The wizard in purple robes came into view, Merle perched on his shoulder. The raven croaked a hello at me, bobbing his head in greeting. “If Your Highness had a heart, then people would actually love You. And You would be capable of love, which You clearly are not.”
“Tertulyn could never have betrayed Your Highness, in that case.”
“Con couldn’t have sacrificed a woman he truly loved simply to win a battle.”
“It was all a lie.”
“Do You see now?”
“I have a heart!” I protested, forcing the words past my numb lips. “I do! I’m not dead. That isn’t Me.”
The oak tree in the mirror flailed, wilted orchids falling like rain to shower onto the swirling green water that rose around the base of the trunk. The tree began to lean to one side, the orchids a sodden mass of dying petals, pale rose and violet, sinking into the current that swirled in a huge whirlpool of ravening hunger.
“No, please—that isn’t Me.” The dark maw of the starving sea drowned my words. “That isn’t Me…”
“Lia.” The whirlpool called my name, night-dark voice hoarse as the growl of a wolf. “Lia. Come to me.”
“I won’t.” I pushed at it. “I won’t go!”
“Lia!” The sea lashed waves of black, unyielding, demanding. “You come back to me right now. Wake up.”
“No no no no…”
“Do it, Lia. I’m not giving up on you.”
A sharp pain made me gasp. Flesh and blood. I had a body, a living, flesh-and-blood one. Furious golden eyes pierced me, Con’s pitted face contorted with blazing anger. I lifted a hand to my stinging cheek, the twig fingers tapping a light pattern against my skin. Not flesh, not entirely. “You slapped me.” I meant to sound imperious, indignant, but it came out a soft cry of distress.
Con gripped my shoulders, searching my face, then his fierce expression relaxed, and he pulled me into his arms, wrapping his strength around me. “I know. I’m sorry, Lia, please forgive me.” He buried his face into the crook of my neck and shoulder. “You were raving in your sleep. Then you stopped breathing and I couldn’t get you to wake up. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“The wizards had Me again.”
“No, Lia. No. It was only a dream. A nightmare.”
“They were … experimenting on Me.”
“No.” Con said it firmly, lifting his head and cupping my face in his hands. “They weren’t. They’ll never have you again. I promise you that. It was a dream, nothing more.”
A dream? Scraps of images came back. The hollow tree. The rain of dying orchids. My dreams had always been of the future, not the past. “Some promises you can’t keep, no matter how hard you try,” I whispered, the heart I didn’t have feeling like it might crack apart at the haunted look on his face.
“I failed you before, Lia,” he replied, voice creaking like old floorboards, “but I will keep this promise. Believe that, if nothing else.”
“Where is Ibolya? I distinctly recall commanding her to keep you out.”
“Yeah, she tried. No luck there. We’ll discuss that later. Right now I’m here and I’m not letting you die again, no matter how much you might think you want to.”
I gazed back at him, aghast. “I don’t want to die.” I might not want to die, but death was reaching for me. The orchid lay limp on my arm, like the sodden orchids falling from the dying oak tree.
“Good.” He let me go and went to the lantern on the bedside table, lighting it with the clicker there. I hissed at the sudden brightness and he glanced at me, assessing, then continued on, lighting all the lamps until the room blazed with light. He paused, surveying the table laden with food, all untouched. “Here’s an easy place to start. You need to eat, Lia.”
6
I fought the immediate revulsion at even the thought of food, barely managing not to gag. “I can’t.” Instead of snapping out imperiously, the denial came out with a hint of a whimper.
He eyed me, the stubborn wolf in his gaze. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
Dizziness swamped me—did I imagine the odor of fetid swamp water?—and I lay back against the pillows, weak as a wilted petal. Orchids can’t live on their own …
“Lia, answer me.” Con had started to fill a plate, clearly intending to force me to eat. He probably would, too, even if he had to hold my nose and cram food down my throat. How charming that would be.
“You don’t order Me, wolf,” I