell, they are completely animal now, creatures without hope or honor or memory or a thought in their head beyond foraging for their next meal.
Wouldn’t I rather die a worthy death than become the same?
“I’ll do it. I’ll free him,” I say, decided. “I’ll at least try.”
“No,” Aurora says, shaking her head. “You’ve already risked your life for me; I won’t let you risk it for my brother. He’s my responsibility. This is my fight.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I’ll be gone soon anyway.”
“No, you won’t,” she says. “Gettel seems kind. Surely she’ll keep you safe from your father.”
“I’m sure she would, but she can’t keep me safe from his curse.” I pull in a bracing breath, knowing the time has come to tell Aurora the truth. “Come sunrise on my eighteenth birthday, the curse will claim me, no matter where I try to hide.”
Her brow wrinkles. “What do you mean? What curse?”
I tell her the story, watching her eyes widen as I describe the way my older brothers were transformed into swans as the sun rose on their eighteenth birthdays.
“That’s why I needed to marry,” I continue. “A few months ago I found the witch who cursed my family and learned there is a way out. The curse only applies to sons in line to rule Kanvasola. If I had removed myself from the line of succession by marrying a girl named to inherit a kingdom of her own, I would have been free. But now …” I shrug again, trying to feel as carefree as the gesture. “I might as well make good use of the time I have left.”
Aurora blinks and I am shocked to see a tear slip down her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be asking that question, Ror.” I pat her awkwardly on the knee beneath the covers, flustered by her tears.
She presses her lips together and nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t tell anyone.” I cross my arms at my chest. “I didn’t want a girl to marry me because she felt sorry for me. I wanted to win a wife based on my own merits, but now it’s too late, so—”
“But it’s not too late!” Aurora pulls one of my hands free and shakes it. “You’re so beautiful it’s ridiculous, Niklaas. Really. I thought you were a god when I first saw you.”
“You were out of your mind on Vale Flowers,” I say, shy for the first time in as long as I can remember. I know I’m nice to look at, but hearing it from Aurora is … strange.
“I was mistaken, not out of my mind,” she insists. “You are the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen. And kind and funny and brave. There has to be a way for you to marry before your birthday. I mean, how could any girl help falling in love with you?”
“I don’t know,” I say with a strained laugh. “You seemed to manage just fine.”
Aurora’s eyes drop to the bed and she releases my hand. “Yes, but I … I’m a unique case.”
“And why is that?”
She catches a lock of her hair and twines it around and around one small finger. “I ruined a fairy boy I loved once. I just … ruined him.” She blinks faster, and I can feel how hard she’s trying not to cry. “After that, I knew I’d never be able to marry. I don’t even allow myself to consider it.”
“How did you ruin him?” I ask, heart going out to her. She’s so hard on herself, even when there’s no reason for it.
“I just … I broke him.”
I catch her chin in my hand. “You can’t break someone who doesn’t want to be broken,” I say, willing her to believe it. “If he decides to recover, he will.”
“No.” Her gray eyes are as sad as storm clouds. “He won’t. And it’s my fault.”
“Well, not every boy is like him,” I say, realizing her stubborn mind is made up when it comes to her fairy boy. “The rest of us get broken and get right up, put ourselves back together, and go looking for someone to break us all over again.”
“But I—”
“And sometimes we’re the ones who do the breaking,” I say, cutting off her protest. “But that’s what searching for love is like. You keep pushing on, breaking and being broken, until you find the person you want to hold safe, the only one who knows how to keep you in one piece.”
She sighs, studying me before she whispers, “I usually hate your advice.”
I grin. “Usually?”
“You’re so flaming smug,” she says, rolling her eyes. “But that …” Her lips quirk on one side. “That was beautiful.”
“I’m a beauty, inside and out,” I say, fluttering my lashes. But Aurora doesn’t smile, or laugh. She simply stares up at me, into me, for a long moment in which I become aware of her leg warm against mine and only the covers between us, of her hair smelling like lavender and honey, and for a second, I wonder …
And then she says—
“I will marry you, Niklaas, but only if you swear never to kiss me.”
—and I can’t help but laugh, no matter how serious her expression.
“The thought is that repulsive, eh?” I laugh away her attempt to explain. “Don’t worry, runt, I feel the same way. But thanks.” I ruffle her hair the way I did when she was Ror and it feels good. Normal. The way things are supposed to be between Aurora and me. “It’s good of you to offer, but we wouldn’t work in that way.”
“No?” she asks, a chilly note in her voice. “Why not? I’m still first in line to Norvere’s throne.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, still laughing. “You’re not upset I turned down your romantic proposal, are you?”
“Of course not,” she says, spine stiffening. “It’s flattering to know you’d rather die than marry me.”
“I’m not going to die. I’m going to be turned into a swan, a lovely white bird with a great long neck and—”
“Oh, shut up and get out of my bed.” She shoves at my shoulder, wincing as she puts stress on her injured arm. “You’re even stupider than I thought!”
Now it’s my turn to stiffen. “You’re right, I am stupid.” I stand, brushing my hair from my face with a clawed hand. “And you’re about as convincing as a member of the gentler sex as I am a sea cow!”
She glares up at me, her cheeks pale but for two bright spots of pink above her dimples. “It is stupid to give up when you still have time to find some ignorant girl to marry you.”
“So she’ll have to be ignorant, too!”
“And it’s stupid not to consider my offer!” she shouts over me. “People get married for reasons other than love all the time, and saving a life is better than—”
“So the incredibly tempting offer still stands?” I ask, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from my tone. “You’d still marry the big stupid oaf to save his poor, dumb life?”
“Yes, you insufferable brat,” she says through clenched teeth, her hands balling into fists. “And believe me, I have absolutely no desire to wed you or anyone else.”
“Good, because I don’t want your pity or your—”
“But I would do it!” she shouts. “Despite the fact that you are ridiculous and—”
“Ridiculous? Well, isn’t that the donkey calling the ass a—”
“What’s going on?” Gettel opens the door and hurries in, sloshing milk from the glass in her hand onto the floor in her haste. “What are you two shouting about?”
“Nothing,” Aurora and I say at the same moment, earning me another glare from my would-be bride.
“It didn’t sound like nothing.” Gettel casts a stern look in my direction. “Really, Niklaas. Aurora is in no shape for a lovers’ quarrel. You know how ill she’s been.”
At the words lovers’ quarrel, I see red. Red with pointy black daggers dancing
about and battle horns blaring in the background. I hurry to excuse myself, aiming my body out the sickroom door before I wring Aurora’s scrawny little neck or say something I’ll regret to the woman who saved her life.
At the moment I’d be happy to ride away from Aurora and never look back, but I happen to like Gettel.
“That’s right, run away!” Aurora shouts after me. “That’s what cowards do!”
I want to spin around, storm back into the room, and demand to know how I went from being brave and clever to an infuriating coward in the span of ten minutes, but I don’t. I pound down the stairs and through the kitchen, where Gettel’s assistant is stirring sharp-smelling medicine on the stove, and out into the end-of-summer day.
There is a hint of autumn in the air, a bite to the breeze that carries the sour scent of leaves ready to change through the valley. I break into a run toward the barn, focusing on the sun on my face and the hills still green with summer grass, refusing to think about Aurora or autumn or the fact that the fifteenth of Nonstyne is only eight days away.
CHAPTER TWENTY
AURORA
“I’m sorry.” I glance at Gettel as she unlaces my nightgown to take a look at my arm. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
Gettel laughs. “Don’t worry, pet. I just didn’t want you hurt. I understand what it’s like to be young and in love. Things don’t always run smoothly, do they?”
I feel my cheeks heat and am glad it’s only Gettel in the room. “Niklaas and I aren’t … We’re friends.”
“Of course you are,” she says, unrolling the bandages covering my wound. “All the best lovers are friends.”
My cheeks burn even hotter. “No, I mean …” I clear my throat. “He thought I was a boy until a few days ago. He doesn’t … It’s not like that.”
“Ah … well then … that’s interesting …” She hums beneath her breath as she probes the skin around the place where the arrow punctured my flesh. It aches a bit, but the pain isn’t nearly what it was. “You heal too quickly, my girl. What exactly are you fairy-blessed with? If you don’t my asking?”
