Chapter 52

Naomi was going stir crazy. All she could do was pace, and her feet were beginning to hurt due to all the pacing. She flung herself into a chair and put her head in her hands. Where was Tavik? Where were Agatha, Yula, and Mr. Squibbles for that matter? It was like she’d been forgotten. This was a fine homecoming, she thought. She’d left her world to come here. She’d given up her nice normal job, nice comfy apartment, and nice loving family for imprisonment, abandonment, and insanity induced boredom. Nothing about her situation was nice. It was as far from nice as she could think without physical pain coming into the picture. See, a silver lining, she told herself.

“You don’t look very happy.” Naomi leapt from her chair. She dropped from the chair and scrambled on hands and knees to Mr. Squibbles. The mouse backed up as if to run back under the bed. She stopped herself from lunging at him but just barely.

“Where have you been? Where is everyone? What's going on?”

“Things have grown worse since Agatha and I were in the castle. Tavik has fallen severely ill. He’s confined to his bed. Agatha can’t get to see him.”

Naomi grew cold at the news. “How sick is he? What’s happened?”

Mr. Squibbles shook his head. “Errilol may be the cause. We can’t be sure. The lummoxes have gotten it into their heads that maybe Agatha caused the illness. They found her examining Tavik last night and seized her. She’s being held in the dungeon.” So the castle did have a dungeon, she thought. She hoped it wasn’t as awful as she’d imagined.

“They don’t know she’s his mother.”

“And they won’t believe it if they were told now.”

“What about Yula?” Naomi asked.

He shook his head again. “I can’t find her. I don’t think she’s in the castle. She could be visiting one of her sons.”

Naomi went to the window to look out. “What can we do?”

“Don’t worry, Naomi. Agatha and I will think of something.”

A thought struck her. “What about the unicorn horn? I could teleport out of here. Maybe to Tavik!” She went to get the horn out of her cloak.

“No, it’s too dangerous.” She held the horn in her hands, not ready to be dissuaded.

“We don’t have any other options. I’m locked in my room with guards at the door, Agatha’s in the dungeon, and Yula’s MIA. What else can we do?”

“Just hold off on the unicorn horn for a little bit. Let me look for Yula again. You were the one who warned that the horn might drop you into a place that would kill you just by appearing there.”

“Yeah, but I know where Tavik’s room is. I know what it looks like. I should be able to teleport directly there.”

“Yes, but Tavik is never alone. Mrs. Boon has healers from the temple of Rhyslim with him all day, and guards are stationed at his door day and night. You wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

“There has to be something,” she insisted.

“Give Agatha and me some time. We’re sure to come up with something.” Naomi tucked the unicorn horn away reluctantly. She hated sitting on her hands, but Mr. Squibbles was right. She couldn’t do anything right now. “I’m going back to Agatha. I’ll come back when we have a plan. Don’t worry yourself too much, Naomi. We’ll get through this.” She nodded, and the mouse disappeared back underneath the bed. She turned back to the window and watched the people bustle about below.

It was lunchtime before Naomi finally got a human visitor, though she would’ve preferred Umbreks to Mrs. Boon. The housekeeper marched in with a tray of food. She didn’t nod her head or give any greeting to Naomi. Naomi was not going to be ignored. When Mrs. Boon set down the tray and turned to leave, Naomi was standing at the door, ready to fight her for some answers.

“How long do you think you’re going to keep me here?”

Mrs. Boon folded her hands across her stomach and answered in a placid voice, “When Lord Tavik is well again, we’ll let him decide what to do with you.”

“Who’s making the decisions while he’s ill?”

“No one is making any decisions right now. Lord Tavik will recover soon.”

“You think Agatha put a spell on him.”

Her eyes slanted to her. “And what do you know about the witch? Are you in league with her?”

Naomi knew she should keep her mouth shut, but being locked in her room all day was wearing her down. “Agatha wants to help Tavik. She wouldn’t dream of hurting him.” Though drugging and kidnapping him were another matter, she reminded herself.

“Did you know we thought you were the witch when she appeared at the castle after your disappearance? It just seemed a little too pat. You disappear and a few days later this witch shows up.”

“Well, since Agatha is in the dungeon, and I’m locked in here, that little theory doesn’t hold water any more, does it?”

“Maybe you’re the witch’s daughter. I can see a slight resemblance.”

Naomi smirked at how wrong and close he had it. “She’s not my mother.”

“Maybe you’re just another witch, and you two are working together to bring down Tavik. I know you’re not Lady Alyssa. Lord Tavik didn’t even call you by that name.”

“You’re right. I’m not Lady Alyssa, but I’m not a witch either. I promise. Tavik will tell you the same thing.”

“Too bad our lord isn’t able to vouch for you.”

“Why? How bad is he? I want to see him.”

“Out of the question. You won’t be allowed near Lord Tavik until he is well, and even after that, I doubt he’ll want to see you.”

“This is all one big mistake. Tavik will be happy to see me, I swear. Maybe if he sees me now, it’ll help him get better.”

Mrs. Boon shook his head. “No, you used magic to weaken Tavik and flee him. You only came back now to seize control of his land. It won’t work.”

“No, that isn’t true. I care for Tavik. I’m sorry that I went away for so long, but Tavik and I thought it was for the best. I went home. I thought that was where I should be, but I realized that Tavik’s my home now. I couldn’t abandon him.”

“But you did!” Mrs. Boon shouted.

Naomi drew back at the vehemence in the housekeeper’s voice. “He thought it was for the best too.”

Mrs. Boon strode to the door and rapped on it. It was opened from the other side. She turned to Naomi before stepping out. “Whatever our lord decides to do with you, I hope it is fitting for the pain and anguish you caused him. Because gods help us, he cared for you.” With that last statement, she swept out of the room. Naomi stared at the closed door and felt hollow.

Naomi couldn’t stand being in her room. The four walls felt like they were closing in on her. The only way she could allow herself to escape was through sleep. She didn’t wake till early evening. She felt light headed. No one had come yet with dinner. Naomi wondered if anyone would. She looked at the untouched food Mrs. Boon had left her. She thought she was too depressed to eat, but after the first bite, she couldn’t stop. The plate was clean by the time she finished.

“Leave any for me?”

She whirled around to look at the mouse. “What’s the plan?” Mr. Squibbles didn’t reply. Naomi’s jaw dropped. “There’s no plan?”

“Being shackled and kept in a very dark cell is hindering Agatha’s witchy genius. Don’t worry, she’ll think of something.” Naomi felt her stomach twist uncomfortably at the image of Agatha’s situation.

“Have you learned anything new?” she asked.

“Nothing encouraging. What about you?”

She shook her head. “Mrs. Boon brought me my lunch. They think Agatha and I worked together to make Tavik sick and trying to seize control, but they’re going to wait until Tavik is better to decide what to do with me.”

“Or until he dies. I went to his bedchamber. He’s very sick, Naomi. He’s feverish and delusional. The priests don’t know what to do to help him.”
The news was bleak. A plan was coalescing in her brain. “Have you or Agatha come up with any ideas to get her free?”

“I’m going to get her a few things tonight that she can use for a spell. She should be able to free herself, but we don’t know if we’ll be able to do much more than that.”

“Do it. Don’t worry about me. My situation isn’t that bad.”

“But what if--” he began.

She cut him off. “I can’t stand the idea of Agatha sitting in a dungeon. Go get her what she needs. I’ll be fine.” He nodded and left. Naomi was going to do what she could as well.

She waited to make sure Mr. Squibbles was good and gone. She didn’t want anyone to talk sense to her. She got the unicorn horn out of its hiding place. She stared at the tip and fixed the image of Tavik’s bedroom in her mind. She knew exactly where it was and what it looked like. Once she was sure of her concentration, she stabbed the horn to her finger. She was killing her fingertips with all the teleporting, but she didn’t worry about it. She felt the pull that wasn’t a pull. She opened her eyes, not realizing she’d closed them. Maybe it was like sneezing. She just had to close her eyes to do it.

She looked around, and felt relief cascade over her. It had worked. She’d teleported into Tavik’s room. Not some fiery hell, not halfway into a wall, or worse into Mrs. Boon’s chamber. Her head swiveled to the bed. There was someone in it. She didn’t recognize him at first. The helm threw her off. In her mind, she’d come to picture Tavik without it. Agatha had told her that he’d put it back on when he’d returned to the castle. It made sense, and it didn’t, like so much in this world. He worshiped an insane god and hid it from the world by wearing a terrifying mask because his religious beliefs would frighten the townsfolk more. But he didn’t worship Errilol anymore. He’d broken from him, and she was here to help him.

She went to the side of the bed. One of his arms lay above the covers with his hand loosely curled. She picked up his hand. It was heavy and warm in her grasp. She gave it a tender squeeze. He didn’t stir. She couldn’t tell anything with the helm covering his face. She wondered vaguely how the priests examined him wearing it. It wasn’t a problem for her. She let go his hand and reached up to pull off the helm. She had it halfway off when he stirred. His hand clamped onto her arm. His grip was like a vice.

“Let me take this off, Tavik,” she said in a hushed voice. She didn’t want to alert the guards that she was there. His head rolled toward her on the bed. The eye holes were just black holes to her. She tried to shake his hand off. His grip tightened. “I want to see your face,” she told him.

He didn’t release her arm. She felt coldness creeping up her fingers into her hand due to his bruising hold on her arm. She put the horn down to reach with her other hand. He saw the other hand approaching and jerked the arm he held so that she fell across him.

“Who are you?” His voice was ragged. It held mistrust and rage.

“It’s me, Tavik. I came back.”

He twisted the flesh under his grasp. She gritted her teeth at the burning flare that rose. “No,” he whispered.

Naomi nodded her head to disagree. She put her own hand on that arm and tried to tug free of his grasp. “Let me see your face, Tavik. Is it Errilol that’s making you sick?”

At the mention of the god, he dropped her arm. “Fever dream,” he murmured. He turned his head away to not look at her. She grabbed his now lax hand.

“No, I’m real. I’m really here. I’m touching you. Can a hallucination do that?” He sighed and turned himself onto his side facing away from her. She wondered savagely what the priests had been doing for him. They couldn’t have done freaking much if they’d left the helm on him. They couldn’t have examined him, given him medicine, or anything. Had they shut him away in his room hoping he’d get better on his own? She pulled on his shoulder to make him roll onto his back, but even sick, he was still very strong and big, and she couldn’t manage it.

She ran around the bed to the other side to make him look at her. “Mr. Squibbles fetched me. We used the horn that was broken. We repaired it so we could come back. Tavik, it’s really me.” She tried to keep her voice down, but her desperation was increasing the volume little by little.

If his eyes were open, they stared right through her. He didn’t think she was real. He was too sick to tell fantasy from reality. She’d fix that quick enough. She moved back to the other side of the bed and picked up the horn. She stared at his huddled back. There was a bit of skin showing at the neck of his shirt. She touched the horn to the patch of exposed skin. The horn glowed in her grasp. It felt warm, and the light was gentle, but there was like a sensor in her head that showed how healed he was, and the dial hadn’t moved any yet. The horn continued to grow brighter. The unicorn had fixed her broken arm with only a brief touch, but it wasn’t doing anything for Tavik.

The horn began to feel very hot in her hand. Tavik didn’t appear to feel a thing. She felt a sob rise in her throat. Why wasn’t this working? She had to switch hands with the horn because it was beginning to burn. The light kept growing brighter. The guards were going to notice. She smelled the sickening familiar scent of burning flesh. It was her own.

“Get better. You have to get better.” Tears rolled down her face. He didn’t stir.

The door crashed open. The bright light had finally roused the guards. They had swords drawn. “Stop witch!”

She stayed rooted to her spot holding the burning horn. The guards took action and rushed her. They grabbed her and hauled her away. The unicorn horn light flared and went out. Naomi tried to struggle out of the guards’ grip to get back to Tavik, but she was weak with pain. She tried to plead with them.

“Let me go. I have to help him.”

“And how are you helping him? To an early grave?”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s not me who’s hurting him.”

“Who is then?”

As if in answer, deep laughter thudded across the room to them. Everyone froze. The laugh could not have come from a human throat. The dimly burning fire whooshed to monstrous life. Its color changed from orange to green, and a face appeared within the flames. “He will always be mine, unicorn mistress.”

Continue to Chapter 53.