Chapter Twenty-Six: Emma Endless
1252 Words
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
EMMA ENDLESS
Everything hurt.
They had placed me on a bed, in a tower. When I woke from the sleeping potion the Godmother had given me, I had heard her angrily arguing with Oberon.
“You don’t know what you’re asking!” Godmother hissed.
“I’m not asking, I’m demanding,” Oberon replied coldly, “the summer court declared war on my wife. She is hurt, as long as she is in fae, she cannot be healed.”
“Allow her to go home then!” Godmother said. “They can fix her there. Do not take such drastic action.”
“If I allow her to go home, I will lose her,” Oberon said, “I have come too far to lose her.”
I wanted to sit up, to make myself known, but every movement I made was painful still, despite whatever healing potions Godmother had been making me drink. I knew that she had been making me drink something. I had vivid images of her speaking in soothing tones to me, ushering strange liquids down my throat.
“You might be the King, your majesty, but I am the healer. The Godmother. Even you must acquiesce to me sometimes. I have been given divine right.”
“From which God?” he said tersely. “The God that cast us out, rejected us? The goddess that never dares show her face? We are godless, faithless creatures who answer to none but the power that resides in us. If there is a god, make him me, your King, and f*****g begin the ceremony.”
“What ceremony?” I croaked from bed.
Oberon looked at me, with wide, fearful eyes and something else…. a flicker of relief. He rushed to my side, getting down on his knees so that he was level with me. He took my hand in his, kissing my knuckles. “My sweet, I’m so, so, sorry. But the magic of this world, it won’t allow for us to heal you the way that we want to. But there is an alternative…a way that I can make it so that you are never hurt, ever again.”
“No,” I said sharply, “no.”
“Emma, you haven’t even heard my suggestion.”
“You made me a bargain, Oberon. You’re supposed to honor those. I am supposed to have your child and be able to return to my life. If you turn me fae, I will never be able to return home.”
His eyes narrowed. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. Years ago, I was promised a wife in exchange for the wealth and riches I provided your grandfather. I have been lenient with your family. Very, very lenient. But I will have my Queen, one way or another, whether you accept the role willingly or not.”
“I don’t….” my voice faltered. “I don’t understand, you said…the bargain.”
“I agreed to let you go and told you that you were free to do as you wish. I made no such promise as to where you would go, or what would happen to you, or how involved or not involved I would be with that process. And you agreed that after the child was born, I should let you go, to make it as though you were to never exist.” He stared at me steadily. “Nor did we agree as to how that would happen, or what state you would be let go in. It has not been a year, and the bargain has not been complied with. I had hoped to do this the easy way, but if you choose to do it the hard way my sweet, I will happily oblige. That’s the thing about faeries, love, you have got to be very specific. For we don’t lie, but we do love our loopholes. And I can find a million of them to force you to do as you wish.”
I swallowed. “Oberon, please….”
“Let us not forget, my dear Emma, we’ve Mr. Taylor to consider as you will recall.”
I glowered at him. The hope, the possibility of a happy ending that he had dangled in front of me, turned into a mangled, dark thing with those words. I would never love Oberon. Never want him, as long as he made threats against Ben. “You promised,” I said.
“As did you,” he reminded me, “now what will it be, my Queen? Your life, or Mr. Taylors?”
I said nothing, and stared up the ceiling, helpless. He had me. He knew that he did.
“I’ll give you some time to mull it over,” said Oberon, “but these chambers are far too spacious for that. I suspect a change of scenery will help you decide.”
He stood and bent to pick me up from bed. He carried me, bridal style, from the room. As we left, I locked eyes with The Godmother. Her brown eyes steadily met mine, and a look of understanding crossed her face.
I had no idea what authority the holy woman did or didn’t have in faerie, but I knew if anyone could save me, it would be her. “No awakening,” I mouthed to her as Oberon carried me. She didn’t so much as flinch or show that she understood.
All she did was give me a hard look.
But I knew she understood.
I had no choice but to cling to Oberon’s neck as he carried me, the gesture annoyingly intimate. He stroked my back, trying to soothe me, still attempting to appear for all the world a caring, and devoted husband.
We made our way up the stairs in silence, until we reached what I knew to be a tower door. He placed me on the small bed inside.
“I will check on you in the morning,” he informed me, “perhaps by then, you’ll have reconsidered your options. Oh, one, more thing.”
“What?” my voice came out raspy, from not having spoken for so long.
“I left you a present, for you to see outside. I found Hecate, and we were able to track down the summer court soldier that did this to you. I thought you might like to see his head. On a stake. You’ve a perfect view from your window.”
“I…” I shook my head. “I thought fae couldn’t die.”
“Oh, we can’t. But we can still torture and cut each other limb from limb.”
I looked out the window, and there, on a stake, was the head of a man who stared directly back at me with wide, fearful eyes.
“Rest well, my sweet. I’ll be back for you in the morning. Or whenever you decide to change your mind.” He kissed me on the forehead, and left me in the bed, whistling merrily as he did before slamming the door shut.
The last sign of him was the locking of it.
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