I didn’t let myself glance down at her swollen belly as I made the threat, but guilt still pricked my heart like a needle. Why did it feel as though I were arguing with Collith instead of scaring a wererat witless?
If the healer found the phrasing of my warning strange, she didn’t dare express it. She simply bobbed her head and refocused on Laurie, putting her delicate hands on the wound over his heart just as I had. With that, she began her work.
There was nothing whimsical or ethereal about healing. Any Fallen creature who possessed the ability to magically repair people’s bodies seemed to share that single similarity—healing was painful, bloody, and loud. It also came at a cost, whether that was aging the bearer or draining their energy to dangerously low levels. It was why I would never be able to repay Zara for all she’d done.
After a few minutes, the healer’s body began to shake.
“You’ve given enough,” I said coolly, keeping any concern I felt out of my expression. Her breathing was ragged as she leaned back, taking her palms off Laurie. There were still holes in his shirt, the edges stained with blue, but the flesh beneath had knitted together and become smooth once more. When I saw that, breathing suddenly became easier, making me realize that I hadn’t been until that moment.
Laurie still hadn’t opened his eyes. I could feel everyone in the tunnel watching me. Ignoring them, I knelt in the muck and took my friend’s hand in both of mine. His skin was usually warm, and a jolt of fear went through me when I felt how cold it was now. “Time to come back,” I murmured, hoping my voice would reach him.
When Laurie didn’t stir, I swallowed a curse. We didn’t have time for him to regain consciousness naturally, not when we were surrounded by hostile Fallen in a dank tunnel, with even more Fallen searching for us aboveground. Without conferring with the others, I closed my eyes and gently eased into the Seelie Prince’s psyche again. I had no expectations that I would be able to penetrate it—Laurie’s mind was a fortress, just as Collith’s usually was, which was why my abilities rarely worked on them—but apparently a near-death experience had lowered his guard.
I meant to communicate with him, as I had when we’d been on that imaginary mountaintop. I began to say his name, mind to mind. Then memory glimmered, like a light at the corner of my eye, and I realized that Laurie was inside it. He must’ve retreated there while the healer repaired his broken body.
What sort of memory comforted a creature like Laurelis Dondarte in his darkest moments?
My curiosity was too strong. Knowing time was not on our side, I slipped into Laurie’s past and told myself I would only stay for a few seconds. Long enough to take a look around and urge him back to consciousness.
The moment I entered the memory, I saw everything through its owner’s eyes. Laurie’s elegant hand grasped a familiar doorknob, and with a sense of anticipation, he twisted it. The door opened to reveal his rooms at the palace.
He immediately turned to the left, heading for the room with the piano and the chairs. Collith raised his head, a welcoming smile already spreading across his face. It was the version of him I’d seen in that picture, unscarred and alight with hope. Innocence. I darted a glance toward the wall, where I’d seen it hanging before, but of course it wasn’t there yet. I refocused on Collith, and part of me almost wished I could warn him of all the terrible things that were coming.
The other part of me was glad for the suffering he’d soon endure.
“I have a gift for you,” Laurie said by way of greeting. He kept his voice pitched low to avoid waking Naevys, who slept in one of the other rooms. His arm was tucked behind him as he crossed the room, his footsteps making hollow sounds against the tiled floor. In spite of my limited vantage point, I could see that Laurie wore the clothing of a faerie, down to his knee-high boots. The buttons on his gold brocade vest gleamed in sunlight.
Collith sighed and set his book down on a side table. That stubborn lock of hair fell into his eye, and the sight of it made my heart ache. “A gift?” he repeated. “You’ve welcomed us into your home, Laurelis. I know the toll it must take on your power to keep our faces hidden while we’re outside these rooms. That’s gift enough.”
“True,” Laurie acknowledged, bringing his arm into the open. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “So if you’d like some ideas on how to express your gratitude, I have a few.”
Collith was on the verge of responding when his gaze dropped to the object the Seelie King held. Laurie did the same, and I recognized it instantly. The gilt edges, the long handle. It was the same mirror Collith had left on my doorstep, months ago, when we were still strangers and he’d been orchestrating my path to the throne.
Tilting his head, Collith grasped the handle and held it up. “It’s beautiful, but why would—”
His words cut short, and Laurie waited patiently. After a moment, Collith lowered the mirror to reveal the wide grin he wore. The sight was so surprising I couldn’t help but stare; I’d never seen him smile like that, not once in all the time I’d known him. The feeling that curled around my heart was undefinable, but I knew it was something between jealousy and sorrow. Jealousy that I hadn’t inspired such a smile, and sorrow for how far he had fallen from this boy in front of me.
“…another one of your tricks, Laurelis?” Collith was asking. With effort, I managed to refocus on the scene unfolding before me. Collith glanced at the mirror again and added, “Why does this gift only show me your face?”
At this, Laurie gave him a look that could only be described as tender. I was only confused for a second or two, and then I remembered what Laurie once told me about that mirror.
It was a witch’s spell. She made it so the glass showed you whoever you loved most.
In the next moment, I finally understood why I could see this memory—there was the faintest tang of fear in the air. Like me, Laurie was afraid of vulnerability. He worried about the weakness it would bring and the price he would pay. Because he’d learned that everything came with a price. Especially love.
“Are you all right?” Collith asked.
Laurie looked back at him, which meant I looked back at him, too. The prince we both loved. As Laurie stared in those hazel eyes, now bright with concern, he recognized that it was too late. He’d fallen in love with this faerie, and nothing short of a spell could undo it. And perhaps not even that.
You and me both, I thought with a pang.
I’d barely finished forming the words in my mind when I felt Laurie’s consciousness, his presence. The air was thick with awareness—he’d heard me. My pulse quickened at the realization.
Before I could attempt to reach him again, I was thrown out of Laurie’s head. It happened so quickly, so efficiently that it didn’t cause me any pain, and in an instant we were back in the sewers. I adjusted just as fast as the Rat King had. I dropped to my knees beside Laurie’s prone form, ignoring the water already seeping through the fabric of my gown. I also disregarded the audience surrounding us on every side, watching with their glowing eyes.
“Laurie?” I said urgently, resting my hand on his newly-healed chest. “Laurie, if you’re awake, please say something.”
A grimace crossed his face. Without opening his eyes Laurie said, “Don’t you know your fairy tales, woman? You’re supposed to wake the prince with a kiss.”