I squeezed my eyes shut so I didn’t have to see Kelly’s face. I couldn’t bear to see the disgust in her eyes. I spun on my heel, opened my eyes a crack, and fled the room.
Corbin caught me in the hallway. “What happened in there? You were yelling.” Rowan and Arthur stood behind him, looking at me in concern.
“Kelly and Jane is what happened. They were kissing.”
Corbin smiled. “Like, sexy kissing? Wow.” Behind him, Arthur grinned.
“You can wipe those stupid looks off your faces. They were kissing, okay? Like it meant something.”
“So your sister has feelings for someone of the same sex? Why is it that a problem for you?” Corbin’s eyes looked dangerous.
I gripped his shoulders, digging my fingers in to accentuate my point. “It isn’t that. You know it isn’t that. It’s the fact that she didn’t tell me. This is a paradigm shift for Kelly. She grew up believing that homosexuality was a sin. And now she’s kissing a girl and she didn’t even come to me to talk about what that means.”
“You mean, the same way you couldn’t go to her about us?” Corbin said gently.
I opened my mouth to yell, but all the fight whooshed out of me like a deflating balloon. Shit. He’s right. The way I feel now is exactly how Kelly’s been feeling ever since she arrived. And if I add that to what Corbin was saying before, about her being jealous… maybe I get it.
Shit. I’ve been a total bitch and a hypocrite.
I tore myself from Corbin’s grasp and raced back to the Great Hall. “Kelly, wait, I’m sorry!”
But there was no one there. Jane and Kelly and Connor were gone. The front door slammed. I ran into the entrance hall and threw it open, just in time to see the two of them struggling to drag Kelly’s large backpack across the courtyard toward Jane’s beaten up old Fiat.
They must have already been packed and ready to leave.
“Kelly, please stop. I didn’t mean—”
“I hate you, Maeve!” she yelled after me as they raced under the portcullis. “I never want to see you again.”
10
ARTHUR
“Whoa, easy!”
Sweat streaked Maeve’s face, plastering her long pink bangs against her skin. She stepped back and swung the sword again, winding the blade through her hands like it was made of cardboard. Metal clashed against metal, and it was all I could do to hold the cross while she forced her weight against my blade.
“Are you sure you don’t need a break?” I gritted my teeth as her superior position forced my weapon aside. The tip of her practice sword slid dangerously close to my face. We disengaged, stepping back and preparing to go again.
“Nope.” Maeve raised the blade, her eyes blazing. “Again.”
We’d been drilling and fighting for two hours. Unlike our other sessions, Maeve had hardly spoken. I knew she was upset about Kelly leaving, but unlike Corbin I didn’t have the conversation skills required to get her to open up. She knew that, which was why she’d come to me demanding a sword fighting lesson with metal reenactment swords (with blunted edges). After all, I was the expert at fighting my way through my pain.
Our swords clashed. This time Maeve’s arm spasmed, and my blade slid down hers, hitting her on the shoulder. “Ow!” She dropped her sword and clutched her collarbone.
“Shit, Maeve. I’m so sorry.” I tossed my weapon aside and ran to her. “Let me look.”
“It hurts,” she moaned. I pried her fingers away from the spot. Her pale skin was already starting to bruise. She winced when I pressed the spot, but it didn’t look like anything was broken.
“I really am sorry. Come sit down.” I scooped her into my arms and laid down against our favorite apple tree, wrapping my arms around her. She fought me for a few moments, but then she settled against me, resting her head against my chest. My heart beat beneath her, my chest inflating like a balloon.
“It’s not your fault,” she grumbled.
“Do you want to talk about—”
“Nope.” Maeve grabbed my arm. Before I could stop her, she’d torn up my sleeve, revealing my cuts. “Tell me about these,” she said.
“Don’t change the subject,” I croaked out.
“You sound like Corbin. He’s already made me talk the Kelly subject to death. I want to think about something else. Namely, why my favorite medieval knight is hurting himself.”
“I told you, I cut myself sharpening my sword.”
“Bullshit, Arthur.”
I shrugged, shuffling away from her so she couldn’t feel my heart pounding against my chest. “It’s not a big deal.”
“As your High Priestess, and your girlfriend who loves you, I’ll be the judge of that. Spill it.”
“You love me?” Slipped so casually into her scolding, the words threw me. Your girlfriend who loves you. I’d never had one of those before. Never in my whole life did I imagine that someone like Maeve could feel that way about me.
“Of course I do, you fool. Which is why I want to know what’s going on with you.”
“You’re going to make a big deal out of it, like Corbin does. He thinks it means I’m thinking like Keegan, but it’s not that at all.”
“What is it, then?” Maeve traced the cut across my skin, running her fingers over the layers of parallel scars.
She loves me. She loves me.
Maybe if she loves me she’ll understand.
My chest fluttered with hope.
No, this is stupid. I stared down at my arm. The scars dominated my vision, moving in and out of focus. Looking at them in the light made my stomach squirm. I wanted to turn away, but I didn’t want Maeve to think I was weak, that I was ashamed.
Maybe she’ll understand. This is who I am. I’m not ashamed. This is a completely normal thing lots of people do.
“Sometimes when I get upset or angry, I’ll make a little cut on my skin. The blood reminds me that I’m in control over myself, my body.”
Maeve’s fingers squeezed my skin. “Jesus, Arthur.”
“It’s really not a big deal. It’s not a suicide attempt. They’re just surface cuts. It’s a little nick to remind me that I’m real.”
It sounded so stupid when I said it out loud.
Maeve shook her head. “You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“Why did you come out here today to swing your sword around? You don’t feel in control of the situation with Kelly. So you came out here to assert some control. Same thing.”
Maeve rubbed her neck. “Yeah, but when I got hurt, it wasn’t fun anymore.”
I looked up then, into her eyes. They widened into shimmering pools of mottled blue-green, shining with hope and desperation and love… A lump rose in my throat. She’s looking at me, right inside me. She sees me.
“Most of your scars are old.” Her words came out in a whisper as she brushed her hand over my cuts again. “You haven’t cut yourself in a long time. But those two cuts are recent. What’s going on?”
“Oh. Well, I did one when I found out about you and the other guys. I wanted to join in, but I couldn’t. I did the other one after the church.”
“Why?”
“Because all those people died and I couldn’t save them.” I slid my arm out of her grip and rested my hand on the hilt of my sword. “I failed, and that failure was impacting my ability to protect you, to be what you needed. One small cut and that feeling went away.”
“So this is me?” Maeve’s eyes swam with sadness. Her gaze make my stomach queasy. “I’m making you feel like this?”
“No.” I clamped a hand around her arm. “That’s not it at all. It’s just a thing I do. It’s really not a big deal. I’ve never really hurt myself.”
“Yet.” Tears sprung in the corners of her eyes, all that emotion spilling down her cheeks.
I knew what was going on here. I’d been with her in Arizona when she had to sit with Kelly in the hospital after her suicide attempt. She was thinking exactly like Corbin did, that t
his was me crying out for help. She thought she needed to save me, when really it was the other way around.
“Hey, hey,” I wiped the pink streak of hair off her forehead. My chest felt heavy, like some bastard was standing on it in heavy Doc Martens. “Don’t be upset. I’m not going to leave you. I’d never dream of leaving you. I just need this sometimes.”
Maeve sniffed. “I don’t like it, Arthur.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to. Maybe when this fae thing is over with, I’ll go talk to a doctor about it.” Unlikely, but if it made her feel better… “Now come on, let’s go back to our drills and forget this whole conversation, aye?”
Maeve glanced over at her sword lying in the grass. She shuddered. “Actually, I don’t think I want to practice anymore.” She scrambled to her feet. “I think I’ll just go back inside, see if Corbin’s found anything in his books. Bye, Arthur.”
“Do you want—” but she was already running back toward the castle.
I slumped down beneath the tree, staring at the cuts on my wrist, hating myself for telling Maeve about the scars.
I scare her. The woman I love is afraid of me.
The rage inside me flared, the heat against my skin rising to an unbearable temperature. The worst kind of hatred – the kind that turned inward, at myself. I hurt Maeve.
My pulse pounded in my ears. I balled my hands into fists, fighting to contain the fire.
“Oh no, you don’t,” I growled, shoving my hand into my pocket and pulling out my pocket knife. I flipped open the blade. A fleck of sunlight peeking through the apple tree caught the stainless steel.
They don’t understand. Warriors bleed. My blood makes me strong.
I placed the knife against my skin, slashing a deep cut over the scars. Red welts flashed into front of my eyes as my blood trickled down my arm. The stinging pain hit the wall of heat inside me, and the fire fizzled out as my attention focused on the blood. See? I’m stronger already.
11
MAEVE
“Kelly, it’s me, again. I know you’re not picking up because you don’t want to talk to me, and I get it. I’m just wanted to say I’m sorry again. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said and you’re right. I’ve been treating you like crap, and I want to fix it. I want to fix us. I’m going to give you some space but I really want you to call me back so we can talk. Please. I love you.”
I hung up. In my lap, Obelix yawned leisurely and rolled over, presenting his fat belly for rubbing. I obliged him with shaking fingers while I dialed Jane’s number. She answered after two rings.
“Jane, I—”
“Fuck off, Maeve.” The dial tone buzzed in my ear.
I clicked off the phone and tossed it at the bookshelf. It hit the spine of a tarot-reading guide and bounced on the rug, sliding into a square of moonlight pouring in from the window behind Corbin’s desk. Obelix shot me a filthy look and stood up, jumping down and going over to bat the phone with an inquisitive paw.
I glanced up at the moon, noting how only one thin edge was cut off by the dark of space. Only eight days left until it was full, until the Slaugh could begin their ride across the earth. My skin itched to do something, to grab Daigh around the neck and shake him until he called off the attack, or break down the door to Jane’s cottage and force Kelly to listen to me.
But there was nothing to do but wait, and think, and hope Kelly forgave me.
I slumped down in Corbin’s wingback chair, frustration welling up inside me. Corbin had gone to the Great Hall for supper, leaving behind a stack of magic books with Post-its sticking out of every second page. He’d been working all day while I’d been arguing with Kelly and interrupting lesbian action and finding out the horrible truth about Arthur’s cuts.
Arthur. Oh God. What is going on in that thick skull of his? When I told him I loved him, he looked shocked, completely flummoxed. Not like Flynn – not scared of his feelings – but completely unable to believe that he was worthy of being loved. And he was hurting himself… my beautiful warrior was slashing at his own skin so he’d be strong for all of us. That was completely messed up.
I needed to find a way to help him, to make him see how much he was loved, how he was enough just as he was, and that it wasn’t his responsibility to save the world on his own.
Aline moved across the room, the hems of the jeans she’d borrowed from Rowan dragging along the rug. She picked up the phone from under Obelix’s feet and turned it over in her hands. “Remarkable thing. What does this button do?”
“That opens up the browser.”
“Browser? Like the internet? You have the internet on your phone?”
“Yeah.” I took the phone off her and scrolled through the apps so she could see. “This little baby does all sorts of amazing things. This one lets me make text messages and share photos with my friends. This is the NASA app that sends me pretty pictures from space. This is an interactive star chart. It’s not for astrology,” I confirmed as I saw her face light up. “This one claims to turn my phone into a geiger counter but it’s not accurate enough to be useful. And this one lets me make video calls.”
“Just like Star Trek?” Aline’s eyes widened.
“Um… yeah. I guess so.”
“If you have this phone, then why can’t you just video call your sister – by Astarte, it’s really weird to think of you as having a sister – and let her see how sorry you are.”
“I tried that, but she won’t pick up on the app, either. You just swore by Astarte? That’s the name of Clara’s store in town—”
“Astarte is the ancient goddess of sensual pleasure, fertility, war, and destruction. Love and hatred, violence and sex were her forte. She was worshipped in the Eastern Mediterranean before the Greeks co-opted her, took away her warlike attributes, and transformed her into Aphrodite. She’s my patron goddess.”
Interesting. I thought of my own cursing, which I must’ve learned from Kelly and other kids at school. “I never thought about it before, but I always say ‘Oh god’ or ‘What the hell?’ or ‘God help me.’ The guys say ‘bloody hell’ or ‘you wanker!’ and I like those much better.”
Aline grinned. “Why choose a patriarchal god as your own, when our faith has a matriarchy that extends back to the earliest human civilizations?”
Because he means a lot to my parents, I thought about saying. I didn’t have any more attachment to a female goddess than I did their god. I didn’t consider magic a faith. It was science… sort of. Basic Newtonian laws applied – every action having an equal and opposite reaction, etc. Gods and Goddesses meddling in the lives of humans were just make-believe. But I was too fascinated by the discussion to argue with Aline. It was a welcome distraction from worrying about Kelly. “What goddess would be good for me?”
Aline thought for a moment. “Athena.”
“She’s a Greek goddess, isn’t she?”
“That’s right – Athena protects the city of Athens, which is named after her. She’s also the goddess of philosophy, which is as close as I can get to a science goddess because the two things were one and the same until very recently. She helps many heroes to complete their quests,” Aline raised her eyebrow toward the door, indicating the guys. “And she also presides over war strategy, but she much prefers to use wisdom to settle disputes.”
I nodded. “Okay, I like that. Athena it is.”
“You can pray to her for guidance on what to do about your sister,” Aline moved toward the desk. “I’ll show you a spell you can use—”
“No thanks. I don’t pray.”
“Our gods are not the same as the Christian—”
“Yes, they are.” I jabbed my finger at the ceiling. “Magic I can believe in, but there isn’t anyone up there answering prayers.”
“Maybe you just never asked the right question.”
Jeez. I rolled my eyes. This subject is now closed forever. “What about you, then? No motherly advice for me about dealing with Kelly?”
“You’re kidding, right? I’m only a few years older than you, and I was your mother for exactly three-and-a-half hours before I pretended to stab you and sent you off to an orphanage. I’m not exactly a fountain of maternal wisdom.”
“Good point.” I leaned back in the chair and crossed my legs on top of the desk, shoving off the top volume with my toes. Obelix yowled as a corner landed on his tail. He streaked from the room, padding off down the hall to find his favorite people – Arthur or Rowan. “I just wish I could do something. Between this and waiting for the Slaugh to strike, my stomach’s a big bag of knots.”
“We can do something,” she said.
“If you’re suggesting we speak to Daigh, the answer’s still no.”
“You’ve had a day of hunting through the books. Do you have a better idea?”
“Not yet. But we don’t know that we can’t use the belief power to stop the Slaugh.”
“I guess we don’t,” she said brightly. But her voice said it all. “You could ask Daigh about his DNA, you know.”
“What?”
“You want to know if the binding is real, if you really have inherited power from Daigh. If you throw your DNA science in his face, maybe threaten to tell this Liah fairy about it, he’ll beg you to let him take the test.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that was a stupid idea, but I couldn’t make the words come. I imagined Daigh’s face when I told him he couldn’t possibly be my father. How his entire plan centered around my ruling beside him. I saw what Aline saw – the chance to crush his ego and open up the weakness we needed.
Plus, if he gave me DNA, I could actually get it tested. I’d know once and for all what scientifically tied me to him.
“Fine.” I sighed. “We’ll try it. I’ll do anything at this point.”
Aline’s eyes danced. “You mean it?”
“I do.” I slid my legs off the desk, knocking several heavy books onto the floor, and called out into the hall. “Guys, could you come to the library?”
From the room at the end of the hall, Arthur let out a loud moan. “I was trying to sleep.”
The Castle of Wind and Whispers Page 7
