Flame and Starlight by Dana Isaly
Chapter Three
I awoke to fractured sunlight and sore bones. I stretched as gently as I could, but my muscles screamed with every fragment of movement. I blinked slowly and tried to remember where I was. Did I black out last night? I looked at the cream linen sheets wrapped up to my chin. I didn’t recognize the sheets or the room.
“Oh good! You’re awake.” I jumped at the voice and sat upright, ready to bolt. But my head was staunchly against any type of escape and gave me a lightning bolt of pain to convince me to sit still. Everything that happened last night came crashing back into my memory. “Whoa, girl. You’re going to be sore and tired for a few days after what you went through.”
A small older woman carried over a tray filled with food. She had long grey hair that was tied off to the side in a braid. She sat the tray down at the foot of the bed, and when she came closer, I could see a slightly pointed ear that her hair was tucked behind.
“My name is Mavka, but you can call me Mav. I’m here to make sure you’re fed, bathed, and resting. I’m not a healer, but he will be here soon, and I will take care of you as best I can.”
I was frozen in place, not daring to move as she grabbed the covers and fluffed the pillows behind me. She pulled the tray piled high with food over my lap. My panicked mind was sifting through all the stories I had been told about these supposedly mythical creatures. The food wasn’t safe to eat for mortals, right? I vaguely remembered a book that talked about the food creating a drunken effect on our minds. She touched my shoulder, and suddenly, feelings that didn’t feel like my own washed over me: concern, curiosity, and a little taste of impatience. I jerked away from her.
“Relax, I’m not going to hurt you. Eat up. It’s safe, and it’ll help you heal.”
I settled back into my own panic and confusion over what was happening and looked down at the array of food in front of me. There was so much to choose from: pastries, fruit, muffins, coffee, tea, and a glass of juice. I lifted a muffin to my nose and sniffed. It smelled like sweet blueberries and nothing strange. My stomach let out a growl, demanding I eat it. I took a small bite, and it practically dissolved on my tongue. I must’ve let out a small grunt of happiness because I heard a quiet laugh come out of Mavka across the room.
“Once you’re finished, there’s a hot bath ready for you in the bathing room. That door there,” she said and pointed at the wooden door across the room. “I’ve laid out some clean clothes for you to change into next to the bath. Go ahead and change into those and get back into bed and rest until the healer comes.”
I finished the muffin as she spoke. “Why am I here?” I swallowed a drink of tea. “Who was that guy last night? Is this a dream? Like, am I on drugs and hallucinating?”
She stopped halfway out the door and raised an eyebrow. Anxiety tended to give me word vomit.
“So many questions. You’ll get your answers later, but yes, this is real, as I’m sure you suspect. And there are guards out here, so don’t try and run.” At the mention of guards, my breakfast almost came back up.
“The guy that brought me here, Asher. Is he always such a prick?”
She laughed quietly under her breath. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.” And that was it. She was gone, and I was left on my own in this new and very strange place. A very strange place that my mind couldn’t begin to comprehend. Sifting through the many memories I had of my mother, I picked out all the ones where she spoke of the Fae: incredibly long lives, powers beyond my imagination, and skies the color of cotton candy. As a kid, I might have believed them, but as I got older, the novelty wore off. I just started to believe she was eccentric, a storyteller. Clearly, I was wrong.
I stood up out of bed so very slowly and walked over to one of the windows. It seemed like this place was placed right in the middle of dense forest. It was a steep, sharp fall from my window to the snowy ground below. All I could see were evergreens on all sides heavily blanketed in freshly powdered snow. It was morning, and the sun was shining in that pale, hesitant way it does in the winter. But in the light blue-and-pink cotton-candy sky, I could still see the faint shimmer of stars.
I turned around and surveyed the room. In front of the bed was a fireplace, still crackling and smelling of hickory, and a couple of deep chairs sat in front. To the left of the fireplace was the door that led to the bathing room, and to the right was a small vanity and mirror. I had no inclination to look at myself and see the state I must be in. I made my way to the bathing room and slowly opened the door. Tendrils of steam curled out around my feet. The biggest bathtub I had ever seen took up almost half the room and pressed up against a window that showed off the steep drop to the forest below. This bath would easily cover me up to my shoulders as I sat in it. I quickly closed the door, suddenly feeling sticky with sweat and the dirt from the river. I peeled off my dress from last night and practically jumped into the warm water.
My muscles almost instantly felt more relaxed. I found a bar of soap sitting on the side and lathered it up, breathing in the fresh scent of eucalyptus and lavender. When I began to rub the soap up my arms, I saw the bruises. Kisses of blue and purple, fading into black, and the size of fingertips, marking where he had grabbed me. Asher. I craned my head back, sinking my hair into the water, and hissed as it came into contact with the cut on my temple. As gently as I could, I massaged and cleaned my hair. Once I was done, I laid my head on the corner of the bath and closed my eyes, sinking into the water as deep as I could.
I lay there and waited for the tears to come, for the panic attack to creep its way into my chest. But it didn’t. A very small part of me, I realized, felt like this place connected me with my mother once more. I closed my eyes and thought of all my friends, probably wondering where the hell I got off to last night. Would they be texting me? What would happen when I didn’t show up to classes or work? What would happen with my student visa? There was no one to miss me back in the States. But my friends were my family now. And what would they think when I just stopped showing up and their messages weren’t returned?
He had told Ashley to give them an excuse. Had Ashley been in on this whole thing? Would she give them an excuse that would keep them from worrying for a day? Two? A week? Months? What had made Ashley do this? She was one of my best friends. She was part of my family. Had he threatened her?
A soft knock on the door brought me out of my spiraling thoughts. The bathwater was suddenly cold, and I shivered against the gooseflesh on my arms. “Yes?” My heart kicked against my chest.
“Just me, dearie.” Mavka’s lilting accent came softly through the door. “The healer is here if you can go ahead and get dressed and pop on out for us.”
“Um, okay,” I answered back and slowly climbed out of the bath, taking a towel off the radiator on the wall. I quickly dried myself off, wringing my hair into the towel, and hung it back up on the radiator to dry. The oil inside clicked and popped, and that soft noise made me think of my cozy flat back in England. The radiator on the wall next to my bed was constantly cracking and groaning when the heat was turned on.
There was a pair of dark leggings, a very large cream sweater, some underthings, and fuzzy socks sitting on a stool. I put them all on, relishing in the clean laundered scent. I opened the door and peered out into the bedroom.
“If you’ll just come over here and sit next to the fire, he can look at that head of yours.” Mavka was suddenly upon me and leading me over to the fireplace. I breathed a sigh of relief as she motioned but didn’t touch me. I didn’t know if it was a Faery thing, me feeling what seemed like her emotions, or if it was just her, but I did not want to experience that again.
Standing next to the fire was a tall, rail-thin male in an old brown cloak. I walked over to him, and he motioned for me to sit on the chair next to him. He peered down at my temple, not touching it but studying it for a long moment with his unnaturally green eyes before he stood straight again and walked over to the vanity where a bag sat on the chair.
“It’s not too deep of a cut, so you shouldn’t have a scar. The lump is going to be the most painful thing,” he said, rummaging through his leather satchel. “Gently rub this cream on the cut a couple of times a day, and it will be healed in a few days.” He handed me a tin jar. I opened the lid and gave it a small sniff. It didn’t really smell of anything and looked like lotion. With a quick bow, he slung his satchel over his shoulder and left the room.
“Here,” Mavka said, taking the tin. “Let me put some on for you.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Mav. Thank you. But I’d prefer to do it.” She shrugged and handed it back to me. “Put that on right away. I’ve sat a cup of chamomile tea on your nightstand. Drink that and try to get some more sleep.”
I knitted my brows and looked up at her. “Was I brought here to just sleep?”
“Rest first, answers later. Traveling between the realms really takes it out of you the first time. You’ll be able to sleep, trust me.” She smiled and made the creases of her deep blue eyes crinkle. “I’ll be back later.”
I walked over to the vanity and took a breath to steady myself before taking in my face. There was a nasty cut from the mirror that started at my hairline above my temple and slashed crookedly down to my eyebrow. God, it could’ve blinded me. The bruise around it was a sickly mixture of blues and greens that reached across my forehead and even down past my cheekbone. Other than that, I still looked like myself, just a bit tired. And then a glimmer on my neck caught my eye. I pushed my still-wet hair back off my shoulders, and there was a bluish dust, just like Asher’s, that settled itself over my neck and down onto my right shoulder. I wiped at it roughly, but it wouldn’t move, like it was tattooed there. What the—
“Okay, I am going to worry about that later,” I said aloud and opened the small tin of cream. As gently as I could, I dabbed some of the cream onto my cut. There was a brief moment of stinging before it settled in, and then a lot of the pain in my head subsided. I hadn’t even realized I was clenching my jaw until I could finally relax it.
Mavka wasn’t wrong. After that bath and with the pounding in my head easing, I was feeling sluggish. I made my way back over to the bed that had been made and looked to have fresh sheets on it. I peeled them back and threw myself in. The smell of clean laundry and lavender cocooned me, and I didn’t even have time to drink the tea before I drifted off to sleep. Strangely, for the first time in a long time, my anxious thoughts didn’t talk me into a stupor. It was finally quiet.
* * *
Mavka softly woke me up much, much later in the day. The pain in my head was back but definitely not as bad as before. I stretched and slowly sat up in bed. Looking out the window, I could tell that the sun was on its way down.
“I’ve slept all day?” I asked her while she poked the fire around and added some logs.
“Takes it out of you.” She disappeared into the bathing chamber, and I heard her digging through the chest in there. I leaned over to try and see what she was doing, but she quickly returned and laid out a dress on the foot of the bed. She looked at me, and I raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to dine with him, and before you ask, yes, he is going to explain.”
“This dinner requires a dress? Can’t I just wear what I’m wearing?”
“You’ve been sleeping in that all day. And yes, you’ll dress appropriately for a dinner with the High Lord.” My stomach fell through my butt. High Lord? Like a King? “Up you get,” she said as she started to fold back the sheets.
“I’m twenty-two, Mav. I can dress myself.” She ignored me and told me to undress while she grabbed the dress off the bed. I sighed and resigned, realizing she wasn’t going to leave it. She unzipped the heavy-looking dress and gently bunched it at my feet for me to step into. The fabric was cool against my sleepy skin as she pulled it up and over my hips. How they knew what size I was, I had no idea.
It was strapless with a low sweetheart neckline and so blue it almost looked black. It shimmered in the firelight. After she had it hooked and zipped it, it was actually quite light. I didn’t think I would have the problem of needing to constantly tug on it like other strapless dresses I had owned. She pulled out flat silver slippers from under the bed and gestured for me to put them on. When I pulled the dress up to slip them on, I caught sight of the bruises on my arm again, five little blue-black cherries. A sliver of anger skirted up my spine.
“Here, it’ll be a bit colder out through the corridors. Put this on.”
I slipped into the bright white fur cloak she had retrieved from the wall next to the door. “It’s very brave of you to trust me in white. I’m not known for being the most careful person.”
“We can clean anything,” she said with that warm smile returning, crinkling at her eyes. “One of the guards, Emric, will take you to the dining room.” She crossed the room to the door, and I hesitantly followed her. Grabbing the tin off the vanity before I left, I dabbed a bit of the cream on my cut. The pain instantly receded this time.
“Emric,” she said around the corner of the open door. “She’s ready. Best get going before she’s late.” Still shaking the sleep off, I walked out the door.
“Miss Alys,” he said with a short nod. “I’ll be taking you to dinner.” He was tall, almost as tall as Asher. But Emric had dark brown hair, and his deep, tan skin was void of any dust. His long locks were pulled back into a haphazard bun, showing off his pointed ears. He had tattoos that were similar to Asher’s on his neck, but I couldn’t tell how many he had since every inch of his skin was covered in uniform. I met his violet eyes and smiled.
“Lead the way.” I gestured out with my arm. The cloak slipped, and my bruises made an appearance. I quickly sheltered my arm back inside. I had no idea why I was trying to cover them up.
Because they make you look weak,I thought to myself.
Emric held out his arm, and I took it. His uniform was thick and woolen and scratched at my arm. A few minutes passed in silence as we made our way down this hall and that hall. I felt like I would never begin to remember how to get to and from anywhere in this place.
“So, how old are you?” I blurted. I could feel the color rise in my cheeks at my boldness. But my mother had told me they lived for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. So I was curious.
He let out a short laugh. “That is an incredibly random and slightly rude question, Miss Alys.” I looked up at him, and even though he was staring straight ahead, he was grinning like I amused him.
“My mother told me that you’re immortal, or close to it. And I’m curious. I think I’m owed a couple of questions here and there after I was thrown into a mirror, tossed into a river, and literally stolen from my home.” I shrugged but eyed him out of the corner of my eye, seeing if my guilt trip had worked. He sighed.
“I’m three hundred and twenty-eight,” he said.
“Practically a child, then,” I said, trying to disguise the shock on my face. He tipped his head back and laughed.
“Yes. Practically a child.” He looked down at me. “Any other questions you’d like to get out before going in there with the man himself?”
“I think it would be more fun to save them for him.” We came to a grand set of doors at the end of a brightly lit hallway, more guards on either side.
“I wish I could stay to watch that,” Emric said as the guards in front of us opened the double doors. Soft heat flooded out and warmed my face. “I’ll be back to get you.” He nudged me forward, and I walked into the great room.
Great was an understatement. It was enormous. The floors were a glimmering black, and on each end of the room were fireplaces that had to be taller than me, both cracking and snapping with heat. The wall across from me was all glass and framed a mountainside covered in thick snow under the pink-and-blue sky. The stars shone brighter now in the evening sun. All around the walls of the room were soft cushioned chairs coupled together with small tables in between. But in the middle of the room was a large, imposing table, with too many chairs to count as I stood there, my eyes flitting from one thing to another. And at the head of that table, dressed in all black with a smirk resting on his face, was Asher.
“Hello, little duck.”
