All I could do was wait.
“I never thought I would be so thankful for a hole in the ground,” Glen said, making me laugh.
The hole in the ground he referred to was where we relieved ourselves. The hole had been carved down through the thick rock in the corner of our cell and, to my surprise, led to an underground river.
Being trapped in the dark cold cell was bad enough without having to deal with the smell of waste. I truly was thankful. Not that we needed to relieve ourselves often. Queen Euna seemed determined to starve us both to death.
The water rushing past beneath the ground was something else to be thankful for. Not only because it carried waste away, but also because it provided us with a distraction and something to listen to.
As we sat, leaning against each other for warmth, I let my mind wander. I imagined the water rushing through rocky tunnels for days and days. Emerging somewhere along the coast which Malcolm and Bonnie loved to tell stories about, or perhaps down at Loch Fai with Finnian.
Trapped in the silent cell, without a window or visits from guards, we had no way of knowing how much time had passed, or what day it was.
All we had was the flowing water. The only proof that life was continuing outside of our cell.
“I reckon that in a few days we will be skinny enough to jump through and be washed away from this prison,” I commented which made Glen laugh.
Either of us fitting through that hole would be a cause for concern, it wasn’t big enough to fit a leg through.
“Knowing our luck, it would wash us back down to the Fairy Forest. We’d be back under that fairy’s enchantment before we could blink.”
“At least we would be outside,” I complained. “I can’t believe I am missing wind and rain right now.”
“Aye, suddenly a boring life trapped on da’s farm doesn’t seem quite so boring after all,” Glen sighed, squeezing my hand.
“We will make it home...” I replied, not sure whether I was making a promise or asking a question.
“We will make it home,” Glen confirmed. “Just as soon as we can fit through that hole.”
As the time passed, during what we assumed was our second day in the cell, our hunger grew. I found myself imagining everything we had left in our bags.
The rolls would still be quite soft and if I focused, I could imagine sinking my teeth into one of them. The thought of the tough salted beef lying somewhere in the castle was enough to make my mouth water.
Our stomachs had been grumbling unhappily for a while and when I placed my hand on mine, I was sure it felt much flatter than before.
Soon it was hard to think rationally about the time passing, or how hungry I was, as the pain in my head had grown to a level I could no longer ignore. The water running beneath us had stopped being a source of comfort. Earlier, Glen had punched the wall a few times in desperation, and I didn’t blame him.
It was torture, being so close to water but unable to drink any of it. If I’d had any water left in my body I would have cried. My mouth was dry and my lips were so sore and chapped that I didn’t think they would ever heal properly.
Despite our empty stomachs and raging headaches, Glen and I told stories to pass the time. We talked about our journey so far, trying to remember every little detail, just in case we made it out of this prison and had the chance to tell our families about it.
The thought of home, my ma and da, my brothers, my Granny and the twins made my head hurt even more as I tried not to cry.
If we starved to death in this prison they would never know what happened to us. I imagined them at home, their eyes darting to the road, hoping to see us return. Eventually giving up as they realised we weren’t coming home.
Noticing my darkening mood, Glen attempted to cheer me up.
“Just think about seeing Finnian again, that’ll make you feel better.”
“The thought of someone I knew for less than two weeks and only kissed once does not make starving to death in a cold prison any easier to cope with,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes. Though I appreciated his effort.
“He was an attractive someone,” Glen insisted.
Rather than respond I lay down beside him, patting his stomach sympathetically as it growled and complained.
I woke groggily sometime later. The rock-hard floor made my back ache and my cheek was sore from being pressed into it whilst I slept. To make things worse, my thighs still ached from our ride north with Swift.
My only source of comfort was Glen’s warm body beside me. I rolled over to face him, the sudden movement making my vision swim and blur.
I lay there for a few moments and realised something was missing. My head no longer pounded as if someone was smashing a hammer around inside my skull. Instead it had faded to a dull ache.
I still longed for a drink of water, but food didn’t hold the same appeal as it had the day before. Had the Queen opened the door and thrown in a freshly baked loaf, or even some of ma’s stew, I wouldn’t have made any moves towards it.
Food was such a distant memory that I reckoned I could go on without it forever.
“I’m so empty,” I mumbled, my voice sounding raspy and dry as it broke the silence.
“If I had any, I would probably drink my own piss right now,” Glen replied seriously.
“If we don’t starve and die in this cell, I am telling your brothers that.”
“Donal and Dougal would bloody love that,” he agreed.
We lay there uncomfortably for an unfathomable amount of time until I felt Glen’s chest hitch beneath my cheek as he began to cry.
I stared at his slightly blurred form in confusion for a few moments, trying to make sense of what I was seeing in the dark. Glen never cried. Well, he did cry sometimes, but I couldn’t think of a response.
Fortunately, he didn’t wait for my poor hungry mind to catch up. Instead he lifted me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me.
“We are going to die here,” he whispered in between hoarse sobs.
That thought had been lingering in the back of my mind since we were first locked in this prison. All of a sudden it was terrifying and I found myself dissolving into tears as well. Apparently, my body wasn’t dry as a bone after all.
“I’m sorry I brought you here,” I whispered.
“I would rather starve to death with you than anyone else,” Glen said, which startled a dry laugh out of me.
The rest of, what we assumed was day two, passed much the same. Glen switched between sarcasm and crying until eventually he wore himself out and managed to get some more sleep.
Whilst I did my fair share of crying, I felt otherwise emotionless about our situation. I couldn’t muster up the energy to feel as much regret as I did the day before.
Soon I found myself falling back asleep. It was odd how tired doing nothing was making us.
The next time I pried my dry eyes open, I didn’t bother moving. I could feel Glen’s warm body beside my own and that was enough.
I lay on my back, mindlessly running my fingertips over the cold hard rock beneath me, listening to the water rushing below us. I felt almost content.
Glen too seemed a lot more enthusiastic after his emotional breakdown the day before.
“They will probably come for us today,” he explained sitting upright beside me.
He glanced over at the door every few moments, saying something about weakening the defences of prisoners before they were questioned. I didn’t try too hard to follow what he was saying.
He propped himself up against the rough stone wall and pulled me so that I was sitting between his legs. Resting back against his chest.
I let him move me like I was a child, before laying my head back down on his shoulder and closing my eyes.
“Tired,” I mumbled hoarsely and felt my lips crack and bleed in a new place.
My throat was sore now, not just from the lack of water but from sickness. As a changeling, I had spent much of my childhood sick with va
rious colds and once a cough so violent, da had had to abandon his farming to travel to the town to find a healer for me.
My head felt heavy and I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering.
“I’ll tell you another story about the village while you rest,” Glen said, wrapping his arms around me to keep me warm.
3 YEARS AGO
“I am going to punch you if you don’t stop pacing,” Munro complained, only half joking.
We were perched on one of the stone walls that divided our fields from the neighbours. In front of us, Malcolm had been pacing up and down and up and down for what felt like hours. Just watching him made me feel exhausted and I doubted it was doing him any good.
Malcolm stopped and stared at us, as if only just remembering that we were watching.
“Bonnie is having a baby.”
Munro and I groaned dramatically.
For months, Malcolm had been overjoyed about their child. That was until Bonnie started feeling pains in her stomach and went into labour.
Ma had quickly thrown us out of the cottage with instructions to fetch Glen’s ma, Martha, and his eldest brother’s wife, Ceitidh.
All night and all morning Munro and I had to put up with Malcolm’s ridiculous behaviour which included pacing, blurting out that Bonnie was giving birth and staring ominously into the small bonfire we had lit to attract the Others.
To my relief, Glen and his brother, Donal, came ambling through the grass towards us before Munro started punching.
“You better get back up to the cottage Malcolm,” said Donal.
To which Malcolm paled worryingly and ran off in the direction of our cottage.
“I was so close to punching him right in the face,” Munro said far too seriously.
“Your da would have punched you in the face if he heard that you punched Malcolm in the face on the day that he became a da,” Glen laughed.
We spent the rest of the morning sprawled on the grass. Once the baby was born it would be hectic on the farm. Ma wouldn’t let Bonnie lift a finger until the baby was least a month old, so I was anticipating us all having a lot more work to do.
Glen and Donal had brought out a few boiled eggs, some bread and a jug of water, which was blissfully cold, so we ate lunch whilst we waited.
I felt confident that the Others were watching our little cottage that day. The weather was unusually warm with barely a cloud in the sky. It made a pleasant change from the grey skies and rain that we were used to.
My skin grew hotter and hotter as we lay there and I hoped that the new baby would be enough to distract ma from the four of us getting sunburn. If not, we would spend our afternoon out collecting honeysuckle flowers to bathe in it.
The four of us dozed lazily until da appeared, shouting for us to come back. We scrambled to our feet and raced back to the cottage. Unsurprisingly I came last, panting and wheezing.
Another fire had been lit outside the cottage. This one, da explained, was for the afterbirth to stop any wicked fairies getting it and using it for magic. The explanation made Munro heave loudly beside me.
The moment ma stepped out of the cottage, looking haggard and tired, her eyes drifted to our sunburnt noses and foreheads with a frown. To my relief, she didn’t say anything about it.
We were ushered inside and what I saw made me squeal in delight before I could stop myself. Bonnie was reclining against Malcolm and in her arms she held two perfect little babies.
“Twins!” Munro blurted out.
“Two baby girls,” Malcolm explained, prouder than I had ever heard him before.
His eyes were pink as if he had been crying and I couldn’t blame him. The sight of the two healthy, squirming babies made me want to cry as well.
It seemed the Others had noticed our fires and truly blessed our little family.
As was tradition, da placed a shiny coin in each of the babies’ hands and a kiss on their foreheads. It was hoped that beginning life with a coin would ensure that they never went without.
“What names have you given them?” Granny Athol asked.
The most important tradition, other than bathing the new borns in milk, was to name new babies quickly. It was thought that a baby named quickly couldn’t be affected by fairy magic.
For obvious reasons, I didn’t believe in that tradition. Ma and da had picked my name before I was born, and still their original baby had been stolen.
“Morag and Mildred,” Bonnie said, her eyes never leaving the two little babies in her arms.
The announcement was met by cries of happiness from ma and Glen’s ma, which woke the twins. We were quickly herded out of the room to let them rest.
Malcolm would stay with Bonnie for the next few days, to ensure that Morag and Mildred were never left alone, and never replaced with changelings. That wasn’t said out loud, but we all knew the reason.
Instead of pestering Bonnie and Malcolm, we squished around the fire our cottage. The rest of Glen’s family coming to join.
That night we feasted on a thick vegetable soup and, as per tradition when a baby is born, bread and cheese flavoured with caraway seeds.
PRESENT DAY
By the end of the story I felt like the room was spinning uncontrollably around us. If I had anything in my stomach I was sure I would have vomited.
Instead, I found myself retching painfully whilst Glen rubbed my back and tried to comfort me. Once my body had stopped I found myself cradled in his arms once again.
“They will come for us soon,” he promised, nodding to himself as he spoke. His eyes focused on the wooden door.
As I watched him watching the door my vision began to blur. It had been blurred the past few days, but now it was fading fast.
I tried to shake my head, to clear the specks of light that were blocking my vision, but that just made me dizzy.
Distantly I could hear Glen speaking, his voice sounded loud and panicked. I felt as if I had finally slipped through that hole and was submerged in the river.
I opened my mouth to tell Glen that I couldn’t see, and about the water, but all I managed was a hoarse breath.
U nlike the King, who would hold court in the great hall in front of hundreds of people, I preferred to meet with the Lairds, Ladies and common fairies in a small private room away from everyone else.
Without pressure from their fellows, and the fear of being overheard, I found that everyone I spoke with was more truthful. Whilst I still despised being Queen, I was finding common ground with many of the fairies who visited.
My hopes for a fairer Culhuinn seemed less like a distant dream with each passing day.
William, Adair and the castle’s master of coin, Drummond, were the only people who joined me during these meetings. I was initially wary of Drummond, having never even seen the fairy before. Adair assured me that he could be trusted and shared our views when it came to the changelings and the treatment of our human servants.
As the days passed and the meetings continued, everyone eager to meet the new Queen, I began to appreciate the new company. Drummond was younger than I expected, and had the ability to find amusement in the dullest of afternoons.
When the door opened for the next meeting I was surprised to see Berwin. It had been weeks since I last visited the stables, and he looked dreadful compared to my memory of him.
His curly hair was lank and looked unwashed. His skin was clammy and he fidgeted nervously in front of us, refusing to take the seat I offered him.
I remembered his meeting with Nieve that I’d overheard and wondered if perhaps she had sent him here. She was still avoiding me, but the sight of Berwin in front of me lit the first spark of hope in weeks. A spark which flickered and died as soon as he spoke.
Berwin dropped to his knees and with a shaky voice said, “I have a confession to make.”
“Tell me.”
My heart pounding in my chest as panic, which I had managed to avoid since the King died, crushed my hope.
“I poison
ed the King, the Queen and you,” Berwin blurted out.
With a shaking hand, he brought a small vial out of his pocket and placed it on the stone floor in front of him.
I felt my jaw drop. The murder of the King and Queen was the last thing I’d expected him to confess to. I didn’t feel upset by this admission, nor did I feel one ounce of anger towards him. I was simply astounded.
I glanced at William and was glad to see that he looked equally as shocked by the news as I was. Drummond was making himself appear busy, not wanting to get involved.
It was Adair who regained his senses and spoke first.
“Why did you do this?” He asked softly, not a trace of anger in his voice.
“It had to be done,” Berwin sounded uncomfortably close to tears.
“I am sure you did not work alone to poison them. I doubt it is you alone who is responsible for the murder of the King and Queen.”
“It was me.” Berwin said through gritted teeth.
His insistence only confirmed my suspicion that he was taking the blame for the murders, to hide his accomplices.
Adair nodded thoughtfully, “why did it have to occur?”
“With the old King and Queen dead we humans will finally have a chance at freedom.”
“Alright my boy,” Adair said soothingly. “It was brave of you to come forward.”
“Have you confessed to anyone else?” William asked, to which Berwin shook his head. “Then you will come with me down to a cell, where you shall wait until we come to a decision.”
Berwin nodded, looking paler than before but somewhat resigned. He stumbled to his feet and followed William to one of the smaller doors which led down to the prison.
William now had power over the guards in the castle. He had appointed those he trusted to many of the important roles, ensuring that we knew what was happening throughout the castle, and could control it.
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