Lina: Twisted Fairy Tales Book Two

21: A Crisis Of Faith

I was pacing the halls of the castle, nearly chewing my own nails to the quick.

No word had reached me on the Fae King’s health, and it was approaching dark. The Healer had more or less ordered me out after the third time lightning struck his hut and his assistants were forced to put the fire out on the straw-topped roof. How was it my fault he was trying to encourage a more natural feel to his area? The insides were wooden and strong enough. He didn’t need to add moss and straw to the roof to make it feel more ‘home-like’. Not that I’d admit that the wood would have survived either. He had a stone-enclosed area for storing temperature-sensitive herbs, poultices and such. You’d think he’d do the same for the rest. I made another sharp turn and stomped down the hall.

My worry stemmed only in part from the Fae King’s health. The other, more dangerous parts were his words to me. What was he even doing in this Realm? What had happened in his Kingdom after we left? And what was this sudden and strange sense of connection I abruptly felt with him? I chewed my nail more furiously.

I had heard all the stories. I had listened to Papa as he talked about Mama saving him. About how it tied their lives together. At the time, I had thought the story beautiful, magical even. Romantic, despite the fact that I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Now.. I grimaced.

I snarled as I executed another turn and nearly ran face-first into someone. Someone who gasped and then snapped my name waspishly in that way.

“Oh, Mama. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.” I said tiredly. She placed her hands on her hips, which forced her stomach to protrude even more.

“Oh? So your behavior would have been justified had I been someone else?” She spat. I winced.

“I didn’t mean..” I tried to protest, but she cut me off.

“No? Then what did you mean by that?” My mother retorted, and I rubbed my brow.

“I apologize,” I sighed. “I’m just.. Lost.. and confused..” I saw her open her mouth, most likely to make a quip about being lost in my own head or home, having not yet forgiven me the trespass of snarling at her. But then her expression softened. She placed on hand atop her stomach and extended the other to me.

“I know.” She replied gently. “That’s why I sought you out. Come.” She opened and closed her hand until I relented and placed my own within hers, and then she pulled me to her side, tucking my arm around her waist as she did the same, looping her arm around my own waist. Then she led me out towards the gardens my grandmother tended to at a slow stroll.

“You know.. Your father was the first person I healed.” She told me as we meandered down the stone path between roses. The prickly plants reminded me of my mood. I nodded. I had heard the story. “But he wasn’t the only one.” She continued after a beat or two, and I paused, trying to search my memory for those stories.

By and large over the years, I had heard so many things, that unless it came directly from my parents' own mouths, I rarely listened. So many things had been exaggerated, or just simply made up.

“We hardly ever mentioned it to you children.” My mother explained softly, examining my expression. “The temptation.. We were afraid that you might not use it wisely, given the opportunity. That you might not understand until you were older.” She bit her lower lip and looked down. My mother seemed almost.. ashamed..?

“Mama?” My eyes had widened, but she shook her head and tugged me forward again.

“I don’t know if this is something you will inherit. Any of you. Or if you do, how it may manifest for you..” Mama was watching the ground in front of our feet carefully now. “But I think, just in case.. It’s time you know..” And then she explained all of it. How my father’s fate had been tied to hers through her offering to share her life with him to save him. In essence, she shared her own ‘heart’ with him in some strange way that baffled me and somehow allowed them both to keep living. A deal with the Gods, she said. All allowed because she had the blood of the very same Gods running through her veins, and now my own, and my siblings.

Then she went on to explain how she learned that if she shared that blood, sometimes she could heal people. Sometimes even bring them back from the brink of death. But at a cost. They also became tied to her. She had to be careful around them because they would do exactly as instructed. To the letter. They more or less became her thralls. Her slaves. Bound to her by blood, fated to serve her for the privilege of having her save them. Dedicated to her in an almost fanatical way. With one noticeable exception that resented his ties to her, until she made it his life’s purpose to do as he’d already chosen. To devote himself to an orphaned child.

Mama saw the whole thing as a curse.

She didn’t exactly elaborate on everything that happened to make her feel that way, but it was obvious it had left a deep impact. She told me the power to heal was one reason Ives resented her, for not using it on Thema. And that it had caused some unnecessary sacrifices and strife she wished she could have avoided among her relationships with her people.. And with father. I twitched at that, unaware that they had ever truly had a problem between them. I mean sure, they were loud, arguing and making up almost as embarrassingly loudly. It sent me running more than once. Papa called it ‘passionate’ with a grin. It always seemed he liked Mama’s fire. My attention was jerked back as my mother spoke again.

“Imagine having someone completely at your whim without realizing it, and then saying the wrong thing in a moment of anger or joviality. So many things can go wrong.” She mourned. It struck me then, the possibilities she could mean by that, and I was horrified. How easy it would be to slip and have someone you loved dearly enough to save that you risked them being so twisted up in your clutches they didn’t know which way to look, only to get into an argument and say something you didn’t mean in the moment.. The possibilities were terrifying.

“The arguments you’ve had with Papa..” I paled, but Mama laughed softly.

“We discovered he has a certain amount of pull of his own. Keeps him safe from the majority of my influence.” She rubbed her stomach, laughing again. I was silent, sober. She looked at me keenly. “Of course, that makes you doubly dangerous.” She sighed. “Because that pull from your Shifter heritage might also exist for you too.” We walked in silence for several long moments, while I brooded over what she had told me.

“I didn’t use my blood to heal him.” I knew I didn’t have to elaborate for her to know I spoke of the Fae King. She rubbed my back.

“That’s why I told you it may not work the same, or at all. Your bond could be different, or may never come into existence. Just.. be careful.” She sighed as she took a seat on a huge, decorative rock that was smoothed to be a rather large sphere. She winked at me when I raised a brow. “Don’t tell your grandmother.” She whispered conspiratorially, and a laugh surprised me as it burst its way past my lips.