Forever

by Chanda Hahn

  Every inch of her wanted to fight and defy him, but if surviving was a possibility—if holding back her anger could help—she had to rein that in. She’d told Nan she was going to survive.

  Teague wouldn’t admit it, because he preferred looking cruel and in control. But he saved her life, gave her a second chance. She wasn’t sure why he’d done it, but she hoped it was because part of him was still good.

  She had seen it in her vision. Good still existed in him. She just needed to find it.

  “How’s your hand?” He turned away from her, clasped his hands behind his back, and pretended to talk to the wall.

  “It’s fine.”

  “And how do you fare?” Again without turning around.

  “Fine as well.”

  “Is that the only word in your vocabulary?” He spun, the irritation across his face obvious.

  Which just set her off. “I don’t know. I’m sure there’s a lot of really interesting vocabulary words I’d like to call you right now, but somehow this dungeon doesn’t seem like the ideal time and place to let loose those choice words.”

  Teague started to laugh, and he didn’t stop. “There! That’s the fire and the wit I remember.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t extend my life just so you could have intellectual battles. But then again, I’m sure you get plenty of stimulating conversations with the ogres each day.”

  “You have no idea why I did what I did!”

  “No, I don’t,” she yelled back. “So explain.”

  “I plan on making you suffer like I suffered.”

  “I don’t understa…”

  Teague had vanished.

  ***

  He came again hours later for more of the same. Taunting and teasing—they battled with wits and words. It became a frustrating habit, actually. Each time, Teague riled her until they were yelling at each other, and then he’d disappear, leaving her miserable.

  She’d stared at the Fae light that floated above her cell and realized she could make it dim or glow brighter with just a thought. She had spent her hours trying to make the wall open up like Teague had and escape. But it must be warded against her, because the only thing she could actually control in her whole cell was the Fae light.

  After another few hours, she grew hungry. Her stomach growled, but she wasn’t going to beg for food from Teague. She was too proud for that.

  The light above her disappeared into the wall and left her in darkness.

  “Hey wait!” Mina called out in shock. But then she stopped herself. She could handle being in the dark. She wasn’t scared.

  Minutes later, the Fae light reappeared, floating just above her as if it had never left. The bricks in the wall folded out to reveal a slot, and a tray of food appeared. As soon as Mina took the tray, the bricks moved back and formed a solid wall again.

  The meal was simple—bread, a sweet grain mixture similar to oatmeal, and warm cider. For prison food, it wasn’t half-bad. Mina finished the food and then put the tray by the wall and stretched out on the straw. She fell asleep only to wake up with a familiar sensation. There wasn’t a toilet in her cell.

  “This is so embarrassing.” Mina wanted to cry as she looked around for options.

  Again, the Fae light bobbed and floated through the wall. When it returned, the bricks shifted to reveal a door.

  This was the first time a door had appeared. Mina wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she had a feeling the light had responded to her current need. She tried the brass pull handle, and it opened to reveal a simple water closet to relieve herself, along with necessities like soap and water. Mina took way longer than she needed and used the soap and water to scrub her face, hands, and as much of her body as she could reach. She didn’t have a comb, so she did the best she could, running her hands through her long brown hair to pull out the snarls.

  When she came out, the closet disappeared.

  That became her daily routine. Mina would sleep on the straw and then spend hours talking to herself, pondering aloud what had happened to her friends and family. Was Teague leaving the human plane alone? When he didn’t come to torment her, that was its own special torture—she assumed he was destroying her plane as she sat there helpless.

  Her plane? There was a good part of her that wanted to go and explore the Fae world and learn about her mother’s family. She had learned all she wanted to know about the Grimm line, but she desperately wanted to know about her mother’s parents. Were they still out there? Did she have cousins, aunts, uncles?

  Only twice did she give in to her sadness and cry over the loss of her mother and brother. She missed them terribly, and after days, even wished for Ever’s company. When she thought she’d been in the dungeon over a week, she almost began to miss Teague and his temper.

  Mina amused herself by creating a game of sorts with the straw. She would bend a piece around and around creating a ball, which she would hold between her finger and thumb on her left hand and then flick with her right at a brick on the far wall. She even scratched a round target onto the brick.

  She flicked the ball at the target.

  Teague appeared and caught the ball midair.

  “You know that almost hit me.” He looked at the crumpled straw in his hand.

  “Oh no, you were almost impaled by a piece of straw and died,” Mina said. “Too bad.”

  “It wouldn’t have killed me.” Teague frowned and discarded the homemade ball.

  “Oh, bad sportsmanship, minus two points.” She picked up another straw ball and took aim at the target. She flicked it, and it hit low on the target.

  Teague stood off to the side, watching her as she played her game. She didn’t ask him to join in, even though she kinda thought he wanted to. He seemed really interested in just watching her. He even made a chair materialize, so he could sit comfortably. He didn’t speak.

  After an hour, he disappeared again.

  He appeared again the next afternoon when she was scratching another target on the wall. She turned around, and he was next to her with his own pile of straw balls—his were green. He picked one up and flicked it at her. It bounced off her forehead, and she flinched.

  “Two points.” Teague grinned and reached for another ball.

  “I’m not the target.” Mina pointed at the second one, higher up the wall. “That is.”

  “Could have fooled me. I’m winning, two to zero,” he crowed.

  “My game, my rules.” She kneeled in front of her stack. She’d had a feeling he would appear today just as she was setting up the game. “Zero-zero.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. But she could see the challenge light up his eyes.

  She didn’t want to admit it, but she was excited at the prospect of beating him.

  “And no cheating,” Mina remembered to add at the last minute.

  Teague’s shoulders wilted a little at the reminder.

  They took turns aiming and flicking their balls at the targets, and since she had never played the game two-player, they had to argue the change in rules extensively and loudly. Teague frequently demanded that he was right, but Mina reminded him she made up the game, so choosing the rules was her prerogative.

  “You want to decide the rules, make up your own game.”

  His eyes flashed a darker blue.

  “Maybe tomorrow will be the day I take your life,” he warned before he disappeared.

  He didn’t come back the next day, and Mina didn’t feel like picking up her straw game again. She even broke up all the balls she’d made into smaller pieces of unusable straw.

  Sleeping on the straw was getting tiresome. It was itchy, uncomfortable, and it gave her a rash, but she’d never tell Teague that. At least the straw kept her inches away from freezing to death. Still, it poked and prodded and kept getting under her clothes.

  Frustrated, she finally decided if she froze to death, she froze to death. She wasn’t going to ask Teague for help. She moved to sleep on the stone. At first, she was fin
e and fell asleep easily without the poking and prodding of the straw, but sometime during the night, her teeth started to chatter. The Fae light dimmed and relit, but she didn’t stir.

  She vaguely remembered the sound of bricks scraping against each other. Someone lifted her and carried her up stairs. She didn’t open her eyes to see the warm person who carried her. Instead, she might have snuggled against his shoulder.

  She heard a curse and received a nuzzle in return. He placed her on something soft and laid a blanket over her. Bricks scraped again.

  When she awoke, she studied her new prison. It still lacked a door and window, but it had a bed—a real four-poster bed with a sapphire blue coverlet. There was even a pillow. Mina squealed in delight and hugged the satin pillow. The bed was so wonderful that she couldn’t hold back the tears. She looked around the cell and noticed more. There was a small, square table with two chairs and a chess board, another end table with a bowl of water and a glass, and even a few books.

  It was so glorious after her weeks in the dungeon, she felt like a princess in a palace. This time, when she needed to use the water closet, the wall opened to reveal a very large bathtub, full with warm soapy water.

  Mina happily spent the next few hours soaking in the tub, scrubbing her skin raw. She soaked her wrists under the water, and the iron cuffs clanked against the tub. She tried to rub her skin beneath the enchanted bracelets, and it felt soothing.

  The whole thing was soothing. Mina even went so far as to drain the water and refill it with bubbles and soap, so she could soak a second time. She dunked her head under the water and held her breath, imagining what it was like to be a siren. It was hard to imagine something other than the cartoon-mermaid version, but she knew better than to imagine that. She tried to picture her mother as a young mergirl with a tail—desperately in love.

  What had it been like for her mother to give up her tail to be with her father? No matter how she imagined it, it didn’t seem real. She couldn’t envision her mom as anything other than the normal, overly petrified mother who worked as a house cleaner. That didn’t suggest powerful siren, and yet she had seen Charlie scream. His call was so powerful, it cracked the magic ward around her. How come she hadn’t gotten that gift?

  Suddenly, two hands reached into the water, grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her up through the bubbles.

  Mina gasped in shock as bubbles ran down her face. She sputtered and splashed in the water when she realized Teague was in the same room as her. Mina quickly checked the bubbles, glad to see the tub was still full of them. They were high enough there was no way he could see anything.

  Teague stood there, furious, his shirt and pants soaking wet and covered with bubbles.

  “What are you doing in here?” Mina yelled at him. “Get out!”

  “Not until I’m sure you’re not drowning yourself in the bathtub!” He flicked the bubbles off of his arms and tried to roll up his wet sleeves. Water dripped from him and puddled all around him on the stone floor. A moment later, his face paled and then turned bright red. He spun his back to her.

  “Of course I’m not drowning myself! I was only under for a few seconds.”

  “Few seconds! A few seconds. More like a few minutes.”

  “That’s impossible,” Mina answered.

  “No, it’s not!” he pointed up at the Fae light that bobbed up and down. “You had been under for five minutes. “I’m not sure if a Siren can even stay under that long. The Fae light wouldn’t have alerted me if it didn’t believe you were in danger.”

  It was certainly clear she’d upset him. She wanted to get out, but she couldn’t with him in the room. “Can you hand me a towel?”

  Teague’s shoulders hunched as he tried to look to the side to find a towel for her, but he realized how undignified it was. In a fit of temper, he blasted through the wall and left her in her warm tub of bubbles alone.

  The Fae light bobbed up and down, visibly distressed.

  “You’ve been spying on me?” Mina accused it in an annoyed tone, even though she had assumed it was. The light bobbed sadly in affirmation. “Shame on you.”

  The light softly dimmed.

  Mina couldn’t hold a grudge against her silent light protector, so she quickly added, “It’s fine, just… is there no one else for you to go to for help but him?”

  The light dimmed again, and she assumed that meant no.

  “What about guards? Are there guards?”

  The Fae light brightened in an affirmative.

  “So can you go to them?”

  The light dimmed. No.

  She tried to not show her frustration as she dried off and went back into the room with the large towel around her. The Fae light danced for joy by her bed. Mina was pleased to see clothes—clean clothes. Teague hadn’t provided a red dress this time, like he had during the betrothal process, and she was thankful he remembered.

  Chapter 20

  Mina was getting used to long days of solitude. She didn’t know day from night anymore, because she just slept whenever she was tired, and the Fae light would dim.

  So maybe she hadn’t been in the prison that long, maybe it was just days instead of weeks. She couldn’t really judge it by her meals, because when she ate Fae food it was quite filling.

  She started to talk her little Fae light, since it seemed to understand her, or at least blink and flicker in response to her questions. And it seemed to anticipate her mood and needs pretty quickly.

  One time she actually mumbled out loud, “I’m actually starting to miss his company.” The light began to head for the wall, and Mina stopped it. “Don’t you dare tell him. Remember he’s the one who wants to make me suffer and punish me. Don’t let my soft side fool you.”

  The light bobbed and flickered up toward the ceiling. She thought it seemed awfully dim and wondered if maybe she had hurt its feelings. Look at me, worried about a magic light’s feelings! The imprisonment must be getting to her more than she thought. Teague was watching out for her. All she had to do was wait and he’d come…eventually. Hopefully before she starved to death. Still, it was hard to not get depressed and worry about how many days or nights she’d live before he’d put an end to it.

  It was also hard not to worry about Charlie.

  The time for eating had long passed, and the wall opened up with another tray of food. Mina ignored the tray and curled up in her bed and waited until the food disappeared. A few hours later, another tray appeared with even more appealing food. The smell of roasted chicken, spices, and fruit tempted her to move from her bed, but she didn’t give in. The tray moved from the wall to the small table in her room with invisible hands.

  Mina just closed her eyes and pretended it wasn’t there. An hour later, the food was gone. Her stomach grumbled with hunger, but it was easy to forget about it with sleep. Sleep and hunger were interchangeable in her book.

  The sound of the bricks moving told her there would be another attempt to coax her to eat. And then the smell of her favorite food wafted to her nose—homemade dumplings and chocolate cake. Back home, Mina would never tire of eating them, but this time? They didn’t make her hungry. They only made her miss her Godmother more. Tears filled her eyes.

  “Please stop it. I’m not hungry.” Mina spoke out loud to the room. “Make it go away.” This time it didn’t take hours. It took seconds for the tray of food to disappear with the scraping sound.

  “Thank you,” she whispered softly to no one.

  Her Fae light dimmed.

  “Are you dying?” His irritated voice spoke in the darkness.

  “No.” Mina rolled her eyes, but she wouldn’t turn to look at him. She didn’t know where in the room he was anyway.

  “Are you sick, then?”

  “In a way.”

  The Fae light illuminated the room, and she could see Teague standing next to her bed looking down at her. He wore pants, brown leather boots, and a green long-sleeved tunic.

  “Well, get better,” he d
emanded, as if that command alone could solve her problems.

  “I’m homesick.”

  “Oh.” Her answer seemed to startle him. “Of course you are. You’re in my prison. You’re here to be miserable.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

  “And I am.” Mina rolled over on her other side, so she didn’t have to look at his face. “Why would you tell me to get better? Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”

  “Yes?” He answered as if he doubted his answer. The bed dipped as he sat next to her. She heard his long drawn out sigh. “I think so,” he said.

  Silence followed. The bed shifted again, and she turned her head to see that he had made himself comfortable. His boots were crossed at the ankles, his right arm cushioned his head, and his left lay across his stomach. He stared up at the ceiling.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m relaxing.”

  “In my bed?”

  “No my bed. The bed is mine. That rug is mine, the chair is mine. It’s all mine.” He turned to look at her, and she saw a glint in his eye. “You’re mine.”

  “Only because of this.” She held up her wrists to show him the iron cuffs. By now she’d grown accustomed to them and could ignore them, but she hated what they represented.

  “So you’re saying if I removed them, you’d leave?”

  “No, because I promised I wouldn’t. To save my friends. I’ll stay here with you forever, or until you chose to end my life.”

  “But you’re unhappy.”

  “I’m lonely, and I miss my brother.”

  “Why do you miss him?”

  She closed her eyes and counted backward from twenty as she tried not to snap at him. “Because he’s family, and I love him. Haven’t you ever missed someone so much it hurts?”

  He didn’t answer her right away. “Yes, and as you’d say, it drove me crazy.” He turned on his side and leaned his head on his elbow studying her. “Why do you think I’m not happy?”

  “You can never be happy, because your heart has been poisoned by the dagger.” Mina turned back, unwilling to look at him while he relaxed in her bed. It may be his cell and his prison, but he was invading her sanctuary, her bed, and she didn’t like it.