Of Werewolves and Curses by Emma Hamm

Chapter 4

They trailed the Summer Lord into the Summer Castle, past the giant stairwell overrun with flowers. Freya stared up at the mosaic on the ceiling as they passed, and she remembered the fear she’d felt the first time she was here. Sneaking through the palace and hoping that no one would find her.

The elves were terrifying to her then. Their masks didn’t cover enough of their smooth faces. And she so greatly feared what they would do if they found her.

Of course, none of them had. It had been the Goblin King to find her in that strange room with its single stairwell leading to nowhere. How could she ever forget his fingers trailing up her spine? It was the first time they’d ever touched skin to skin.

A tremble shook through her shoulders. Without even looking at her, Eldridge put his hand on her back and mimicked the movement he had used when he helped tighten the corset. Almost as though he knew what she was thinking about.

He distracted her the entire time it took them to get to the small office. The warm colors of blues and golds caught her attention, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Eldridge’s hand. He smoothed his thumb at her waist and she couldn’t focus. Not on the Summer Lord. Not on what they had to do. All she could think about was him and his damned fingers.

Eldridge had to tell the entire story to the Summer Lord. And when he was finished, they were dismissed to a private room until the Lord decided whether or not he wanted to help them.

She was just pleased to get out of everyone’s eye. She was going to combust if they didn’t give her a little privacy with the man she loved.

The man she loved whom she hadn’t told yet. But someday soon she would say it. She would tell him how much she loved him and just how much he meant to her happiness.

When they finally got into the room that looked like the inside of a clamshell, Arrow snarled. “I’ll be back. You two obviously need some time with each other and I can’t stand it any longer. You were much more fun when you weren’t...” He gestured up and down with a paw. “This.”

The dog left the room and then she was alone with Eldridge again. She stared up at him, silhouetted by the bright sun through the glass doors that led out onto their private balcony. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good. Like he was still put together while she was falling apart.

“Were you distracting me on purpose?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“Maybe. I enjoyed your reactions.” The expression on his face was far too smug. “Besides, I know the story as well as you do. I could tell it while you were trying to hold yourself together.”

Freya stomped her foot in frustration. “How dare you? I should have been the one to inform him about my father!”

“You were preoccupied with your thoughts.” He shrugged and reached for her like he was going to tug her into his arms. “And I find that I quite like you when you’re distracted. You’re adorable when your cheeks are that red, you know that, don’t you?”

She slapped his hand. “What did you even say? And did you cast some kind of spell on me or something? I don’t remember any of it.”

And that was terrifying. Freya didn’t know why those memories or thoughts were gone, but they absolutely were. She couldn’t remember a single thing Eldridge had said, only that he was talking about her father and slowly tracing the bumps of her spine the entire time.

“I told him all he needs to know, and that was it. You can tell him more later if you want.” Eldridge walked over to the bed and laid down, lifting his arms over his head as pillows. “But I thought maybe you would want a diversion in the meantime.”

“I think I’ve been distracted enough for one day, thank you very much.” Although, he was very tempting all laid out like that. She wanted to lick him from his knees all the way to the top of his head, but they didn’t have time. “How did the Summer Lord respond, though? Does he have any idea where my father might be?”

Eldridge sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “No, Freya. No one knows where he might be, but that’s all right. We know the greatest likelihood is that he’s here, isn’t it?”

She supposed. But that wasn’t quite good enough for her. Not when there was an opportunity here to meet with the Summer Lord and find out so much more information than they already knew. If the werewolves used to live here, then surely the Summer Lord had texts that were filled with more knowledge.

“Are you going to sleep the day away?” she asked. “What about finding the Summer Lord’s library? We could at least see if he has any more volumes that might give us a few more clues.”

“You can try to leave if you want. He made it very clear that we weren’t wandering about his castle when he didn’t trust us.” Eldridge gestured toward the door. “Go ahead, though. Be my guest.”

Ominous. Freya strode to the door, opened it, and nearly bumped into the back of the giant elf who stood on the other side of the door. He turned back to stare at her, his mask covered in the scales of a lizard. His eyes were blank from emotion and the terrifying mask was enough to send her back into the room with a swift slam of the door.

“Right,” she muttered. “Apparently I won’t be going to that library after all. But really, what is a room full of books going to do? It’s not dangerous for me to be in there.”

She turned around, wondering whether there was another exit, only to find that Eldridge had disappeared. There wasn’t even an indent on the bed where he had been lying.

And had the room changed? The walls weren’t quite right. At least, not like she remembered. Perhaps it was the sheen of color that was different.

The most glaring change, however, was the balcony itself. No longer were the windows looking out toward the sea, but into another room. The seashell quality of the walls changed to a shimmering green, and she didn’t think it was a bathing area.

“Eldridge?” she whispered. The magic inside her stretched, seeking him out because she feared losing him forever if she didn’t. “I need you here with me, now. I think something in this room is trying to hide you from me.”

She felt him trying to find her. His magic was just so far away from her that it was hard to latch onto. But he’d taught her how to find him. No matter the cost to each other.

And in this strange, shimmering room, Freya feared she was in a lot more danger than she realized.

She reached out in her mind’s eye and tugged hard. She pulled him through whatever barrier stood between them and felt him doing the same. Together, hand over hand, they fought to be beside one another again.

Finally, she saw the faint outline of his shadowy form. Freya held out her hand and felt him touch her fingers. With one final heave of energy and power, she pulled him through the veil and into the room she’d been transported to.

Eldridge was breathing hard, sweat slicking his brow. “What was that?” he snarled.

“I have no idea. One moment I was in our room, then I closed the door and suddenly, I wasn’t there anymore.” Freya turned fearful eyes toward the balcony that should have been looking out to see. “And the room changed. Quite a bit, actually.”

He followed her gaze and blew out a long breath. “That’s not supposed to happen.”

“I can’t imagine magic is ever supposed to happen. But what do you think it is?” Freya touched a hand to his shoulder. “Did the Summer Lord curse us?”

“No,” he replied. Then he shook his head and cleared his throat as if he were trying to pull out of a memory. “I mean, I don’t know if he cursed us. He might have. But the forest, Freya. That’s what is not supposed to happen. The forest is part of the Summer Lord’s magic. It’s an advisor, of sorts. And it isn’t supposed to appear for anyone but the Summer Lord himself.”

“Oh.” She looked to the trees and fear made her heart race again. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It isn’t.” He took a step toward the balcony, only to be shoved back by the same magic that had tried to hide from him. “I don’t know why it’s fighting me. I’m the Goblin King. I’m here to help the forest and those it serves. I don’t...”

Freya understood.

It was plain and simple. The forest didn’t want to speak to the Goblin King. No one could argue the truth of that fact as the forest shoved him back yet again. The trees wanted to speak with someone. They had a story to tell, but it was not the Goblin King who should hear it.

“I think it wants to speak to me,” she whispered.

A sudden wind caught her words and echoed them back through the air. But this time, the sounds were warped. “Speak to her,” it whispered.

Eldridge looked at her, then the balcony, then shook his head. “No. You can’t go in there alone. I’ve never even been inside that forest, and I have no idea what might wait for you through those doors. It’s too dangerous.”

“As dangerous as fighting the Goblin King? Or killing the Winter Princess? Perhaps as dangerous as finding out the Spring Maiden was lying?” Freya approached the doors, completely unhindered by the magic. She gave Eldridge a sad smile. “Or maybe you meant it’s more dangerous than seeking out a werewolf.”

“Freya.” He reached out his hand for her, struggling to lift it as the magic shoved him again. “I’m begging you not to do this without me.”

She looked back to the room beyond the balcony that turned more green as she watched. Leaves broke through the seashell texture of the walls, and she could almost hear a voice calling out to her. It wanted to speak, and she didn’t think denying the forest what it wanted was all that smart. In fact, she’d argue it was rather foolish to deny the trees anything. After all, they’d been here a lot longer than either Freya or Eldridge.

“I don’t have a choice,” she whispered.

She gave him one last look, just in case it was the last time she saw him. She could see how much this was killing him.

“Freya,” he growled one last time. “There’s too much left unsaid between us. Let me come with you. We can fight against this magic if we’re together.”

She felt the power of that forest pressing against her back. It was shoving her toward the doors, pulling at her very soul until she felt it slip underneath her tongue and waggle the appendage for her. “I don’t want to fight it,” she whispered. “I want to hear what it has to say.”

“Freya!”

His shout echoed in her ears, but she couldn’t stop herself. Freya reached for the handles of the balcony doors and pulled them open. They were light in her grasp, oiled perfectly so there wasn’t a sound at all other than the Goblin King’s shouting.

And then the doors were open and she couldn’t hear him anymore. All she could hear was the sweet song of birds in the distance. The calm sound of wind rushing through leaves. Golden light spilled through an emerald canopy, and the whispers of the trees could barely be heard.

“She’s coming,” they said. “She has to take one more step and then she’ll be here. Hush. Don’t say too much. Not yet, he might still hear us.”

These ancient beings desired to speak with a girl from the mortal realm. Such an honor couldn’t be ignored. Freya looked behind her at the chaos in that in-between place.

Eldridge fought against the magic with everything he had. Shadows coiled around his fists and undulated like waves behind him. Lifting a hand, he pounded on the invisible barrier that stood between them.

If she gave him enough time, she knew he would shatter the forest’s magic.

The Goblin King was a powerful man. He wielded magic with an iron fist.

She couldn’t give him that choice. Freya took one more step, felt moss squish beneath her feet, and closed the doors firmly behind her.