Kieran

The first week of spring is already drawing to an end.

I am a little hazy on the exact terminology behind Lady Selaena’s new enchantment. She did say that I’d turn mortal by the end of the first week of spring, but only now am I really wishing she would have at least clarified if I should be worried on a Sunday morning or maybe a couple of hours before.

Worry. I catch myself doing that sometimes – almost as if a part of me is afraid of parting with the existence I once considered burdensome and dreary. That’s the thing about something coming to an end, I reckon. You only feel the full effects of your entire life just moments away from death, if you haven’t been careful enough to catch the little moments before.

One upside of all this is that everyone might be able to escape the impending attack once my final transformation comes.

Unless the monster gets to them first. Lady Selaena’s warning had been quite clear. How long the beast will live before I wither away, however, is unclear.

Eli is uselessly trying to chase butterflies while I fret over whether he will catch an unpleasant vision instead when Bayorn comes marching into the gardens. His eyes are wide and he pants as if he’s been sprinting.

“They are coming.”

My back stiffens. “Right now?”

“It should take a crowd of that size less than a day’s journey. Astrid counted at least fifty of them preparing to leave through Ainsfrel’s route to Mirkwood when she scouted the town just now.”

“She what?

He holds both hands in the air in defence. “I did not send her. She went on her own accord.”

A string of curses leaves my mouth. Eli’s mouth pops open at the scandal in my language. To his credit, he makes no snarky remark. We storm through the castle doors, my mind spinning. All the gears start to shift in my brain as the various probabilities of where they will attack from, what formation a mixed crowd of experienced soldiers and green townsfolk would take, and how likely it would be for all of us to survive this play out like movie scenes put in fast forward.

We were supposed to have one more day. One more day to set everything in motion.

“No matter,” I rumble to Bayorn, more for my own benefit. “Unprecedented events always happen in every war. We are more than prepared for a -”

I do a double-take once I notice he is not even flanking me. He lags behind by a few feet, jaw set as he glares at something across the floor. My eyes trace his gaze.

“Lady Selaena.”

My aggravation causes her blood-red lips to curve in amusement. “We’re a little busy.”

“I can see that,” she talks slowly, as if she has all the time in the world to watch us burn. She probably does.

Eli’s tiny fingers clutch at the fabric of my trousers when she stalks towards us, her emerald eyes gleaming with predatory focus. I catch his hand and instruct him to call for the others. For once, he is glad to obey.

“Why are you here?” I demand.

“You know why I’m here. The week is almost up. Your time is nigh.”

Bayorn’s face is an emotionless mask, but his eyes darken. I try to copy his example and fold my arms. “So you’ve come to gloat, then.”

Her abrupt laughter is harsh against my ears. It almost stings. She stretches her arms out, revealing broad sleeves draped loosely over her shoulders and the slender figure I once vowed to set aflame. A part of me wonders if that pearl-white dress conceals a body full of charred flesh and scars.

“Honey, I’m your welcoming party.”

The sound of shoes slapping against the floor distracts us. Isabelle is the first to approach, her eyes focused only on Bayorn and me.

“When are they…” she trails off once she catches sight of Lady Selaena. Her jaw hangs open for a few seconds. She looks to me for some form of unspoken explanation before she remembers to straighten up and find her words again.

“You must be the witch.”

Fire flickers across Lady Selaena’s eyes. “And you must be the foolish one who chose to bear the burden of the curse.”

Astrid approaches and steps around Isabelle, subtly placing herself between the enchantress and the girl. She folds her arms. “Do you serve a purpose here, or are you going to just stand around and call out ominous warnings?”

“Perhaps I just prefer to watch the show from a good seat,” Selaena retorts with acid.

Astrid never flinches at the enchantress, not even when she should be afraid. I feel a swell of pride when she instead turns to face the rest of us. She folds her arms authoritatively.

“So they are arriving just a day earlier than we expect. That does not change much, does it?” she says.

Imogen has quietly slipped into the space between Bayorn and me, with Eli’s shoulders under her hands. Hope flickers in her eyes as they trail on the guard, who says, “The keyword here being ‘much’. We will have to work at twice the speed than initially planned – as it is, a day’s worth of preparations barely suffices. The time we have lost already cost us most of the traps we plan to set on the grounds. We may as well have lost our first line of defense.”

Silence ensues as the gravity of the situation starts to settle in the air. Our first line of defense is what we’ve been leaning heavily upon. Without it, we’ll definitely have to take up arms ourselves. All of us.

“We have an added advantage to make up for it,” Astrid muses. Tentatively, she casts a look over her shoulder. “We have magic.”

Lady Selaena’s eyes narrow when we turn our collective attention to her.

“Am I another one of the weapons in your arsenal, to be used whenever it conveniences you?”

Bayorn inhales sharply. “My lady, we may all perish if you do not.”

“And what is it to me?” she says coldly. “How brazen of you to assume I have a heart to feel a benevolent urge to further extend the lives you have long outlived.”

My own thoughts barely register what I’m doing before I cross the gap between us. Grabbing her hand, I pin it onto my own chest. Her nostrils flare at the same time a sharp sting spreads across my skin.

I hold on nonetheless.

“Do you feel that?” I grit my teeth and pull against her struggle to break free of my touch, as if her hand were in pain instead. “Do you feel it beating? That’s a heart, Selaena.”

She finally yanks free of my grip. She massages her wrist and casts a bitter look upon me. “So what?”

“So I am human. Despite everything I have become. And if any part of who you used to be still lives after all this time, then you are even more so. Remember – if anyone ever had faith in my ability to reign, it was because they trusted you would be the one to stand behind me. Remember who you used to be. Who you are deep down.”

Our eyes meet. A hundred years pass between us; every exchange we have ever had, from the very beginning until now – the end of me – plays out between us like phantom dreams.

Selaena angles her face away from mine.

Out of the corner of my eye, Imogen practically drags Eli towards Lady Selaena.

“At least take my boy,” she says, desperation stirring itself into panic in her expression. “Keep him safe with you until it is all over.”

Eli’s eyes widen. He tries to struggle and push her hands off him, but she catches him again and shoves him closer to the enchantress.

“Please!” her breath hitches. “What has he done against you?” Then she blinks, shaking her head as if to scramble for better words.

“My lady, he...he deserves at least this. From all of us. From you.”

It’s easy to tell Selaena has reached the height of her discomfort. Her eyes flicker towards Eli, who glares at the ground in fury with his fists trembling at his sides. Her chest rises and falls before she tilts her head up to the ceiling, as if she is praying for patience.

Then, she narrows her eyes at Imogen and folds her arms.

“If there is any running involved, I will be out of here in a breath. Do you understand?”