“I need to see her," Emrick roars in frustration as he attempts to raise himself up, face planting each time. If it was any other situation, I would have made a joke.
“Someone is going to die," Maddox declares, following Emrick’s lead and trying to stand.
“I’d say someone already did, otherwise we’d still be trapped,” I point out unhelpfully, earning me a glare.
An incessant squeaking draws our attention away from our complaining. I look around, until I finally spot a tiny white mouse scurrying our way. Well not so little anymore. Too many people like to sneak him treats, he’s doubled in size since arriving in Faerie.
“Is that Bella’s mouse?” Maddox asks, his voice full of shock. The others turn to see, but I know who he is. I stick my hand out for the mouse to come to me. He scurries past the others and settles into my outstretched palm. He rears up on two feet and squeaks mournfully at me. The sad sound unsettles me even more and the need to find Bella eats away at me.
“Are you trying to take us to Bella?” I ask, the mouse gives one loud squeak and runs back to the ground.
“Really? We’re talking to a mouse now? He’s not a fucking dog," Emrick grumbles. I choose to ignore him. He has every right to be a grumpy mess right now. Plus, I’m not looking for a punch to my jaw to be his first move after this.
The tingling starts to recede and I try my best to push away the exhaustion sweeping over me, I can sleep later. I look at the others to see if anyone is standing yet. So far Emrick is up on all fours, but that is the most progress any of us have made. Andras is already passed out and I wish I could join him but that sad squeak was enough to keep me awake and alert. She needs us.
“It has to have been weeks," Maddox whispers, his voice filled with concern. We know that Bella didn’t just waltz in and succeed, but it was impossible to keep count how long it had actually been. And the one person here that may have succeeded in keeping track was passed out.
“She’s alive," I say in a firm voice. “I would have felt it if she died, we’re bonded.”
After complaining to each other and making attempt after attempt to stand, our muscles are finally strong enough to support us. We take a few tentative steps, still shaking and tingling, but upright.
Andras is still asleep and won’t wake no matter how hard we try. He’s fairly small for a fae though, so the spell may have taken more of a toll on him. But now that he’s not spelled, leaving him behind would be a death sentence in the harsh snow of Winter.
The three of us start the slow and awkward trek to the castle. Emrick and Maddox support Andras’ body between them. I ignore yet another moment to crack a joke, as we hobble like drunkards down the path. If it wasn’t for the fact that we’re walking shoulder to shoulder, I doubt we could have made it inside without going down again.
“Which way?” Emrick asks, pausing for a moment to shake out his limbs. When he pulls away, I realize I can stand unassisted, a weightlifting off of my shoulders. We spent far too lon
g being immobile to deal with the residual effects of the curse.
“I vote we follow this little fellow." I point at the mouse who is walking ahead, looking back at us and squeaking impatiently every few feet. He’s anxious to get us to her and I’m not willing to turn down a tour guide, no matter how tiny. Maybe it’s the Spring magic in me that gives me a connection to animals, but I trust the tiny rodent to lead us to his master. He loves her fiercely and I have a feeling he stuck with her during this madness.
“I thought you were joking," Maddox says as he gives me an assessing look, trying to tell if I’m serious.
I shake my head and grin. “If Bella thinks he’s smart enough to understand her words, that’s enough for me," I explain. They grumble, but follow without much of a protest. They trust me enough to let this happen and know I’d never do anything to keep us from our queen. Especially not after all this time.
We silently follow Dormouse into the compound and through the hallways. It isn’t easy and it isn’t pretty, but we do it surprisingly fast for our condition. There was only one mishap with Andras almost falling to the floor, but Emrick seems to have found his reflexes and caught him in time.
The sound of unfamiliar voices have us walking even faster, the last of the sluggish feeling finally fading. It sounds like the roar of an angry crowd, though that hardly makes sense. Can there really be this many survivors? How?
We enter a large ballroom and what is awaiting us is the picture of chaos. There are fae men, women, and children scattered around. Many seem too weak to move or stand, a feeling we knew far too well.
“Bella!” Emrick roars and I look in the direction he’s attempting to run. The entire crowd grows silent as we make our way over. She is passed out on the floor between Gerwyn and Jacob. They lay Andras down next to Jacob, so we can check on our queen.
Bella looks awful. Not in the same way we all do, we’re merely weak from being in a frozen state for so long. It maintained our bodies and tortured our minds. But from looking at her, it appears that she’s been starved, beaten, and broken in our absence.
What happened here?
Fury blossoms inside of me as I take in her small shape and sunken face. She’s covered head to toe in grime and bruising. By some miracle, her breathing is steady.
The worst part has to be her injuries. It looks like she’s been beaten. Her skin is unrecognizable, and her leg and shoulder are bent at odd angles.
Emrick is the only one of us with any healing abilities, and they are generally for combat. He can’t heal her bruises, but he can at least mend any broken bones. He kneels next to her and hovers his hands over her body before closing his eyes. He slowly runs his hands up and down her body, a faint white light emanating from them as he moves. I know it’s taking a lot out of him, the muscles in his neck look strained and sweat is forming on his brow. Thankfully her shoulder and leg are aligned again by the time he stops.
“What the fuck is going on?” Maddox doesn’t direct his question to us, but the crowd is too stunned, or too intimidated, to answer him.
“Look!” I yell as I spot the crumpled form of the King of Winter. He’s lying still on the floor with a small pool of blood under him. His body is also broken, contorted at an odd angle.
How the hell did he survive this long?