Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

To my surprise, Ossian didn't leave me to my own devices in the courtyard. Instead, he settled himself behind me on the ground, his long legs framing my crossed ones, his hands flat on my knees. Such a position normally would've set my pulse a-flutter and sent a longing pang deep into my abdomen, but nothing about his posture relayed that he was feeling amorous. Arrayed around us was a crescent-shaped cluster of potted autumnal plants. Surely Flora was running out of terra-cotter planters by now.

"Remember how I told you to draw from the inside, rather than externally? This time, when you take from the plants," he instructed, "truly bond to your tree first. Even if you cannot fully fuse with it, keep one hand on it at all times. Be a conduit, Meadow. It is not you siphoning, but your magic. You are merely the bridge. And when the plant's life energy comes into you, direct it into the tree. Don't let it go wherever it wants, understood? Let you magic decide where it is best used."

I nodded, too nervous to speak. Ossian had never stayed before—was this because of our quarrel before? Was he showing me the deference and respect I'd asked for? Had Daphne been right, that all we'd needed was a little communication? While half of me rejoiced, the other half of me was terrified he'd find Sawyer hidden in my foraging bag, which was tucked away in my lap. The fae king had only looked at it with a disgruntled expression but hadn't said anything. Yet.

"I'll watch and direct you," the fae king said, hands gripping my knees just a little bit tighter. "Let me in, love."

When he didn't force himself, his consciousness flowing down the channel of our fated mate bond was uncomfortable but painless, just something eerie, like the feeling of a vaccine diffusing beneath your skin. Instead of joining him as a spectator of my cursed oak tree as I normally did, I placed my hand on the trunk, fingertips hooking around the lip of the knotty hole I'd noticed only this morning. I was a highly observant individual by nature, so Violet's chastisement from earlier had stung. Perhaps it was a recent development instead of an oversight, a consequence of becoming . Regardless, it was very clearly the heart of my tree, and while I was curious to look inside to find the source of the golden glow, I refrained. No, not with Ossian here. This was something private.

"Begin, love. Take from just one plant."

I obeyed, the grounding technique I'd adapted to my hands making the process easier than ever before. As instructed, I focused on drawing inwardly, from the oak tree, pulling its magic and need through my body and out through my fingers curled around the white aster. Then I waited, narrowing my focus on the knotty heart.

Please, friend, I implored it. We must do this.

Silence.

Not for him. My resolve tightened with the declaration. This is for us. Only us.

Silence.

Then it came.

Thud.

My heart swelled.

It was a slow drumbeat, but it was there. Cursed as it was, my magic was finally and truly awakening, growing into what it was always meant to be.

Hardly daring to breathe, I allowed the oak tree's wooden pulse and the one of my own heart slowly come into synchronization.

"You are becoming ," a proud voice told me.

I think I gasped, and Ossian's disembodied voice said quickly, "Don't be afraid, Meadow. Keep trying."

He hadn't heard. That voice had been just for me.

Forgetting the voice, forgetting him, I focused on those two hearts beating as one.

I felt joy, true joy, for the first time in my life.

And hope.

Grandmother may have stunted me, may have cursed me, but true daughter of Violet or no, I was obeying— reveling —in the one rule that governed Nature: growth.

I had its rhythm now, knew this oak tree's heart as well as I knew every stripe on Sawyer's fur. By the Green Mother, this was so much easier than wiggling my toes in time to the flexing of the roots. This was something I could truly feel, not just anticipate, even though it had taken me more time to achieve.

Slowly, though I was not afraid of losing my connection to the oak tree's heart, I reached for the white aster. Then, unlike any time before, the plant surrendered its life energy. I wasn't siphoning in the traditional sense. Like had called to like, and the aster was answering my need for green magic. It funneled straight through me, back into the heart of the oak tree, and the glow of its bark brightened. A pulse of power rippled up its trunk into the trapped canopy, and a glittering white mist filled the air as a section of chain mail simply vanished.

Dumbfounded, I watched the mist dissipate. One single plant had never done that before. It was incredible. I felt incredible.

Triumph radiated from Ossian's presence, and he urged, "Again!"

Without opening my physical eyes, I moved on to the next plant, an entire cluster of variegated pansies. Their petals were thinner than Sawyer's crepe-like ears, though just as fleshy, just as vibrant with life. It all went to my oak tree, surrendered as before, and another section of Grandmother's curse vanished.

The fae king's cheers sounded far away as I communed with the oak tree, reveling in its wooden pulse that thrummed down into my bones. This was our victory. We were taking back our freedom.

"Try more than one at the same time," Ossian urged.

In a slow arc, my physical hand swept over not two or three, but over the entire crescent of remaining pots. Every mum, cock's comb, sedum, pansy, and flame-colored celosia donated their green life energy, the power thundering through my body and into the oak tree's heart.

The bottom-most leaves shivered in their newfound freedom, showing off their luscious green tops and golden undersides.

"That's," Ossian began. "That's… Why is it—"

His presence vanished, and while I wanted to linger and bond more with my tree, Ossian's aura had been red with anger when he'd left. Pressing my forehead against the trunk, I muttered, "The male's hundreds of years old and still has the temper tantrums of a child." I sighed. "See you later, friend."

When I blinked, returning to the physical world, I found Ossian upright, pacing, and glaring down at the terra-cotta planters, each now crowned with shriveled brown stalks. For a moment, I was afraid he'd truly examine them and discover my deception, that I hadn't drained them entirely.

"Ossian?" I ventured, my voice barely loud enough to be heard above his pounding footfalls.

"Why is more of your magic not freed?" he demanded. "I told that honey badger to bring in the exact kind and number of plants as last time. You freed more of the curse then without even being bonded to the oak tree. What. Happened? "

Last time I ran away from the castle to a farmhouse that's not on any map and harnessed the magic of two hearth embers. "U-uh, I…"

He stopped pacing, standing directly in front of me, barely restrained anger roiling off him like heat from scorched pavement. "Well?"

"Well, I had the ember last time—"

The fae king cut his hand through the air. "The ember had no power other than what it gave you to jumpstart your magic's freedom. There has to be another reason."

I wasn't going to say one word about the farmhouse, about Flora and Daphne's involvement, and certainly nothing about Sawyer being able to donate me a trickle of magic here and there as necessary. "I don't know!" I cried, lurching to my feet. "Maybe it's the plants? I mean, they're all the same species as before—mums, asters, and the like—but maybe not the same colors? I had purple aster and orange mums before and, thistle thorns, Ossian, it's December! How vivacious can they be?"

His hands clenched, the veins and tendons in his forearms surging upwards in sharp relief. The fae king fought for a measure of calm, remembering his promise to me, and said stiffly, "If you would be patient a moment, I will see about acquiring more flowers."

"I'd like to come inside for a minute. Get a drink?"

"As you will," he nearly snapped, sucking in another sharp breath before turning on his heel and, without waiting for me, stormed out of the courtyard.

"I suppose that's progress," I muttered, closing the door behind me and hurrying for the atrium where I hoped to find not only the drink I actually wanted, but my friends. It would be better if I sent Flora out for more plants instead of Ossian.

As it just so happened, Alec strode into the atrium the same moment I did, a ham the size of his thigh clutched in his one fist. It was an effort to swallow my revulsion, but I managed to greet him in a clear voice.

He diverted from turning down the passageway that led to the great hall, his icy blue eyes equally curious and indignant at my audacity to call out to him.

"Only Cernunnos commands me, not you," he practically spat at me. "You do not tell me to ‘stop a moment' or any—"

"Oh shut up, Alec." I thrust my left hand in front of his face. "You see this? It's impossible to miss, what with the ruby being the size of a quail egg. This is an engagement ring, Alec, which means I'm to be your future queen. So you'll listen to me, apparently whether I ask you politely or not."

The man fumed, the bluish-green markings on his skin seeming to vibrate with his anger.

"I need you to take Flora back to her plant nursery with all due haste to get me more plants. Anything that will fit in that wagon," I added, thinking back on Ossian's ire. "Jam packed, actually."

Alec snorted. "Are you serious? I'm a Brother of the—"

"Do it, Alec. Right. Now. Or maybe I'll convince your dear Cernunnos that maybe you aren't fit to rule in his stead like he thinks you are."

He visibly started, quickly mastering himself. "Don't mess with me, Meadow. Did Cernunnos really say—"

"Prove to me you can follow my simple requests," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, "as well as take care of your future subjects, and I won't say a word against you when the time comes."

Alex wet his lips, his icy blue eyes darting over my face looking for any sign that I was lying. "Fine, milady . It shall be done at once, after I feed the bear. We'll be back within the hour."

"Thank you."

He grunted, but at least he didn't roll his eyes. The man broke off into a sprint, and I picked up an abandoned water glass on the table, feeling rather pleased with myself. Maybe I was suited to being a queen. That thought wavered at the sound of the grizzly bear's roar echoing down into the atrium.

I found myself reaching for Sawyer through the hole in the foraging bag, and stopped.

Ruling in the Court of Beasts would be impossible if I couldn't master one thing: my fear of the bear. There were far more dangerous things than bears in Elfame, Ossian had told me, and I wasn't going to be a weak and trembling queen. And I couldn't always rely on my cat.

I set the water glass down and popped the cork off the barrel Charlie had delivered. Apple brandy. It burned going down even while it was sweet on the tongue, but it warmed up my insides and strengthened my resolve.

With the barrel in hand, I headed off to the great hall to test my mettle against our greatest enemy.